As I reflect on heart-felt thoughts in celebration about motherhood, this is a painful memory of a barren woman I understood.

There’s no prescription that can help her out.
There’s no one who can hear her inward painful shouts.
She suffers alone the shameful thoughts of being barren
And feel there is no one who really is truly caring.

She can never see rays from morning sunshine’s.
In the deepest of her barren womb despair
Her companions love can never compare
To a little one that is not there.

So as she looks upon baby bumps you see
All she understands is there no child within me.
She feels she’s to blame for being barren you see,
As she continues to recite there is no child within me.

She questions the universe as to what she has done
To deserve the unbearable fate of having no little one.
Her womb will not give birth to little Samantha or Nate
She feels she will never hear the patter of little feet herself proclaim fate.

As a mother and a woman with total compassion
I would like to express to the woman with a barren womb
Please don’t bury yourself in an unnamed tomb.
For I feel you are more special than I
Because the creator walks by your mournful side.

So in celebration of motherhood everywhere
Let us take time to remember the barren woman in despair.
For the burden of being barren make her special you see,
Because she has taught us to cherish the children given unto thee.

© Artis Harrison