[Part of: The Girls Who Went Away: Poems.]
The writing on the A-wing bathroom walls Was our sex education class. He said Don’t worry, getting pregnant’s really hard. We’d have to do it an awful lot. I kept denying it until I couldn’t. My mother touched my stomach and she frowned. Reminded of the smoothness of her own, I asked her how the mark’s removed, that scars The belly where they take the baby out: My God, that baby’s coming out the way That it went in. I thought she must be kidding. I started searching when my son turned twenty. I learned he’d written me a letter, and The agency had kept it secret. They said You might need time to think about all this. No, I don’t need a single fuckin’ minute.
After “Nancy I,” in The Girls Who Went Away by Ann Fessler.