(A Profane Poem for Profane Times)

Just tough it out
He says
As if he knew anything about 
9 months and growing 
Round like a bowling ball
Suprised by how much
Carrying a bowling ball
Weighs down every movement
Makes every movement slow and excruciating 

He had an affair with a porn star
When his wife was deep pregnant 
And didn’t want to even look at him
Maybe he could have 
“Toughed it Out”
Like he is asking you to

As if he knew the thoughts
The anxiety every night laying in bed
The shifting with pillows to take the 
Pressure off of swollen joints

By the end my feet had changed sizes
Mostly from swelling
But also from the added weight carried by my bones 

Tough it out.

The truth is Tylenol doesn’t do shit
But makes you feel like you are doing something
Which is always a comfort 
reaching for a bottle
of recognition
for how hard the road.


I made a god damn human being out of my body!
And you are asking me to tough it out?

Look I know what’s best for my child
And it doesn’t require my suffering 
When there is a safe pain medication

And I bare guilt anyways.
That I haven’t done enough.

I spent the night in the ER
at 15 weeks
after a run
and there was spotting
a bright bloom in the toilet.

there was nothing they could do
but I went in

just to hear the heartbeat 

I won’t be lectured to by a man
Who is so weak
He can keep it in his pants.