Woman by Dona

Posted on November 27, 2012 by

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A woman was asked to push. PUSH, they were saying, “pass! Go! Pass more!” and she does so, even though she’s experiencing worst pain when she pushes. She went through the pain as if it was inevitable, and shouted through it all as if it wasn’t her choice. She kept on pushing, with tears of agony in her eyes, until she was asked so aggressively to stop “Stop! Stop pushing!”

8 subsequent seconds passed in silence, and she saw and heard nothing. Didn’t dare to even ask. She knew it only when she heard her baby’s cries. She succeeded at overcoming the greatest thing a woman can go through. She’s a mother.

They take the baby away. She catches a glimpse of him, still crying, his hands and legs moving and he’s naked with her bloodstains. She cries, but in happiness now. He’s her child now. She doesn’t know why, but something deep inside her tells her this is all that she ever wanted, and she tries her best to mouth out her concerns for his well-being, but a cloud of unconsciousness pulls her out, but the is baby crying in return, as if confirming himself by the only thing he manages to do at the second.

A time passes by, she can breathe easier now. It’s quieter and she finds both, husband and her new-born baby sitting beside her. He looks at her collapsed belly, sweaty forehead and pale color.

He kisses her cheeks, she moans awake, “we have a baby now, love”, she says. “I know”, he answers, smiling. It’s his baby. He knows he has to overcome lots of his uncertainties and realizes that his fears of commitment are now roaring.

She’s later on told about a complication of her delivery. She lost her uterus, but she still has a baby. What does a uterus work for, excepting for letting her have babies?

They both go back to the cozy house of theirs, and the days pass by. After some tough first weeks, with the baby cries and the impossible sleeping patterns; she excuses her husband’s out-of-place, continuous outbursts.

12pm on a random day, with the baby falling asleep at last; she lies back with exhaust, and she feels her husband’s face closer to hers. “We’re lonely now?” He whispers, “he just slept” she says. He holds her waist, pulls her closer. She feels his knees on her sides and his lips trailing her necklines. Slowly he unbuttons her PJs, then draws back to take a look at her body. Even after weeks now, the impact of that pregnancy is still present. She’s frowning, knowing what he’s thinking. Hoping he can just stop looking. He gets up, sighing, gives the shirt back, and leaves their room. A moment later, she had milk flowing out of her right breast the very same way both her eyes were flowing with tears.

He talks on the phone in the other room; “Take me with you tonight” he says. The night comes; he leaves the house as usual and enters the Holiday Inn with company. She’s a 24-year-old, tall, blonde woman. She wore a black dress, black leggings, black heels and she put on a dark make up. Besides her striking, mysterious, sexy style; her eyes had a blue sadness and rejection in them. She says her name’s Eve.

Alone in the room with her; he forgot about her sadness. He also forgot about his wife’s flaws, his baby’s smiles and gasps and all his weights. This all happened when he reached the hills of her body. He simply swam the sea of the hotel room bed besides the confused woman in black. He looked at her perfect body in both pain and pleasure and let himself be driven by the darkness inside of him.

12am, he left the hotel room, went back to his own house with both his wife and child, sound asleep. He kissed them both on the cheek, and spent the rest of the night brooding about what he has, and what he hasn’t.

Eve waited for the voice she always waits for, the door being shut behind. It takes her 30 minutes to get up, take a shower and get dressed back. She has the hotel room all for herself now. She calls her dearest one, dialling the number manually – even though she can just redial – she do it just to feel the pleasure of thoroughly reciting anything belonging to her; Sara. Anticipating some good news, she tells her she’ll be coming right now.

20 minutes later the door knocks and Sara enters. “What?” Sara asks, and Eve, smiling broadly; starts to tear. She tries to explain; “I think it worked tonight. I think I’m..”, “Don’t say it! Oh my god, it’s happening!?” Sara shouts, and starts kissing her palms, with both of them crying.

The next day, Sara starts searching for the man who slept with Eve the other night. It has been a brave move to try this and have it working, and it did, and it’s better off he never knows. They just want to know his identity for future reference.

6 months past, Eve quitted her job and is now expecting a baby. Sara is keeping the last ultrasound image of their baby girl right where she works; along with a picture of the stranger who happens to be her baby’s father.

Somewhere else at about the same time, the father is still haunted with the idea of having lost all the world’s pleasures. Even though he now have a baby boy who’s crawling their home ground inch by inch, and even though the baby boy claps his hands whenever he comes home; waiting for the father to carry him, he finds pleasure in that relationship but he’s still never fulfilled. His wife knows it, and she even knows that whenever it’s a Friday night, he comes back home at 12am sharp, satisfied in a way she never gave, and only then does he sleep deeply till the next day.

The wife had made up her mind now; she’s got a plastic surgery clinic address on a post-it, somewhere inside her wallet. Once he left the home she took the baby and went there. She had to wait only 30 minutes before meeting the consultant plastic surgeon she was told about, Dr. Sara.

She enters a cozy, simply decorated office with a wide desk, leathery chair and brown comfy sofa. She checks the hanging certificates as she waits for the doctor. 3 minutes later, a good-looking brunette with short hair greets her, apologizing for keeping her waiting. Dr. Sara had a pair of brown eyes that shone with warmth. They discussed her reasons for having such an operation, she never felt more relaxed mentioning this to anyone.

After their first cup of coffee, she caught a glimpse of an ultrasound image and congratulated Dr. Sara for it. She had to recheck though. Sara didn’t look that pregnant. “It must be your sister’s baby?” she asked. “No, it’s ours, me and my partner”, answered Sara “and she’s a girl” she added, carrying that wide smile of hers. “Oh, and who’s the father?” the homophobic woman asked, “It’s a stranger, actually. He doesn’t know either. We only have an image of him. He’s good looking though”, and she showed the Facebook picture of her husband.

It seemed funny to her, how homosexuals thrive for commitment. She didn’t have to react to that. She knew better now, she has a boy who carries this man’s pose. She’ll love them both the same. She still had to undergo the plastic surgery to make her husband feel better, and maybe more for her own self, too.

Later on, she kept Dr. Sara’s contact number for her own future reference. One day he’d love to know, he had another baby girl, too.

That’s the thing about women.

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