Like this

It’s kind of like this:

rocky abdomen pain pulling yearning cyclical suffering navigating relationships breaks and beginnings moves and fidelity, some loss, lack of income and precarious see-saw wobbling.  Quite a lot of wanting and then the beginning, maybe another loss, then again, this gestation with vomiting-trying to eat-vomiting-wanting not to vomit-vomiting swollen heavy can’t sleep vague wondering daily daily daily dreaming, a worry, then fluid bomb limbs and visits visits vissa to the medical people and midwives and booking appointments all of the discussions some research no not too much research thinking of who I used to be but still being this one, somehow, and then a narrative with punctuated events that bring on the labour of new-galaxy pain that rips the mind sideways into primal primal tricks and then the impossible hill, the final test to push her out, and somehow it happens, I guess I must be able to do it after all, and then -coast-

silence, stare, chatty jibes presence presence presence intimate family core then thrown deep into hospital hell cut off my umbilical to the tribe bungee is untethered alone with toxic machine storm that bleeps neon around the clock and the wailing babies and silently flailing women feed like zombie cows on the sugar junk trying to get sustenance from the crap toast and jam and the walls butting walls appearing walls inside false air no darkness or respite or hush for the new one only walls trolleys bed bag table stuff stuff stuff walls and rackety curtains being pulled and hearing all of the narratives punctuated by events of the women and babies and families on the other side of the curtain and the visiting Africans being frowned upon for their volume and me being only desperate steel inside and then home

a new level of the job, of the fascination and skin-to-skin.  Gradually and quickly learning through the cycles and patterns and mysteries and small movements and signals.  Baby fuzz and growth and finding our way and new depth in all of us and housework housework housework wondering if I do too much housework resenting the gendered nature of it grateful for the sharing of work angry that it is so hard to tell what’s equal angry at the internal scripts about this getting overwhelmed at how much there is to do and

nappies nappies nappies wipes clothes dress undress nappies hands file baby nails mats washing washing washing soaking washing washing washing in washing out fold washing washing away washing in piles whites whites whites buckets and bins and plastic bags for bins and make cleaning products and body products and think about all of the blog posts and sweats and flushes and losing hair and weight comes back and neck ache and arm ache and upper back ache and heart width beyond the ribs and her smiles crack us open

in our partnership ways and this couple cosmos is a hard working one and there is graft and then, finally, employment.  Nerves grated down to the raw impulse to get through the tasks and pass her between us and she is hilarious and stunning, a mesmerist.

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