Category Archives: A Birth Story

Blood splattered socks

Blood splattered socks

On any other day she would be considered unkempt. Her loosened hair is now matted amongst three day old braids. There are fluids staining the back of her blue gown. She has unbrushed teeth, despite vomiting all the curry from the night before. She’s eaten only popsicles since, and those too, pink, purple and orange,… Read more

When I knew I loved you

When I knew I loved you

I found out I loved you today. Today was day four, and together we walked the woods, our chosen path, the two miles we’ve walked together these past few weeks. It was all too familiar for us, only this time, you heard my heart beating from chest level on the outside, but I held you… Read more

The fertility fable

The fertility fable

I was in no position to ask questions. Legs sprawled, bum scooted. Just a little closer. A little closer please. It was my very first cervix scraping. And you could smell my fear – or if you didn’t, you should have. Though this investigation of my vagina was routine for you, it was not for… Read more

I was her first

I was her first

I wonder how it all sat with her when she went home that night after the birth. We were so much the same, both 24 years old, both in braided pigtails, and both new to the hospital. But I was the labouring patient, and she the resident nurse. And I was her first. When I… Read more

The headlines

The headlines

Around the time I was born in 1987, Margaret Thatcher was making headlines as being elected Prime Minister for the third time. Dirty Dancing had just been debuted, and Michael Jackson released ‘Bad.’ An anti-AIDS drug had just been approved by the FDA and The Simpsons was first aired on television. The mitten scarf was the… Read more

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