Fetching Isla
Published by Eunoia Review
the hospital is just around the
corner, we can see it from our apartment
but the sat nav told you to take the back route
over speed bumps, round those tiny roundabouts
the new light on the dawn water shining broken crystals
that would have been beautiful. i curse you, repeatedly and we
arrive just in time for me to fall to all fours
feel hands and arms lead me to the water, water
not hot enough let it burn me if I am descending
water not deep enough let it drown me if this is the way i go.
i have been here before, preparing in the swollen days
for the descent, the transaction now fast approaching
limbs smashed against white porcelain
breath hollowed by unwinding howls
this: is where life goes to die
this: is where screams stop hearts
this: is where touching fingertips with death might
bring back a life, but i don’t know whose
or if i’ll be there too
this: is where it all went wrong before. and so
i leave you for a moment
my eyes lock yours then turn black and empty
my hips up bones floating in the bathtub, i left you
for a moment, your hands holding my
head in the water telling me it’s done it’s
done. It’s Done. a parcel of slippery flesh handed
over and wet mushroom skin
skin sagging for stories to fill it and
hairy shoulders and nails already in need of a trim and
eyes searching for anything holy and unhuman.
this: is the agreement
a love too big to feel at once
and so i drink a coke, text my parents a photo ‘here she is!’
still vibrating still arriving still bound and pulsed together
feel her knowing mouth on my nipple
feel the blood pour out of me in rivers and rolling waves
wonder what just happened. search again for your eyes
resist the heavy hands of the midwife trying to ground me
i want to say: i’m trying to rise
let me rise.
An extra note
I didn’t mean to write a poem about giving birth, but then this kind of happened! This is a poem about the birth of my second daughter, Isla. Having had a very traumatic experience with the arrival of her older sister, I had a real sense as the labour approached that I was entering into some kind of contract with death in order to bring her safely into this world.
I’m always envious when I hear stories of empowering births on kitchen floors or in rose-petal filled bathtubs - my experience of childbirth has always been violent and extreme, and both times right at the end I completely ‘disassociated’ to the point that I felt that I had died. This time, I was brought back into the room by my husband holding my head and saying ‘you’ve done it, it’s done, it’s done’ over and over.
To me, while childbirth is an incredible, transcendent experience I believe you have to descend to a place where you touch fingertips with death before you can bring back life. And then suddenly, there you are, an incredible warrior woman with a new baby in your arms, trying to ascend back into the human world with the knowledge that you will never be the same again.
Side-note: the bit about the journey to the hospital at the beginning is true. Lesson learned: if you know the way, turn off the sat-nav! I think Koji has just about recovered from my wrath, speed bumps and labour contractions do not mix well :)