Crying Out

What I remember most from Caleb’s birth
Was that he cried and cried.
I was too tired and hurting to comfort him well;
But I don’t let my babies cry,
And I wanted the midwives to help,
To hold him or calm him so he could eat and sleep.
It felt like a very long time before
A double dose of Chamomilla calmed him.

Besides the physical trauma of a nine pound baby,
I held the emotional trauma of a traumatized son.

A year later now, to the minute, Caleb wakes and cries.
Whether he has a tooth coming in, or a cold coming on,
Or is just sussing out the memory of initial separation,
This time it’s just me awake to deal with him.

And so with both birth and birthday,
There is little I can do for these cries, so personal,
So unknown.

But I will sit up with you, son,
Through the watches of the night.

It’s not much, but what I have I give to you.