By Linwoo
Heavy-breasted, taut skin pulls across her swollen chest.
Her nipples ache.
A nurse reassures with singsong voice, bringing warm towels to soothe the tension.
“It’s day three and the milk is coming in. You’ll soon be more comfortable, don’t worry.”
Unnoticed, the birch leaves flutter silvery-white through the open hospital window.
Marie turns her sweaty head to one side, leaning into the sterile pillow.
A grey cloud is drifting through her mind; it stifles expected joy.
Heaving herself upright, she stares into the empty crib and is reminded of Grandma’s favourite lullaby.
Then, barely audible, she begins to hum the tune.
I found this so relatable
I found this intriguing and a little disturbing. I love the ‘singsong voice’ comment – so well observed!
Nice one!
O find this facinating.
This was really moving and brings back memories.
Such a sad little tale… which gives excellent imagery to emotions some women, sadly, can relate too… well written … kudos…