‘The Midwife’ is a play on ‘The Raven’ by Edgar Allen Poe. You can download a beautifully designed printable from Etsy.
By A.M. Valli
Once upon a midnight dreary, I did wander, weak and weary
Up and down the dark and quiet birthing centre hall
While I ambled, belly aching, 9 months after baby making
Soon I felt a tugging that was deep within my core.
It was time, I knew, and waddled back towards my door.
Though it was my strong intention there would be no intervention
This birth would be natural! Like a thousand years before.
But presently the pain grew stronger and I held resolve no longer
“Bring me meds post haste,” I cried, “and then bring me some more.”
Quoth the midwife “if you’re sure.”
Soon I had the nitrous flowing, thoughts of epidural growing
“Final one!” I swore (though we’d been down this road before).
Groaning, sweating, pushing, huffing, moaning, then more pushing, puffing
And I called my husband names I’ve never used before.
Quoth the midwife, “just ignore.”
Suddenly I heard the crying and my husband sniffing, sighing
Pain forgotten, arms outstretched as tears began to pour.
“Aren’t you clever,” midwife smiled wrapping up my newborn child
Swaddled cosy in the depths of special midwife lore.
And I held the bundle I would always now adore.
Stoic through my yelps and pouting, putting up with screams and shouting
Does the magic fade when a miracle’s a chore?
Years it’s been since that November but I always will remember
Practiced hands that cared for me and thousands women more.
“Am I just a daily job, or maybe something more?”
Midwife shook her head and softly said, “Evermore.”