“If a woman does not look into the issues of her own deadness and murder, she remains obedient to the dictates of the predator. Once she opens the room in the psyche that shows how dead, how slaughtered she is, she sees how various parts of her feminine nature and her instinctual psyche have been killed off and died a lowly death behind a façade of wealth. Now that she sees this, now that she registers how captured she is and how much psychic life is at stake, now she can assert herself in an even more powerful manner” – Women Who Run With the Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes.
24th November 2019
Iris was born in 7 minutes. 7 days after her estimated due date. I fell to my knees just in time as the midwife pushed a pillow under my knees as my girl came rushing to meet me. I held her to my breast and cried with such joy, her little face was so calm, so peaceful, so knowing. She was staring right into me. As with a wave, I was elated but then came the crash. I climbed on the bed, shaking, cold, feeling frayed and as though I were half rubbed out. Iris suckled at my breast, she was so strong and knew exactly what she wanted.
I lay back, I recall a huge feeling of relief but then began wondering at all the blood around me. So much blood and I was aware that I was still bleeding. I looked at the faces around me, they looked concerned. All too quickly they were putting their hands on me, in me, examining me, pressing firmly on my tummy, trying the locate the source of the bleeding. Why wouldn’t it stop? I felt as though I was floating above myself. They took my tiny baby and placed her in Chris’s arms. The midwife told me that my uterus was not contracting and that they needed to give me a syntocin drip to stop the bleeding. I couldn’t stop shaking, my teeth were chattering, I was thirsty, and I felt so strange. I knew, with the strongest conviction I have ever felt that I was dying. I nodded to the midwife as she put the canula in my hand. Tears fell quietly as I lay still and felt the warm flow of life-blood leaving me. I said goodbye to my beautiful children. I was waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Just waiting to float away.