The Birth Plan

Kindly get my coat as I have changed my mind.

I won’t be giving birth today, I think you will find.

I did read all the books but this is not for me.

I think I’ll cross my legs, go home, have a cup of tea.

Midwife I may strike thee. Imagine my cervix is a flower?

Are you having a bloody laugh? I’ve been at 9cm for an hour!

He’s made himself a Pot Noodle, my calm, collected hubby

And he’s watching a Columbo which just isn’t bloody funny.

I watch him, brazenly slurping, and hope he chokes on a pea,

Because frankly I’m furious that this is all down to me.

Ouch, Jesus Christ! Epidural, I beg you, please!

I know my birth plan states natural but my brain must have had a disease.

What the holy hell was I thinking? Drugs! Do it! Now!

What do you mean it’s too late, you stupid bloody cow?

Expletives leave my lips, firing around the labour ward.

I won’t repeat them to you (but they’re miles away from Good Lord).

Hubby offers his hand which I am compelled to bite

Because he isn’t in any pain and that doesn’t feel right.

The head is here, I hear someone say.

Can I go home now? Do this another day?

The pressure makes me push and push and push

And scream like a banshee resulting in the gush

Of the slippery newborn and then the blessed cry.

We have a baby daughter. Welcome. Hello. Hi.

Trickling down my cheeks, happy salty tears

As I snuggle her in close and forget all my fears.

Gazing into hubby’s eyes, loving him more than ever,

I forget now, why was I at the end of my tether?