Do I love you enough? You, the aftereffect of endless appointments and near-daily blood sticks, the needles' cross-hatches marking me a junkie of sorts; the disappointment of every failed implant only fueled my appetite for the next humiliating procedure under the tented sheet, legs parted wider than the jaws of life. You, my quarter-million dollar princess; you, whom I desired more than my soul, my marriage; you, who for years existed but in fantasy: your warm baby-powder body snuggling against my breast, lazy afternoons playing peek-a-boo in Indian summer leaves, the scent of your milk-stained breath… Now, your red face agonizes confusion, wanting food, wanting sleep, wanting, always wanting, your selfish wail pervades, your needy blue eyes follow; I can't shower, can't piss without you clinging to me. You have transformed me into an aimless, sleepless wraith pacing the endless hall and all I want is to slam you against the wall or hand you to a stranger, perhaps the woman who gazed longingly at you in the park, but I keep pat-patting, trying to get you to burp into the disgusting white flannel draped over my shoulder, my snotty badge of motherhood. Isn't this proof enough of my love?
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This story catharsed after several nights of a colicky infant's refusal to stop wailing.
Fiction. Of course.
First published in the anthology Six Sentences: Volume II, April 2009.
Whew--brings the reader to the edge and back again. nice.
Strong form. Strong piece. Good writing, Linda.
sweet lord
Thank you for reading. I really DON'T feel this way about my kiddo. Peace...
Linda! This is so good! You are a force.
I don't feel this way either, but I can't say I haven't had moments where the 'wanting' didn't overwhelm me.
So many thoughts pass through the mind in moments of anger, bitterness. Some thoughts are more articulate and honest than others. This is powerful.
snotty badge of motherhood -- captured so well.
Ah Thank You Lou and James and Sara for reading and liking. The words, not the sentiment. Peace...
An important, intense study in Postpartum Depression (PPD). As a father of three I can sympathize with the narrator. This is a syndrome thousands of young mothers bear in silence. I think they'll find solace in realizing they honestly are not alone. All I could say to the protagonist is, "Don't worry -- it's worth it."
Ramon, thanks so much for your comments. Yeah, the thick of sleep-deprivation, the tanking hormones, yeah, yeah... peace...
"the scent of your milk-stained breath…" is very good.
Well done piece overall.
Wow - this is just great!
Very strong. The whirl and rush of all the emotions, what she feels, should feel, will feel.
Well done.
I did read this first, though I commented on II first. Came back and they are bookends indeed. Both powerful and contrast perfectly.
Powerful courage re truth and beauty here!
I don't know if it's appropriate to laugh, but I did when I read this part: "and all I want is to slam you against the wall or hand you to a stranger, perhaps the woman who gazed longingly at you in the park,"
Great piece. Looking forward to II
Very powerful and honest and brave. I think we've all had these darker moments in our thoughts, even for those - and especially for those - for whom we'd sacrifice everything. Passion is what it is. -- Q