Immaculate Conception
The day my mother confessed
She had conceived me though IUI,
Guilt swallowed her eyes.
Her voice grew quiet
And shame took over her body.
She had betrayed God
For a baby.
Wanted something
So natural,
Motherhood,
And obtained it artificially.
Throughout my life,
She repeatedly told me
I was special.
I never quite understood why
Until that day.
Feliz día de las madres
I think about the first interactions
Between my mother and I.
She’s the first person
And place
I called home.
The vibrations traveling
From her mouth to her belly—
Yo sentí el español antes
De oírlo, hablarlo, leerlo, ni escribirlo.
She would tell me
You ate whatever I ate
In an attempt to argue
I should like the foods she eats.
I can’t deny I adore chiles rellenos
But I also can’t digest garlic or onions.
I inherited taste and malaise.
I look down to my belly button,
It once was connected to my mother.
And her belly button was once connected to her mother,
And my grandma’s was connected to my tatarabuela.
We all have reminders we were connected to each other—
Una red de cordones umbilicales
Alimentando la una a la otra
Isn’t that beautiful?
Isn’t that amazing?
Translate This
“It seems like she doesn’t need a translator,”
The call nurse told her colleague,
While I was still on the line.
Caught off guard
By the offhand comment,
I am suddenly enraged
With my healthcare provider
For the first time while pregnant.
I am upset—
My Hispanic name
Gave me away.
They assumed my abilities
Based on my name and ethnicity.
Speaking in my white voice,
Not slipping a single word in Spanish,
Even after
Transitioning
From English learner
To fluent English speaker
In third grade,
To graduating college,
There still remains the doubt
That I can speak the language.
I remember how my mother
Was rushed out the hospital
After she gave birth
Because my parents were
Poor, immigrants, and spoke little English.
Always rushed.
Never tended to.
Adequate medical
Care:
Does that exist
For me?
Or does that only apply to white mothers
Who plan,
Who have saved their coins
Across multiple generations,
Where a baby is a blessing,
Not a concern
nor a mistake?
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