Chapter 11: the birth

Blood splattered onto the ceiling in the small semi-detached house. The child, blue from strangulation, let out a gasp and a cry, as the cord that had wrapped itself around her tiny neck was cut. The year was 1966, and these events had passed before, but because time is not linear, there was no reason that they could not be lived again, in the hope that comes with a new day. 

Mary Dolan looked sweetly and lovingly into the eyes of her second grandchild, and the baby’s wise old eyes gazed back at her. The old woman felt comforted. She been raised in the harshness of an orphanage in Ireland, shamed by the stigma of her beginnings, receiving little in the way of love from her black-gowned caregivers. The trauma of this birth had frightened her; she was not strong enough to survive any more loss. 

She looked at her daughter-in-law with compassion. This was the young woman’s second daughter, and Mary knew that neither of the girls had been planned. While the children were not exactly unwelcome, the young woman had ambition, and her priorities lay elsewhere. As she held her new grandchild, Mary saw this truth, and she knew that her daughter-in-law would not complete her motherhood obligation. Sadness washed over her, and she pitied the small mite in her arms who would, like her, know what it is to be un-mothered. 

“What is her name?” she asked. 

“Her name is Helen.” 

Mary heard the harshness of the “H” as her daughter-in-law uttered the name for the first time. It made her wonder what the future would hold for little Helen, and as she wondered, she felt within her the comforting presence of another, more ancient, Mary. 

She turned to her daughter-in-law. “All will be well, for everything is exactly as it should be.” 

The young woman slept, for the birth had not been easy. And so it was Mary who showed off the new baby to the proud father and grandfather, and it was Mary who gave the child its first feed, and cared for it until its mother was ready to take over. 

As was customary, visitors came to welcome the new baby. Aunts and uncles came, and the child’s other grandparents. Her six foot maternal grandfather towered over her cot, and leaned over to tuck a small yellow furry teddy bear into the blanket beside her. The bear nestled in beside Helen, and whispered in the infant’s ear. 

“All will be well, for everything is exactly as it should be."