Sunday, 6 June 2010
Ten weeks on, the birth is still a knot that I endlessly worry and try to unpick.
It's a memory that everyone tells me will fade, but its threads are so tightly bound to my fears, my love, and my battered and broken body, that it still sits like a hard lump at the centre of my brave new life.
However hard I pick at it it's impossible to unwind; pain, panic and powerlessness are tightly intertwined with pride, and deep down at the core is the pleasure that comes from participating in one of life's truly seminal moments.
Some days, the memories that return are gruesomely graphic and I simply want to forget; others, they seem strangely remote and I yearn to recapture the realities of the experience that has left me changed for good.
Over time, I'll probably accept that this is a knot that I'll never be able to unravel, but for now I continue to be amazed and horrified by my capacity for endurance, I continue to nurse my body back into health and I continue to love the brand new baby and the brand new me that have resulted from the experience.