Bleb: A Poem

I scared my baby today.

I screamed

Not at her, but because of her,

Her sweet piranha mouth on my breast,

Digging into just the right patch of painful skin

To make me wail

A cry so sudden and desperate,

A shriek that had been building up beneath the surface

Like the very milk blisters she was biting into.

I wish this were easier.

This should be easier.

Pushing her out of me was easier than this.

Somehow this pain feels so lonely and far less glorious, far less recognized.

These shrieks go unseen and unmentioned,

Not like the roar that echoed through hospital halls.

It feels like too much for polite conversation,

Like something I must stuff under a nursing cover

And shush desperately to sleep.