An early morning premonition
a midday phone call
and earlier this evening photographs
A grandson - with a face of such individuality
and a most beautifully-shaped mouth.
I do not know who he takes after.
Showing posts with label birth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birth. Show all posts
Tuesday, 26 July 2011
Sunday, 19 September 2010
Arrogant and bloody-minded
In the moments before my life ended I was arrogant, opening my eyes and looking with curiosity at the doctor who had just pronounced “there is no blood pressure ... and the pulse is fading fast.” I thought to myself “he looks Egyptian ... silly man, sounds as if he thinks I’m dying” and I closed my eyes again, hoping to work out for myself what was going on.
My next thought saved me. I had just given birth to a son, and on the way to the hospital we had passed, driving in the opposite direction, my regrettably little-loved sister-in-law who had, two days previously, given birth to a stillborn son, full-term but throttled by the umbilical cord.
This second, bloody-minded, thought – which began only mildly incoherent and ended with a scream at least as loud as the initial pain of my rupturing uterus – was “motherless child ... childless mother ... tidy solution ... NO! ... I do not want her to have my child.” And it was this which arrested my death and which enabled my GP to speak of me as a ‘modern day miracle’ since the charts which I saw later confirmed that yes, I did, in fact, have only minutes left – maybe as many as three.
[This originally appeared as a Thinking Ten piece]
My next thought saved me. I had just given birth to a son, and on the way to the hospital we had passed, driving in the opposite direction, my regrettably little-loved sister-in-law who had, two days previously, given birth to a stillborn son, full-term but throttled by the umbilical cord.
This second, bloody-minded, thought – which began only mildly incoherent and ended with a scream at least as loud as the initial pain of my rupturing uterus – was “motherless child ... childless mother ... tidy solution ... NO! ... I do not want her to have my child.” And it was this which arrested my death and which enabled my GP to speak of me as a ‘modern day miracle’ since the charts which I saw later confirmed that yes, I did, in fact, have only minutes left – maybe as many as three.
[This originally appeared as a Thinking Ten piece]
Monday, 15 March 2010
Premature
I didn’t exactly sprint down the hill - it wasn’t my style – and as well as the residue of self-protection was the painfully recent remembrance of the hard-eyed Malayan, her scalpel blade flashing and tweezers snatching around my most tender areas. A midday of blue and eye-screwed brightness, birdsong and a well-washed denim dress, smiling shoppers toiling bags towards me, returning from the town. I smiled too, full to the brim with joy: blissfully lacking anticipation of the crushing sense of responsibility which would later overwhelm us.
He wouldn’t be expecting me: he’d dropped me off before eight that morning and planned to pick me up after six, a third successive Saturday we’d spent apart. Hearing me rattle open the door, he came to the top of the stairs, paintbrush in hand, enquiring and concerned. I, a bit breathless: “They weighed her – they said her weight’s OK – we can fetch her now – we can bring Julia Kate home!”
He wouldn’t be expecting me: he’d dropped me off before eight that morning and planned to pick me up after six, a third successive Saturday we’d spent apart. Hearing me rattle open the door, he came to the top of the stairs, paintbrush in hand, enquiring and concerned. I, a bit breathless: “They weighed her – they said her weight’s OK – we can fetch her now – we can bring Julia Kate home!”
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