Empty Arrival

I wrote this first as a poem, and now I have used it instead as in introduction. Thoughts welcome X

Forty-four hours hell. 

Those four words are so familiar they reverberate in my chest whenever I feel you near. Four words that have found residence in my non-compliant soul. The same four words lending a solid hand in the shaping of my days and nights in existence with you. 

I hear rumours of a special link a mother and daughter are supposed to magically possess a force so strong and unique unto only them they do not feel a need to share it with anyone other than each other. As I said, I have heard rumours, perhaps I have witnessed it first hand between other mothers and other daughters. I am correct in saying it will forever remain a rumour for you and I mother.

From the very first pang announcing my readiness to arrive into the world, I managed to drag you through a torturous tunnel of pain. Each second you said, was unbearable, the most unbearable experience you had ever encountered. Childbirth was by no means the beautiful thing written about in books, no, childbirth for you was a nightmare in the living. I fought all the way you said, I couldn’t make up my mind if I was coming or going. Your hips were slowly cracking wide open like the shell of a pistachio nut and ever since you have had a strong distaste for what once was your most favoured pastime treat.

You lost fluid, you said. So much fluid lost. My doing, of course it was. Nurses had to hook you up to a bag of salted water just to keep me from draining you dry.

After many hours of contractions, you become weak with exhaustion. Even before you laid eyes on me you were fed up �"of me. All love for me lost. You never said it outright, but I know. It was your unceasing intonations of your story telling over the years, your displeasure for me blossomed during your labour. The seed for your distaste planted the day you found out you were pregnant with me. You never wanted me. Your lack of love reverberates like a wind through a desolate iced over crevasse, swept out before it was ever given a chance to find its own perch.

Perhaps you were the reason I couldn’t decide to thrust myself forth into the torment of life. To share my time with a mother who ran out of love. If I could have turned around and reversed the effect of my growth in your womb I would have. If I could have kept myself one-half egg and one-half sperm, I would have. But it was never me who decided to write my own destiny before I came into this world. It was you. You decided a very long time ago that because you could never get what you wanted, I too would pay the price and live a life bedraggled by my mother's controlling nature and exasperated desperation to hang on to thoughts of what cold have been.

Father was there of course. Beside you the whole way on the day of my arrival. Father was always beside you no matter how much hate you spilled. Always stoic in his love for you. Unfortunately, you never let him in deep enough to understand the real meaning of love. 

In the thirty-sixth hour you barred him from being near you in the delivery room. Get out, you screamed. Useless, you called him. I suppose he did feel quite useless in his love for you never being returned. 

I am grateful that in the final minutes of my arrival, the midwife called for my father. She told you once for all to shut-up with the histrionics and push, and yes she said, the father will be present. You were not used to being spoken to in such a way. You did as she said without protest. 

Father being there just as my head passed through your canal balanced my world. I am lucky for that. I fear if I had of been born unto the world meeting only my love-barren, hot-tempered mother I may very well have spiralled off into the same loveless existence you chose to reside in. Father saved me that day. He saved me every day. In his own way. From you. 

Reviews

[emmajoy]

How is it that some adults are wrapped with an inexplicable something all through their lives? I wonder if it is- perhaps, because their birth day was so painful or so unwanted or dreaded, the ugliness of whatever stained their future. Tis said that some of us are born happy, or.. sad.. or whatever.

Your story, written in your own intelligently led format is very moving.. is worth a second read too, just to find the highlights of special extras. or hints, if you like: 'lack of love reverberates like a wind through a desolate iced over crevasse .. '

Maybe fear feeds the moment, maybe selfishness rises to the surface as the waters break.. whatever, your story is incredible and .. powerful.

[Philip Muls]

All the while reading this I was thinking, I hope this is not your own true story. I must say, it feeels 100% authentic and very painful (from the daughter's point of view).

If I could have kept myself one-half egg and one-half sperm, I would have. Brilliant.

To have to go through life thinking you were not wanted takes all your powers away...

Great work!

[Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere]

Well, KWP, this is quite a story you're telling here.

I've been present when our children were born and I'm very grateful that my wife didn't have a difficult labor. But I guess love can put up with some degree of pain. My wife always has said, yes it hurts but afterward, you forget it so fast seeing your newborn child. As a man, father we can't imagine what it is, giving life to a child. Our 'job' is in most of the cases a pleasant one.

However, missing a mother's love is another sort of pain a child can feel. This pain doesn't go away after forty-four hours. It's a nagging pain, I suppose, cutting every time inside your soul till the moment you have a heart of stone, and we all know such a heart is cold and without emotion.

I've lost my father after a short struggle against cancer and now I'm sorry that I haven't had the opportunity to say that I love him so much. I've learned from it and I'm seeing and helping my mother as much as I can, letting her know that I love her. Losing her one day will be a part of me that will die too. I suppose, that's the way life is. But that pain will not be as bad as the pain of a loveless relation between mother and child, because the good memories never die. :) Rudi

[Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere]

sorry for writing so much 'that', KWP :)

[KWP]

I appreciate you writing so much -- yes we should all love more, more openly, widely and freely, if this is one thing we should teach our kids ...

Thankfully both of my kids entered this reality with no trouble at all, and have been the same way ever since ... I am a lucky one ...

Thanks so much for the read I love your in depth thought and glad it triggered reflection X

[Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere]

You're welcome. :) Rudi

[andrew mitchell]

i had to laugh, so many times you here mother's to be,shout out obscenities in pain only to collapse when its over. i'm told its like trying to push a watermelon out. ouch!!!

[wordman]

well ,i guess dad was right ! yet once again,lol loved the write girlfriend

[Einstein Noodle]

i think i like the poem better ..but this gives you more room for details and "getting it all out" ... birth is always difficult for the mother and it is a shame when the "forgetting all the pain" talked about in the Bible is absent .. i rejoice in this father's stepping up! i was present for the births of all four of my children ... we went to Lamaze classes for each of them .. during our youngest birthing i was dutifully encouraging my wife to use her breathing techniques and i got such a look ..it skewered me to the wall without a word ..so then i dutifully shut up and tried to look out of the way ;) but no matter who was in the room when the birth was complete and all was OK such a wondrous hush and reverence fell upon all ..perhaps it was just me but i swear everyone felt it ... the moment so memorable ... love ya KWP!
E.