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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1717277-Defeat
Rated: E · Fiction · Emotional · #1717277
The birth of my daughter; the death of myself.
Today, my daughter is born. She is beautiful and young and pure; so innocent that I cannot help myself from crying. Such tiny hands, reaching out for me, demanding my love. I want to hold her, want to kiss her, want to keep her with me for always.
But I can't. There is a man and a woman here; they are ready to become father and mother. They too reach out for me, but demand my child as opposed to my love.
They are nice enough, with a big house and even bigger hearts. However, when I look at them, my mind shouts: "Kidnappers! Thieves! How dare you?"

My insides turn to led as the doctor hands them my baby. My beautiful daughter.
The man and the woman cry, filled will an indescribable amount of joy. I cry, filled with an indescribable amount of pain.
My body aches. I have spent nine months with this wonderful creation, nine months trying to understand the reality that she will not call me Mommy. But reality is blurred right now. All I can see are her blue eyes, entrancing these strangers. These strangers that don't belong here.

I want to rip her out of their arms. She is the only family I have, and they are going to take her away. They are going to steal her, and when they do that, they will be taking my happiness as well. They will be taking my reason to live.
Oh, how I wish I could fight them. I wish I would be strong enough to stop them.

The room is full with nurses and doctors, asking me questions. I cannot reply. Only stare at the strangers, cooing at my daughter.

A voice in my head speaks to me, and through all the inquiries and crying and pain, it is the only thing I can comprehend.
"Do you want to do this?" The voice asks. "No!" I yell back. Will this voice stop those thieves? Will it bring my baby back?
No. There is no reply to my objection. The voice was imagined. All that's left is me and my helplessness.

The man and woman come to me, holding the only one in this world that means something to me. I am hopeful. Perhaps they are returning her to me, prepared to apologize for the confusion.
My hope is shattered. They aren't returning her. They have come to smile, to say thank you, to wave goodbye.

"Quick, stop them!" I tell myself. "Do it before it is too late!"

I can leap out of this hospital bed. I can block the doorway. I can take back my child. I can spend the rest of my life looking after her, loving her. I can. But I don't. I shrivel up into the cold white sheets, numb. Defeated.

They walk out of the hospital room, and with every step they take, my heart grows colder. Though I continue to breathe, I do not feel. I am lifeless without my baby.

Today, my daughter is born. It is also the day I die.
© Copyright 2010 Kayle Nek (klenek at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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