Wednesday, 23 September 2009
What is the truth?
...Aha, I recall 'coming around' after a drug-free childbirth, (blasted National Childbirth Trust!), speaking to my (not-yet-mother) midwife about the pain and upheaval during childbirth being a conspiracy by women against women!
Not in a mad, raving, salivating way you understand, but more by patiently and calmly implying that we do not know what the hell it is we will go through during childbirth.
Because we each go through it on our own, whether there's a partner there to 'share the burden' (really?) or not - And no-one can or will tell you what it's like... No-one, not even your dearest friend. The one who said she'd share everything with you. E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g.
So we harbour and hold our embroidered chinoiserie dressing gowns to our bosom and expanding waist-line, and we pack our shining hand-mirrors, (what are they supposed to be for, again??!), and cotton-comforting, (i.e. not opening-at-the-back in a big-arse-revealing way), pretty night-gowns to our bare souls, while we are stripped of any dignity and sense of self by the bold, cold medical profession who prod and poke and provoke and pry and rarely pamper mothers during The Act of Childbirth (First Act).
And then, post-partum, we find ourselves again, in life...
Piece by piece, nerve by shattered nerve, in the beauty of being a mum and loving our bairns unconfeckingditionally...
In spite of being terrified, horrified. Battered and knackered... Worn-out and worn-in, cut and severed...
And we live...and we breathe, in and out.
In and out...
And we learn about life and how tough it really is out there in the wide, wild wilderness, and we fight for our kids, and we scream and we hurt and we bleed.
And we cry for them. Out loud... And we love them.
Them and us. Against the wide, wild world.
...And then they become teenagers... and you seriously wonder, is it too late to have them adopted?!
I kid you not! (Second Act).