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Juan Alejandro

*Originally Posted June 2014.
Edited January 2016.

Another trip to the E.R.
Same monotonous question
‘Any chance your Pregnant?’
I want to yell:
You fucking pig, do you know anything about the persistence of loss?
I watched the blood of my life spill onto my Parents bathroom floor when I was 17.
He was Mi Hijo, Juan Alejandro.
I then had a Total Abdominal Hysterectomy when I was 23.
I’m 34 now. Do the Math you fucking drop out.

Every January 29.
It hits me like fire.
But, different now.
Something happened.
What I did to him.
Never consuming more than 500 Calories. His Father beating me.
Keeping you a secret for eight years.
What I did to me.
I didn’t have a Dilation and Curettage (D&C) after I saw you on my parents grout white tile.
*This Procedure could have possibly prevented my Total Abdominal Hysterectomy at the age of 23.
Endometriosis can be caused by Miscarriages.
*I had Stage IV.

Now, I’m empty, which is fine, ok.
I could break a thousand mirrors, and I still don’t want to be a Mother.

I don’t sing your name.
I keep you to myself.
You would have been 17.
I still know.
It was not your time.
But, I do keep the pain near.

I thought about aborting you.
I didn’t want you to be a product of My
Domestic Violence.
*Tu padre me dolía maneras inimaginables.
Tu padre me dijo que, ‘Si usted tiene un aborto, voy a cortarte la garganta.’
But, as history goes, I lost you on my own.


That’s you.
Your looks, like your Father.
But, your happiness, mine.
There are days I rehearse.
Copy someone else’s courage.
But, I know.
He doesn’t deserve to fathom my pain.

As Your Lullaby Goes:
“You, you are, oh you are
The little boy made for me in the stars
In the star, that’s why I can’t let you go
The little boy made for me in the stars
That’s why I love you more the further I go.” Nelly Furtado

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