The Miracle of Birth

Photos of James River, RichmondThis photo of James River is courtesy of TripAdvisor

Giving birth was the most painful thing I have ever done and it wasn’t worth it. Everything was so much better before Alfie. I was me and Duncan loved me and we were happy. We were so happy. I was happy. We were happy together. Now I’m just nothing. Worthless. An intruder. Alone. Unwanted. Unloved. I don’t fit in anywhere. I don’t belong in my own home. Everything was better before.

If only everything could go back how it was. If only Alfie had never been born. I wish he hadn’t, I wish he’d died during…

 What the fuck is wrong with me? Am I really–? This isn’t me. It can’t be. God I’m so…

 It’s me. I’m the problem. Not Alfie. They’d be better off without me. Alfie and Duncan. They’d have each other. That’s all they need. They wouldn’t care. It would be good for them. It would be better. What’s the point? I’m not really here, anyway. I’m just taking up space. I’ve done my part. I gave birth. Now I’m just nothing and I’m alone. I might as well just…

 The river is swirling. It’s fast today. A strong current. It’s dingy and cold and ugly. It looks like me, like my soul, like how I feel. Maybe. Maybe I belong there. I should just –.

 When did I get so melodramatic? How cliché. Absurd. Ridiculous. I’m a joke. A sick joke. I sigh. ‘Come on, Alfie. Let’s go home.’

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8 thoughts on “The Miracle of Birth

  1. That’s the ending I was commentating towards during the story. They might be better without her, but they’d be better off with her being responsible. That the brevity of the piece makes it encapsulate like the momentary doubts and self-doubts of a mother before she shakes it off to resume normal life is a great effect. Everyone gets those moments.

  2. The ending takes the wind out of your sails. A very tense build up.
    Thanks also for dropping via my blog.
    Adam B @revhappiness

  3. For a moment I thought the despicable, the child would be thrown in the river. Wonderfully played out. At first you pity the mother, then you begin to pity the child more for what may lay ahead. (Hugs)Indigo

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