“Birth Plan” by Bethan Murphy

 

Onscreen, she’s nestled in a plump

armchair. Eyes closed and barely huffing,

steady cool breaths. Next,

the birthing pool. Brief upshift

to panting – hands down, baby out.

Aloft, slick little

frog from a pond.

 

My eyes screwed shut too,

from the moment we entered

the cab. Bearded man

at the wheel. On my knees

in the back, one speed bump and

waterfall, reverse Vesuvius.

 

Clawing the hospital walls, 

tight knot of pain,

balled-up mole, wailing.

 

They took their time

to fill the pool. Seashore

sounds of tides, faint birdcalls,

a soothing narrator were

nowhere,

because the pain

in my back

had swollen like a monstrous

mushroom

exploding from the inside.

 

Drugs can lead to a cascade of intervention.

 

No belt. No gas. No jabs.

I will not have a

C-section.

 

Warm water, finally,

like a fleece blanket

wrapped around

a crash victim.

 

Void time. Between surges,

clinging to the metal bar,

waiting, dreading

the next electrocution.

 

Mental tickertape scrolled

I’m going to die.

Couldn’t feel pushing,

could only feel

mushroom, the bomb

in my back.

 

After

Iamgoingtodie,

the thought,

Ithastohappennow.

 

You shot out, you

luged.

Arms, not mine,

caught you and

swept you into my

numb cradle.

Brown-slimed thing,

bog creature.

What, I thought,

what

what is this?

 

Oh the websites,

the birthing books.

There had been a 

snap/splash,

but anyway,

there you were,

in my arms,

in the dark,

almost breathing.

 

Bonding. Microbiome.

Skin-to-skin.

 

For you:

antibiotics, morphine.

Tarred lungs and a

plastic cubicle

for one.

 

Close to dawn

on the ward,

birdsong outside,

cries of 

other babies

beyond thin curtains.

 

Birth crawl,

first latch.

The golden hour.

* 

Bethan Murphy has published poetry and flash fiction in magazines including Green Ink Poetry, Eucalyptus Lit, Arkana, and Sugar House Review. She teaches secondary-school English in Salisbury, where she lives with her husband, son and rescue cat Dora.