She tapped gingerly at the birthing room door announcing herself more so than requesting admission. Unsure of how her visit would be received she tiptoed forward. The postpartum mother lay resting silently. Her eyes nervously scanned the room for the bassinet and new baby - a girl.
She stood unsure of what to do. Lifting the baby could wake the mother. Waking the mother could cause a confrontation. She ached battling her heart and her head searching for why she came, how she could explain herself. Three years were long and silent both women the victims of circumstance. The distance that had grown between them was undeniable.
She turned to leave suddenly ashamed and hoping to make a clean getaway. Just steps from the door, her cell phone betrayed her, startling the mother awake and stirring the girl child.
The mother blinked and wiped away the blur that follows broken sleep. "Have a seat," came the invitation.
"I'm sorry," was her stuttered reply, "I had to come."
"I'm glad you did. Stay a bit. Meet my daughter."
With this gentle exchange all the tension melted. She belonged with them and them with her.
This is beautiful Kristina- you've been really busy I see- tons of posts on here to read :) I got your email, sorry for not replying yet, I've been having a bit of a lifequake with my autistic child :( I will be in touch when life has calmed down a bit- so impressed with how you're keeping your writing going :)
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I love this. Your words are beautiful!
ReplyDeleteI didn't know you had another blog! Bad me! This is beautiful, really beautiful.
ReplyDeleteHi, I found my way to your blog through a jumbled path but am so glad I did - your words are wonderful and each "snippet" has me desperately wanting to read more to find out where the story goes....will most definitely return :0)
ReplyDeleteyou have a wonderful way with words...
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