Sybil.
My darling daughter. Born at 14:43 on the 23/12/19 after a slow, loving labour. Born in your caul my girl. A rare phenomenon according to data — 1 in 80,000 births. A sign of good luck, power, you my prophetess, so they said in times of Medieval. An omen of greatness and a destination of bright. We named you Sybil. Before the fact. Delighted to learn your birth and name were cohesive, as a Sybil is a prophetess, consulted for their wisdom and vision. Girls who contained spiritual power. You, my little see-er. Presently you seem to know what I need and feel before I do.
Admitted to the birthing suite at approximately 3am on the Sunday night before. This followed a long evening of initially mild contractions. Strange, slimy avocado pasta and a Brewdog ‘Nanny State’ beer, alcohol free — naturally. Crouched over steep stairs. Your Daddy drove me up to the Simpson’s Maternity Unit. 1cm the midwife stated, nonplussed. Home we went. Our lovely, womb like flat in Stockbridge. Enjoyed a further hour of pain before returning back to hospital, desperate this time for admission. 3cm — the midwife — notably more enthused this time — stated, great, we can get you into a birthing unit now.
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Your Daddy delightful on the sounds. Irate and desperate, ‘rainforest ambience’ most suited the tone of the evening. Birdsong has always relaxed me. A ‘Naked’ bar to settle the ketones. Deep lower back rubs, lots of water and a deep, warm pool to rest wearied limbs and jittering bones in. Gas and air kept things psych and light. As dawn, soft morning sprung from night, I requested morphine at 10am as the labour slowed. 6cm now.
Your transition was otherworldy. Screaming, body felt it could break in two. Still under warm water. Moved to squat at the side of the bed, supported by Daddy. There you came. My whole heart. Fierce and fast, skin ripped, tearing, baby girl in her sack. Adorable. An everything. I cried in elation, a Mama now, ‘my baby my baby’. Skin to skin. The cuddled in to Daddy’s arms, whilst I was sewn. Floated, I floated and saw things as they were, but from another plane. You my daughter and he, my man. Ecstasy. Feral with pupils huge and a heart full to burst with joy and love. Then Maimy came to visit, you met her for the first time. Your Miami. I looked at you sleeping, all night long. Unable to switch off. My little cherub laying peace.
We were discharged home on Christmas Eve. More magic. The midwife visited, swooping up the tenement staircase, concrete heart. Me, squiriting colosutrum, you, elf ears, accomplished little feeder, feeding away. Light and easy. Here you are, at home, Mummy and Daddy, we lay you close. Watched and held. Ate pizza. Slept. Love unbound.
