A neighbor in her mid-thirties. A woman in her seventies. Their single commonality? They both asked me: Where's number three? I have a son, his name Charlie And then McKay, he's not quite three In my heart, both fit perfectly Yet others ask: Where's number three? Perhaps it's that I miscarried, My spouse's infidelity, The ache of infertility, A battle raging mentally, Illness on a crippling spree, Our family is complete, maybe. The reason's one or more of these, Yet you dare ask: Where's number three? In this question, running free Are judgements, jeering icily "You're not enough, Mik, can't you see? Buck up and give us number three!" I used to flounder, squirm, agree Or curl up small, cry, and plead. With time, I've seen things differently. I won't explain for number three. The questions of maternity Are just between my spouse and me And Parents, guiding Heavenly So please don't ask: Where's number three? Artwork Credit: Be...
Hey friends, I'm Mikayla! This little blog is a way for me to express my belief in God and the many blessings He sends my way. I know He lives, I know He loves me & you, and I know He is good! I am an author, blogger, grad student, wife to my beloved Kevin, and mama to my sweet sons. Welcome! (For more info about my books and grad studies, visit mikjohnsonwrites.com)

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