I first met you in the sterile chamber,
between white walls, under neon light.
It was strange to think you existed
outside of the human body,
six cells, pristine
in your transparent cradle
with the eyes of science
spying your very first
hours in the world.
I look down at the surface
of my abdomen, wondering
if under all the surgery scars
and injection bruises
something is actually coming
something resilient and stubborn.
And while philosophers and clergymen,
politicians and the man in the street
discuss whether you are or are not
I like to think you’ve accepted
and are already making a statement
through your daring to live
against all odds.