I’ve felt her grow inside me – felt the stretch and pang as she moved; heard the electronic noise rendering her heartbeat audible – now she’s here I can’t stop looking at her. I’m so in love.
Her eyes open a tiny slit, irises dark, blurred, not really seeking to settle on anything, but finding my face anyway, and suddenly her pupils contract and we hold each others gaze – it’s electric.
Her small, fragile, yet very solid weight lies upon me, cradled in my arms, her contours fitting mine with perfection as we stare, enraptured with one another.
A battle begins in her little soul – I can see micro-emotions flitting across her face like clouds scudding in front of the sun. Her rosebud mouth starts questing, and I turn her, feeling that odd thrill as she latches on and begins to satisfy her hunger. I grew her, now I sustain her, and I almost feel as though I am visibly glowing at my achievement – all mine, in spite of billions of women over thousands of years having done the same.
As I watch, a visible contentment settles over her person. Her hands rest upon me, warm; gentle; perfect. A bead of milk appears at the corner of her mouth, and as I bend closer to wipe it away, the scent of her rises up and envelops me, filling my nose and my heart with wonder.
I seek in her face the likenesses passed on – I can see my husband’s nose and my ears. Her skin is smooth and clear, though covered in fine fuzz, like a peach. The contrast between her skin and mine – old, tanned and clearly weathered – is startling. Her downy hair is lighter and finer than mine, and so very soft.
Husby comes into the room and sees us, a massive grin brightening his proud face. He leans over to kiss me, to kiss our girl, and to say “…
An earthquake suddenly hits, shaking the room violently. I panic, clutching her tighter to me – this can’t be happening – not now!
The mattress bucks and rocks as Husby turns over, his hand in its new position digging me in the back. I am dragged painfully from my dream into the stark light of dawn – arms tinglingly empty, as though only just vacated – heart empty and numb.
Husby begins to snore and I scrunch my eyes shut, trying desperately to cling onto my dream ‘we were in a room – I was holding my daughter – she was so beautiful’ another sucking grunt interrupts me and I turn over and snap at him, sleepily, to “Stop SNORING! NOW!”
I lay there in the grey, with the backs of my eyes awash with tears and darkness of the soul creeping in, trying (and failing) to not think about my two Neverborns, the promise of whom is forever lost. Trying not to think about my reality, the hope of which is almost non-existant.
I get up soon, unable to stand lying there awake, and, disturbed by my movements, Husby sleepily asks “What’s up? You seem out of sorts.”
“I am”, I reply “but it’s only the usual.”
That gaping abyss which opens under me even upon my first conscious moment and threatens to swallow me whole.
My living nightmare.
If only there were a way to close my eyes forever and live in dreams.