A Goodbye

 

It was just a wee accident; mum will get it. I sob. 

Mum will get it. It was just a wee accident my darling. Don’t you worry. I will get you clean in no time. 

I repeat it as a reassurance.

Wet wipes clean the urine, and gentle towelling dries it up.

I clean her, knowing she is dead but playing pretend to self soothe. 

She has been lain flat on a table for me. Flat and lifeless yet still warm and malleable.  

I make sure she looks comfortable on her blanket then swaddle her and hold her close to me. For some reason she feels heavier in my arms than ever before. Heavier than when there was breath in her. Heavier than when her little heart was beating. I begin to sob again. Then I think I feel her stir. 

A breath?

No. 

It is just a shift in the blanket, caused by a catch in the table leg.

Tears roll and I sniff and gulp uncontrollably.

I know her body will become stiff and cold. Someone will come and take her from me before that happens. They will remove her from my arms, and I will lose her.

It is then my arms will be empty. 

My heart will feel empty. 

From then on, I shall go home to an empty house.

An empty house that will surround an empty life. 

An empty life that will transport an empty body. 

An empty body that will grieve for an unfulfilled maternal longing. 

An empty womb mourning empty breasts. 

A pure hollow emptiness.

~

Oh, my darling, I weep.

I kiss her fur. 

You were the best child I never had.