Jacqui Whittingham

This poem was actually written several years ago, when a close friend was very ill with a brain tumour. Sadly we lost him 5 years ago this week, which made em feel it was time to rework this a little and let it see the light of day. The title was invoked by somebody describing his tumour as being " about the size of a small plum". I'm still uncomfortable about the last stanza in particular and wonder if some of it is a bit too sentimental? 

About the realisation that I am getting old. 

This is the first poem I have ever submitted outside of a safe environment-I'm not sure what to expect. The poems title tells you everything you need to know. The poem is very simple. The immense joy of becoming a Mother has the razor sharp edge of fear cutting right through it.  

My first attempt for some time. Generated from a long period of waiting for a diagnosis of Aspergers Syndrome in my daughter which on one level could clear me of parental blame for the challenges she has to face but on the other hand may trap her - if she and we let it. (In the light of comments I modified this summary to give more clarity - may review again later)