thursday 29 june 02006 1:32pm
post-op visit with my surgeon
3838 california street

the first thing she said
right when she walked in

i had a dream about you

she paused and reached for something on the counter

i was in your belly again

i felt her curled in me so snug
the baby i will not have

(my teacher, angela, saying
i have all of my children inside me)

and for a moment wondered when she had been there before
-- again, she had said --
then realized what she meant, her hands her mind
inside me.

i don't know why i have those dreams.

this woman cut me open with a knife
split me up the middle like a fish
cleaned me out
wrapped my organs tenderly
in tissue designed to prevent them from scarring
and sewed me back together
layer by layer of my being
with her bare hands

i have been split open and sewed together
by the hands of a woman
who barely knows me

what a gift to have a surgeon who dreams of me
and says so.

the day she removed my staples
she brought her three year old son
who ran about the room while she freed me

today she put her hand inside me
tenderly, the first thing i've had inside
since she was in there last, the first thing
inside me this new life

and she hugged me before she walked away.