So far it’s been mostly nausea,
fatigue, headache, and loss of appetite
(thank god!).

But there has also been a bit of intense irritability,
the kind that rips
you out of the small amount of sleep you managed

to slip into and trips
you into arms folded across your tight and pounding chest,
throat sore from arguing with your very best friend,

eyes wet and wondering what’s left
before the end. It’s basically what you’d expect
when you’re expecting, and we were.

There’s also been some inability to fall asleep.
At least, not until every single sheep weighs in
on who’s to blame for what we couldn’t keep.

But weeping between the sheets because we never
heard their heartbeats helps with keeping my pregnant-
incompletes to myself.

And leaving those losses on the shelf
is so much better for everybody else because who hasn’t
been there before?

Plenty have lost
more, you don’t know
what’s in store, you’ll find

what you’re looking for, God
always opens another door.
(Or so the sheep say anyway).

And even though I quit drinking (mostly),
It still feels a little bit like sinking, like
I’m still blinking and blinking my eyes dry, and still thinking

that linking the pinking little line shrinking
every time I try to the child I chose to say goodbye
to, explains why the rest all have to die so soon.

But pride plays a funny part
every time I think I’ll start
taking medication to numb my heart.

I’ve picked up many prescriptions over the years, but
switching gears completely isn’t as easy as just freezing
my chest and trying my best to keep the lights on in a mind

so ready to close up shop.
Can unopened antidepressants be returned
as easily as unopened newborn-sized onesies?