Inspiration?

[Eliza Hodgkins 1812]

There was a bursting forth of something, too scared was I to give this something a name, but now I have you clean and in my arms, and can see that you are just a babe.

I had walked the room in circles cursing every man I had ever known and I sat back on my haunches moaning my own mother’s name. Amelia, Amelia, Amelia, I prayed and prayed and prayed. At first there was an alien liquid seeped out of me in a sputtering gush like a dropped bucket. I thought it would be more like ringing out the laundry before sticking it up on the line, and so I was scared. Our family was small and secluded, always, and I was the first with child being the only girl. Mother died long ago or else she might have told me.

When the pain began, I was glad to be so alone here in the woods. Here has been my home since I was a girl. I always hated for anyone to hear me scream. There is nothing I hate so much as spectacle.

I walked the room in diagonals next, the circles making me dizzy. I thought about the wrong I had done, and figured my agony was penance owed. I would ask for forgiveness but you cannot be a beggar at death’s door.

Four months with child when the mine collapsed. My dresses had been Mother’s and were too large; they hid you well. My father and brothers were buried without ceremony or witness.

Charles was a lovely boy with money who liked my soft curls and freckles. He kissed my thighs and tickled my feet, and there were many times we met together in secret before you began to grow inside of me. Charles promised love but could not promise a wedding ceremony. My family was buried and I would be alone in this world with you to care for. The sky was black with a new moon the last night I held my Charlie. At my request he laid down on his stomach and I crushed a piece of broken masonry into his skull. Death came upon him in an instant. I could not even hear his final breath.

I am small girl but a strong one. I dragged your father up and over into the well and no one came looking for him. We had been so careful and undiscovered in our love.

You were born with a caul still upon your head. If we lived by the sea, I could have used it to make an amulet to sell to a sailor. Then, perhaps, we would have had food to eat. But we are too far from the sea, William. Too far from anything good. I buried the good luck charm in the wood before we came to meet your father. We want to sink. We want to sink. We want to sink.

I was a child before you were born, William and now I am a woman fully grown, though I am still young. Let the world, and not us, grow old. Soon we will be a family again. You are so good and lovely, and I promise that will never change. We just have to sink. Let us sink. Stop your cries and let us sink. Hush your cries so we can sleep.