The Bubble

Near to nine months large, baby boy in my belly

I cried to my doctor, take him out

Save him now.

A friend had discovered, that her baby was dead

Unborn boy strangled in her womb

By her own deadly cord. How?

Oh, sadness  Oh, fear!

Doctor patted my hand

Said, he’ll never be safer than he is in your womb.
Now, I understand.

I’ve thought back on those words as my two babies grew

The first concussion
The first broken bone

The first time my daughter was carried off the field.

As they grew into teens 
And drove off on their own

I cried about rain, and the highway too slick

I prayed for a bubble to keep them safe.

The best friend’s betrayal, the breakups, the heartache

The knowledge that although they tried

That sometimes they won't win the game or the part
And my own heart broke
When they cried.

There is no charm or guarantee of safe haven

I raised them to go off on their own.

If there was a bubble to keep harm at bay

Would I save them from themselves?

Or let them find their own way?