photo by Jane Bell Goldstein
Baby
by Jane Hudson
From the moment she discovered she was pregnant, she doubted she would give birth to an actual human baby. It seemed much too amazing to be true. Surely, it was a fantasy, a fairy tale, perhaps an old wives’ tale. In spite of her doubts, she decided she would play along and, so people wouldn’t think her odd, would say she was looking forward to giving birth to a baby.
So at four months, at five months, and at six months pregnant, she did just that—she told everyone how much she was looking forward to having a baby boy or a baby girl. And when she was seven and eight months pregnant, and she could feel the fetus turning flips and kicking night and day, she remarked to one and all, “I know it’s a boy, because he’s so strong and active,” but she still had very serious doubts that her pregnancy would end in the birth of a real baby.
Something definitely was growing inside her and it was strong and it moved around a lot, keeping her from sleeping soundly at night. If not a human baby, then what was it? She mulled over this question every day and every night.
As her delivery date drew closer, and it was her ninth month, her sleep grew increasingly restless as her dreams became strange and vivid. One night she dreamed she delivered a baby cow, another night a baby elephant. In fact, every night that month in her dreams, she delivered another type of baby animal, but never a real human baby. And in each dream she said to the newborn animal baby, “I love you very much even though you are a baby cow,” “. . . a baby elephant,” “. . . a baby giraffe,” “. . . and I will love you forever.”
Finally, the actual day arrived. She was in labor for ten hours. The birth was imminent. With a huge effort, she gave a final big push. Wonder of wonders, the doctor announced, “It’s a girl,” and handed her the baby. She looked upon the most beautiful wide-eyed, fuzzy-headed, perfect little girl, with round, rosy cheeks, ten little fingers and ten little toes and knew instantly that she loved this baby more than anything in the world, and that she always would.
So this is how it has happened throughout the history of mankind, she thought, thousands of generations reaching across thousands of years to us, here and now—even if we believe that something so magical could never happen to us.
So at four months, at five months, and at six months pregnant, she did just that—she told everyone how much she was looking forward to having a baby boy or a baby girl. And when she was seven and eight months pregnant, and she could feel the fetus turning flips and kicking night and day, she remarked to one and all, “I know it’s a boy, because he’s so strong and active,” but she still had very serious doubts that her pregnancy would end in the birth of a real baby.
Something definitely was growing inside her and it was strong and it moved around a lot, keeping her from sleeping soundly at night. If not a human baby, then what was it? She mulled over this question every day and every night.
As her delivery date drew closer, and it was her ninth month, her sleep grew increasingly restless as her dreams became strange and vivid. One night she dreamed she delivered a baby cow, another night a baby elephant. In fact, every night that month in her dreams, she delivered another type of baby animal, but never a real human baby. And in each dream she said to the newborn animal baby, “I love you very much even though you are a baby cow,” “. . . a baby elephant,” “. . . a baby giraffe,” “. . . and I will love you forever.”
Finally, the actual day arrived. She was in labor for ten hours. The birth was imminent. With a huge effort, she gave a final big push. Wonder of wonders, the doctor announced, “It’s a girl,” and handed her the baby. She looked upon the most beautiful wide-eyed, fuzzy-headed, perfect little girl, with round, rosy cheeks, ten little fingers and ten little toes and knew instantly that she loved this baby more than anything in the world, and that she always would.
So this is how it has happened throughout the history of mankind, she thought, thousands of generations reaching across thousands of years to us, here and now—even if we believe that something so magical could never happen to us.
