Post-Partum Poetry Thought

I think I will not write poems about the birth of my third son. I might be wrong, but I’d bet not. The birth itself was so real, present, calm, loving, right. What poem “needs” to be written about it or of/out of it or in it? Does that mean that I write poems in order to fix experiences? I have always found it annoying when people tell me I write because it is therapeutic. I understand how writing can be therapeutic (and the writing as a therapy can be extremely useful), but the notion that every time I write a poem I’m performing a self-treatment is disturbing. And, if it is true, does it mean that publishing poems is like taking photos of yourself taking medication and showing these snapshots to friends?
We’ve all been to readings (particularly open mics) when the poems sound a lot like A.A. testimonies. Again, nothing against testimony or A.A., but I often think, sitting at these kinds of readings, “I’m doing something different.” Am I? Or is my poetry simply a more subverted type of testimony, a less obvious form of self-therapy?
In my photography classes with Lois Conner I learned to say I was “making pictures” rather than “taking pictures,” and I hope making a poem is more than recording a (bad) experience or “expressing” how you feel (for more on my thoughts about poetry as “expression” see my GNAT. I don’t write poems to make myself feel better or to convince someone else to do something—these aims are more the purview of diarists, journalists, and essayists—but what then to do with this realization that I will probably not write about the birth of my third son because I don’t need to? (I certainly felt I did need to write about the birth of my second son, see my discussion and birth poems on How2).
Does the fact that I don’t need to write about this birth mean that when I do write, I write to fix something?