The Birth Poem by Sheena Blackhall

The eleventh day of October.2.30pm
After months of fertility treatment
Temperature watching
Hormone boosting and tinkering
Injections and pills
The culmination approaches

Mode of delivery, induction.
A suppository. A syntocin drip
A doctor wearing a psychedelic tie
Inserts a tool, mechanically breaks the waters

Episiotomy. A slice with blade. A stitch up
Haig-Ferguson forceps, metal scoops
Like salad tongs, clamped over
The incoming head

I was floating, high as the ceiling
On pethidine, then dropped
Like a stone into sleep

My boy had arrived,
birth jaundice yellow
Colour of hair,black.

Nine months like Russian dolls,
One womb, two heart beats
Now we were parted,
He to a special nursery, under strong lights
Me to cool linen sheets, a healing sleep

Nothing prepares you for motherhood
Will I cope? Will I fail? Will he suckle?

He arrived into the time of the Iron Lady
Rallies held by the National Front
Jimmy Saville fixing it for himself

‘He'll be a charmer, ' the midwife said
Forcing his jaws open to face the teat