charlottys

There is no tired like new-mother, rock-breasted, bleeding, brand-new mother exhausted.   Sleep a while; please sleep a while. I tuck your arms into soft fleece, mark the 'O' of your tiny mouth as I do it, crook you in one elbow. We are surely alone, and slip into dreams, you and this woman who is your mother, drowning together in pillows, bed-sheets, down. There is no fear like new-mother, groggy, incision-pain, narcotic-haze, frantic new-mother terror.  Sleep a while; please sleep a while. My heart lurches -- stops -- breaks. I jolt across the bed, scanning your tiny face for breathing signs, a twitch, a sigh.  We are still alone