Category Archives: Labour & Birth

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

Dutch Tulip Red

Dutch Tulip Red

I’ve watched a woman’s toes in labour enough to know. Enough to know when she’s reaching her limit, enough to know when the true labouring of labour has begun. There are the toes that curl into tight, whitened balls, or those toes that stretch, splayed further apart than they have ever gone before, looking to… Read more

After the storm

After the storm

There always comes a calm. That moment when the pain slips away into her distant memory. That moment when it becomes worth her sacrifice. Everything before the calm was either a nightmare or a dream. Everything was either nothing she needed or everything she required. Everything is a chapter closed. I can promise you the… Read more

What’s in a name

What’s in a name

You’re only six pounds, freshly born amongst sunbeams on a sunny summer day. You’re only hours old, and yet, you already have a story, because you have a name. Like me, a cherished family member stakes claim to your namesake, like me, right in your name’s middle. And as I sit here reminiscing about your… Read more

When she says she’s dying

When she says she’s dying

I’m dying, she tells me. Looking square in my eyes, her face only inches from mine as she clings to my neck from the bathtub she tells me again, as if I hadn’t heard. But oh, I sure did. And he looks to me in horror from his perch on the toilet seat, as I… Read more

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