The lady

Taking my blood asks me how I’m doing

I say good

We both know why I’m here

And we both know very well that I’m not

Good

My mouth forms the words in slow motion

Like a movie

Where I’m someone else acting

Acting like a person who is

Good

Instead of a person

Who has been to this lab at least 4 times

So they can make sure I’m not pregnant anymore

She tells me to

be well

As I walk out the door

And I know what she means

And somehow that small gesture , that tiny gesture where her voice is like a warm blanket

Is just what I need

To hold it together

Until I get to my car

And the tears pour out of me

For all the grief I’ve been having and the pain and the hiding I’ve been doing for weeks. For all the trauma and armor we have to put on and go through as women. For all of us who are warriors, for all of us who are just trying to get by. The tears fall and fall for every angel baby who was just as real to us as the smiling baby who was being held by his mother in the waiting room.