Two Bumps

Two bumps, unlike in elasticity,

Sprung from one’s uterus, where we burst our seams.

From recent stretch, breaks new mutantcy,

As one giant babe makes the first one seem a breeze.

Forth from the foetal growth in these two domes

A pair of emptied udders regain their life;

As a second misdirected exit overthrows

Romance ‘tween father and wife!

The tearful passage to that second birth (mark’d ‘boy’),

Brought new levels of hormonal rage,

Whose bodily effects none prepared one for-

The first didn’t sag and age?!

But if one with persistent pelvic floors attend,

(Plus abdominal breathing, apparently);

9 months gestation (emptying a sack of potatoes),

Such toil shall strive to mend.


Yet a glowing peace this morning brings;

As son and daughter invade one’s bed;

And stretch marks seem such trivial things,

To trade for being so blessed.

For never has anything such love known

Than my heroine and her baby bro!

Credit to Shakespeare, where credit is due (It’s Romeo and Juliet… Though surely you knew!) – but all tummies are definitely mine.