Barbara Myers wrote this story as a member of Deborah Shepard’s Life Writing course at Auckland University. Barbara is an academic and has three adult children living in various parts of New Zealand.
I leaned against the doorway and stared across the room. There he was, far away in the corner. I waited and watched. The nurse looked up from her station, smiled and beckoned me. I moved slowly towards the little glass box taking in, with each step, the long, lean baby body lying under the sterile lights, silent, naked and alone.
I wanted to cover him, scoop him up in my arms and hold him close. Hurriedly I squeezed past the locker and around the medical paraphernalia, taking in all of him for the first time. I gasped, and gazed down at this ‘biggles’ baby, as covering his eyes were the smallest pair of sun goggles in the world.
He stirred. I stifled my sniffles and blinked through the tears. And knowing him as I do now, I swear he looked at me and whispered…
“Wasup….chill mumsy….it’s all gud.”
Please submit your story via the Contact page and it will receive a gentle edit from Deborah.