Reflections of a Pregnant Church

I can feel myself stretching.
There is tension in my skin,
and soreness in my breasts
as they usher life in.

I am enlarging the space
inside of myself;
This Body made up
of so many parts.

They were all comfortable,
all had their roles;
An eye as an eye
and an ear as an ear.

But something new has been added:
Fresh growth causes pain.
The organs in my Body
must rearrange to make space.

There are days when I wish
it was still just me;
in charge of my Body—
comfortable, clean.

It would be easier
to remain the same—
to eat the same food
and drink the same drinks.

To keep my rooms tidy,
arranged as they are.
To sleep when I sleep
and wake when I wake.

But I can feel the movement within.
Something—someone—nudges my ribs.

How can I,
imperfect as I am,
be the one to bring life
while broken with sin?

I have used my hands to hurt.
Can I use them, now, to hold?

I have held my heart close.
Can it now really grow?

I have trod in circles on my now-swelling feet.
Can I use them, now, to walk a straight path?

Forgive me, my children,
for the harm I have caused.
Teach me, now,
to be open to all.

I must nourish this growth
with my own Body and Blood,
waiting for the hour
when my time will come.

When I must expand even more
and let the Spirit draw near.

There will be pain;
there will be blood;
there will likely be tears.

For indeed,
without them,
no new life could appear.

Copyright © 2023 Kelly Sankowski.