Hollowed

Hollow out my stomach, my chest, my all.
There will be no agonizing, burning, stinging pain.
Mostly.
Instead, a soon to be familiar ache.
Waxing and waning.
Always present once begun.

That feeling.
The one that moves up and down.
Side to side.
Is sometimes forgotten.
A sensation that is always present.
It fades into the background.

Something occurs.
An event usually not foretold.
I pull those shapes toward me.
The ones who click into place.
Inside the caverns in my body.
They always fit perfectly.
No matter how much they resist.
How little our bond feels.

As we, them and me, find their positions…
My torso warms.
It opens to them.
Welcomes them with open arms.
Gives them time… to fall into place.
They are held in place by muscles, flesh, and skin.
Loosely.
Not smothering.
My arms wrap around us all.

We inhale being-filling air.
Deep inside.
A sense of together.
A sense of one.
Safety.
Love.
Home.

Shortly, the reverse begins.
Replenished, we begin to separate.
One, then another, then another.
I feel the pain, aching, beautiful, as they pull away from skin, flesh, and muscles.
It is okay.
They are mere feet away.
The pain and the solitary tear, create an imperceptible smile.
Perhaps it is internal.
Where only I can see.

When their last fibers leave, my body heals.
Mostly.
The ache returns.
It is tempered by love.
The two sit side by side embracing.
An unlikely coexistence.

As I watch the planets.
Those that fill my body. My soul.
Who cause such juxtaposing feelings within.
Patience. Tolerance. Love. Wonder.
Exasperation. Frustration. Dislike. Monotony.
Ebbing and flowing.
Various combinations.

Many, many tough moments.
Causing aching in me.
For the love I need.
Or the angst of motherhood.
Both.

My flesh is open.
It will never fully close.
The beautiful, terrifying, vulnerability will remain.
Yet pain is worth the beauty.