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Alphabet Poem: Moving

Another week down, still need to pack
Baby things and my books.
Cardboard boxes in the living room,
Don't know how I'm going to throw it together in time.
Each day is one closer to being home,
Far away from here.
Grandparents want to see the baby I took away,
Hold her and tell me how much she looks like me.
I give the phone to her when they call,
"Just to see how you're doing," so they can talk to her.
Kind of strange, to think about leaving,
Like I'm giving up, or
Maybe just running away so I don't have to think about it.
No one's been able to give advice,
"Only you know what's in your heart," they say, and
Pretty sympathies that don't mean anything.
Quiet moments to think are few around here,
Reflection almost impossible,
So I can only hope
That the thinking I managed was enough.
Upstairs, my husband plays with the baby; he'll miss her
Very much.
With mixed emotions, every day I put a big
X through another day on my mental calendar.
You have to keep moving, though. Put a stuffed
Zebra in the box and tape it shut.