Delivery

Pale, blue, and still

Brought forth into world.

No first gasp, air for new lungs.

No cries, no movement, nothing

Silence is broken as she asks,

“Is everything okay?”

Hiding his terror he lies,

“Yes. It’s fine.”

He looks without seeing,

Petrified to know.

The result of violent struggle,

Plain to all.

In the cold and sterile room,

Work is quickly done.

Transferred to the table,

The small motionless form.

And now for her,

Exhaustion has taken hold.

Weary from the work,

She rests, numbed to pain.

He takes her hand, holding firmly.

Fears are buried,

The smile faked.

Silence permeates as they wait.

An eternity spent,

Time without meaning.

Only the cold and quiet proffer solace.

No comfort to the couple.

And then a piercing wail.

A strong cry from the new-born.

The hearty demand for attention;

Giving reason for joy.

The man is moved to look upon his child;

Weakened from the struggle,

Head with a bloody swollen lump;

Proof of the harsh delivery.

Scissors are placed in hand,

To severe that small life-giving cord.

Cautious in action, he cuts incomplete;

A second pass needed to finish.

They then clean,

And swaddle the tiny babe;

Transferring child to mother,

A relief to all.

Being placed in loving arms,

The crying is stopped.

With moving head and opening mouth

The daughter looks for mother’s breast.

The struggle over and won,

Peace settles in the room.

Mother and child happy and one;

The father looks with love and tenderness.