Watching the clock

By Deliberately Evolving

Mon, 07 Sep 2015
  • 1371 reads
8 comments
 

 

Sitting on a hard-backed plastic chair
in a circle with other mothers to be;
their husbands smiling 
at their sides, hands clasped,
happy to be there, excited.
Plump and round, 
trying to get comfy,
(Tricky)
waiting for the workshop to begin.
They wrote name tags 
on sticky labels
stuck them to their shirts,
were offered coffee or tea
but she didn't like to say 
until he'd arrived, so declined
and just perched restlessly.
 
Tick tock...
 
She put his name tag beside her
on an empty chair to her left
and smiled at the midwife nervously:
He'll be here soon - my husband. 
He's just running a little late...
but they started without him, 
had a lot to get through,
so she sat watching the clock
anxiously as the course began - 
name tag beside her for company.
They had quizzes and questions,
they did exercises together 
with their partners,
laughing and joking
while she sat alone, 
angry tears in her eyes,
cheeks burning red with shame,
trying to ignore the looks 
of embarrassed pity
(I bet she made him up,
probably one night stand,
why didn't she at least 
bring a friend?)
 
Tick tock.
 
He didn't come, 
though he had promised he would.
It wasn't the first time 
wouldn't be the last time,
the next time...
the hospital, 
new babe in arms.
watching the clock while 
nurses tried to hurry her off.
 
Tick tock.

 

Certificate U
Poem
Other Fiction

Comments

Submitted by VeraClark on

This is so sad! Like repetition of tick to k to show duration of passing time. A night, nine months, a childhood, the absence marked. You conjured up antenatal well with that sticky label and how the gap grew beside you.

 

Submitted by Deliberately Ev... on

Thanks Vera. It's just fiction but it is sad to think of a woman at such a vulnerable time being alone whilst surrounded by happy couples isn't it.

The beat of your heart is the mellifluent rhythm to my soul.

Submitted by VeraClark on

I always tend to use 'you' -  didnt mean you directly.  smiley

 

Submitted by Deliberately Ev... on

That's ok. Just clarifying in case anyone came on and thought my husband stood me up at antenatal classless. Lol.

The beat of your heart is the mellifluent rhythm to my soul.

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

Hi, AE. Nicely told tale again, and making a point. I thought at first it was just a husband being late or unable to make it the once, but by the end it seemed to be making a bigger point.

My memories of such classes, especially going back to my first, when husband weren't expected/particularly encouraged or even able to get away from work for them, is of being asked afterwards by the Health Visitor if my newborn could be brought in for a demonstration bath. As we'd been 'taught' a detailed and exact 'operation' of how to bath a baby by a lady who rather frightened us all at the post-natal home we'd been transferred to, I had got so tense about this  that my son roared as soon as the rather long procedure began and throughout I think. I explained this but was told to bring him anyway. Maybe she thought he'd be fine for her, but I always felt it had been a rather unsettling experience for those Mums-to-be. (I think my mother got me to relax over bathtimes successfully soon!) Rhiannon

 

Submitted by Deliberately Ev... on

It's true. Times have changed a lot. I don't think the feelings that new mothers experience have changed though have they.

The beat of your heart is the mellifluent rhythm to my soul.

Submitted by Tick tock on

Love the build up of tension and the reptition! A bit predictable but otherwise amazing!!!

Submitted by Deliberately Ev... on

Thanks Tick tock. 

The beat of your heart is the mellifluent rhythm to my soul.