Friday, December 05, 2003

 
they talk about postnatal depression, and I can see where that comes from - the repitition, the sleeplessness, the mundanity - but what about postnatal joy?. what about being about to turn off the light at night and catching sight of your 22-day-old son's sleeping face and spending the next 15 minutes transfixed, staring at his squashed-up little features (admittedly designed to set off protective feelings in adult humans!). what about looking down at the whorl on the back of his head as he sleeps on your chest? what about staring into his eyes, tickling his feet, settling back into the chair as he locks onto your breast and begins to drawn nourishment from you?

and as Nick Cave sings, I don't believe in an interventionist God. but if I did, I'd ask him not to intervene when it comes to you, not to touch a hair on your head. and if the world takes everything else from me, I just want to be left this: my child.

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