Wonder Child

Warm callused fingers lightly touched the back of her neck just below the nape. His hands moved in absent minded caress. Words quiet to fit his unassuming ways. “Okay love the car is packed I remembered to take a pillow. It's time to go.

Almond shaped Hazel green eyes of hers saw the second hand on the clock go tick tick.

Seconds felt like hours when her breath felt stuck caught in her throat. Time was surreal - it seemed frozen, while rudely marching on. Racing her to an unwanted finish line that was premature on the horizon.

Tick Tick Tick.

Practicalities. Like one breath at a time, one step at a time, one minute at a time. The days could look after themselves. She just knows it was today.

Flat warm hand on her shoulder now, another seeking hers.

Subconscious actions of muscles responding, standing one minute here. Listening to the tick-tick of a life a love so deeply held.

Fragile gossamer strands of the reality; almost still her feet.

Then, there in the car, clink-clunk of the belt engine engaged.

Traffic lights, roundabouts and redirection.

Arrived. Navigating the maze of corridors.

Shown to the room all clean, bright stark white, the blankets daffodil yellow.

Her and Him.

Night gown, robe, slippers and socks, fresh set of clothes, bottle of water, bag of sugar barley candy, pack of half eaten mints. Her own towel and wash cloth bought new, still fluffy and soft, white edged with royal blue. A sharp tug and the plastic tag snaps. The price $12.50.

Bargain.

CD Walkman and two discs grabbed from the top of the pile as an after thought on the way to the vestibule.

Laid with in arms reach for when the distraction needed.

Bag stowed.

Pillow plumbed and fluffed, the purple Egyptian cotton case a clash with the minimalist décor.

But then trolleys of obstetrics is hardly featured in home and gardens as Nouveau riche.

A flurry of activity interrupts. wrist bands on and history taken.

Kindly faces reconfirming the findings. Nodding.

Yes. 28 Weeks. Scan showed no beat.

Nodding perfunctory, at the questions from kindly lips. Experienced hands professional touching.

Now we just need to give you this, then your family can come in.

Small talk - a litany of pleasantries exchanged about how long the drive was. And yes the weather was fine. No major road works. Mmm yes.

Tea, coffee, water. Anyone?

The four parents look to each other then to her then to him.

Small talk the cadence.

The second time they have met; the first four years ago at the wedding. Now here.

Magazines bought from the gift shop, pages curled as others have held them, maybe trying to chose reading material that conveys the sentiment 'get well soon'.

Laid in the droplets of water ringed on the table.

Sister mops them up with tissue. Laney petite with strawberry blond hair, looks to Sal and whispers 'it's okay, I am here'.

Jay off to the side plucking at an invisible thread. His blue eyes then fix onto her hazel greens. 'Husband and wife', Sal said, in a breath effused with so much love it hurt.

The ebb and flow from the first warm thrum of a contraction felt in the small of Sal’s back as she cradled the book "Northern Lights" by Richard Pullman.

Gingerly placing it by the hard candies She kisses her mother and says 'It's time'.

Laney and Jay will call you all. Nodding, a silent plea that said 'please don’t cry'.

I need you not to cry.

Careworn eyes puffy and red blink rapidly, as the mother looks to her child all grown up but still her child.

Right the unspoken acknowledgement, a hug, a kiss on the brow, fingers squeezing, thumb pressed, tapped 3 times. 'Let me stay'.

Soft shake of the head. 'After. Come after.'

Thinking 'I don’t want you to see me this way'.

The crushing hug and gruff tones of dad. 'Okay doll, see you later'. Voice breaks and quivers 'Your sister will give us a call'.

Jay having similar exchanges with his.

The clock, moving forward, panted laboured breaths. Counting the ripples of pain as they wash over her frame. Pillows banked, supporting. Breath drawn, mind wanders to the spot on the ceiling.

One pink elephant, two pink elephants, three pink elephants.

Breath gasping as the hot pain radiates.

Four pink elephants, five pink elephants, six pink elephants, puffing and panting.

Seven pink elephants.

Why? She didn’t know.

Pink elephants was the mantra to focus her brain.

Laney brushed her sweat-soaked hair. 'Do you think maybe on the next round they may be blue or green?'. A brief smile between them.

'No, they're pink with tutties on and a flower in their trunk.'

A pause between the urge to push.

Jay runs the cool damp wash-cloth over the nape of her neck. 'Maybe some music now love?' tenderly asked.

Eyes closed, cheeks flushed, she accepts the gift to have a melodic voice in her brain; a balm for her senses.

Disc in, one of the two randomly chosen.

Play pressed. the piano intro and strings swell.

Dulcet Irish tones sing

(Song )

This child he means the world to me
There is no more enchanted
A child can take this place of ruin And magically enhance it
I see him in a golden room With the book of life before him
Strange instruments upon his charts And the crystal glow inside him

Clutching Jay's hand, she takes out an ear bud and gives one to him.

'Listen'.

Sharing now.

(Song)

He's your Wonder Child
And my dreams come true
You've searched all of your life I see him now flying over the universe
This child will build a violin One will follow the traveller’s love
Another will the bow apply To reach the one above


A moment etched in memory, preserved in time; a gift from the angels to them both. They listened to the song, fingers interwoven, both holding on.

Bittersweet melody, a caress from god, if you chose to believe.

(song)

I see her in the golden room With the moon and stars above her
Her simple smile is heaven's gate With the queen of all beside her
She's your Wonder Child And my dreams come true
You've searched all of your life I see her now flying over the universe

Her sister quietly excused herself---

Both unaware.


(song) Your Wonder Child
And my dreams come true
You've searched all of your life I see them now flying over the universe
Your Wonder Child And my dreams come true

You've searched all of your life I see them now flying over the universe

Your wonder child


As the refrain of the song faded, a sob escaped as the harsh pain exhausted her body.

Panicked reality takes hold. 'I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore. Its too soon too soon. I want to keep him cocooned safe. I don’t want to do this yet.'

Laney repairs by her side, the midwife in tow.

Supporting, giving gentle compassionate instruction. 'One more dear One more. You can, it's time. I know you don’t want to but you can. Your body will.'

There was an urge to push, like a runaway locomotive that wont be stopped.

'We are all here'. Soothing words.

Then looking up, seeing the ashen expression lines of worry and grief on Jays face. He being her quiet strength.

She then lent him hers. He looks so fragile and lost.

Voice more composed. 'She says it's okay, love. It's okay, love. You don’t need to stay. Laney is here. She's here.'

'You go on now, love. Won't be long now, love. Laney will come and get you when he's here.'

Jay shakes his head in protest, eyes rimmed red.

She squeezes his hands, and her thumb taps three time. 'It's okay, go'.

Shaky breath, 'thank you. Be with you soon.'

He slips through the door.

Laney counting pink elephants in frilly pink tutties for her.

Midwife practised steady and true to her word.

Her body instinctively doing as its meant.

Small baby boy, two pounds six ounces, born asleep at 22.00hr.

Bathed, dressed with gentle care, both presented. Stark white sheets with lemon blanket.

The smallest of pale blue knitted caps and him swaddled in soft shawl.

Holding out her hand as the door reopens; Jay comes. 'Tell him his name.'

Jay's voice cracks as he says: 'Samuel'.

She places his hand reverently in the bassinet a hairs-breath away.

One fingertip gently brushes five tiny ones

'Samuel, I’m your dad'.

Their child born asleep. Their wonder child.


(song) Wonder Child

This child he means the world to me
There is no more enchanted
A child can take this place of ruin And magically enhance it
(Song recorded and sung by the Irish Folk singer and artist Mary Black