A Mother's Promise

Mary was in a dizzy with the equivocal thoughts bombarding her mind: Is the baby okay inside? Will they ever come out? I cannot bear this any more! What will they look like? Oh, I hope you have your father's eyes, the same lovely shade of blue sky stretching over the moor. I am starving. Just a couple minutes to go, hopefully. . . .

. . . and then she heard those three magical words: "Your daughter's here!" She had never felt so appreciative and strong and accomplished all her days. She gave birth. They had created a new life; through hers and Dickon's love they brought forth a whole new human being, a girl who would, in future, have her own notions and perceptions, successes and frustrations, friendships and memories, heartbreaks and disillusions. Mary wished she could forever shield her daughter from pain.

While the plump midwife was busy fixing her up, she was waiting for the sound of her baby. She could not see her yet, for she was delivered and taken away by Susan Sowerby for a bath some metres away from her Birthing chair. So, Mary focused on calming her pounding heart through deep breaths and slow exhales.

And then a cry burst into the air—the cry she had been waiting for all those nine months. Her first cry was sporadic and melodious, like a spring breeze rustling through the trees, rising and falling as she caught her breath and to the sensation of warm water trickling down her body. In the symphony of her daughter's wailing, Mary listened to the impotence of a newborn, a fragile, tiny creature who would now entirely depend on her.

Susan and the midwife gingerly helped her into bed. Susan fluffed the pillows, and Mary reclined back into the plushness. The midwife lifted the swaddled infant out of her cradle by the bed and placed her in her mother's waiting arms. Mother, a word that embodied protection, tender care and perfection; a word that, for Mary, held the power of the universe and the beauty of her Secret Garden.

Her baby had just crossed the threshold, and she had become a mother.

Susan leaned down to plant a kiss on her granddaughter's forehead, then she stroked her daughter-in-law's sweaty cheek. "Thank thee," she whispered to her. Mary nodded with a watery smile, and watched as the two older women left the bedroom, the door closing behind them.

A sweet coo drew her eyes downward and her chest swelled in such happiness that it ached. She took in her baby's button nose, perked up like her father's, slightly pouted lips, curious-brimming brown eyes set in a lovable, cherubic pink face. Mary cried, as only a mother does when cradling her firstborn.

"I love you so, I always shall," she crooned, twisting a ruddy curl at her nap around a finger. "I won't ever abandon you. . . as my own mother had." Her voice cracked. "You are adorable now and you shall grow up into a beautiful woman but I do not care if you didn't, I wouldn't love you any less." While she spoke, she unlaced her top and guided the fretful baby to a breast, who fastened her tiny mouth around it and suckled eagerly. "There, my sweet. I know I am not perfect. I make mistakes and forgot things, but I promise you I shall give you my all and all I can hope is that every day you know that you are the greatest light in my life. I promise, I promise," Mary concluded in a fervent whisper and a quavering, tearful exhale.

"Mary," at the sound of her husband's quiet voice, she raised her head to see his around the door. A broad smile dazzled her face, and she beckoned him inside. He closed the door and walked toward the bed as softly as though he was approaching an wounded or frightened wild animal. They kissed before he kneeled at her bedside. "How art tha' feelin', love?"

"Exhausted and quite joyful. Meet your daughter, Dickon." Her heart skipped a beat, his daughter, their little girl.

The father looked down at his contently nursing baby, rapt. His eyes glistened as he met his wife's gaze, and they smiled over their precious bundle. "We made somethin' priceless, eh?" he said thickly, earning a heartfelt nod. He took one of her tiny hands in his, caressing the smooth skin with his thumb. "Welcome to th' world, Flora. Tha' have some animal friends that'll be pleased to meet thee."