Post by Renn on Jan 7, 2006 13:47:26 GMT -5
[glow=purple,2,300]I was born at 6:23am on 15th November 1990. My weight was six pounds 10ounces. My family loved me, my Mother could not bear to part from me, I would stay in a small cot at the bottom of her bed and she would sit there, watching me, often picking me up for a cuddle or a feed. A few days afterwards, my Mother brought me home. By that time, s few wisps of auburn hair covered my scalp and my eyes were open, storm grey and sheltered by curtains of long eye lashes, my Father’s eyes. I was similar to my Father, same birth weight, same month of birth, same eyes, everywhere there were traces of my Father in me. I had my Mother’s gender, her nose and lips, and the same habit of crying every night until the family wanted to chuck me out the window.
I had older siblings, a brother and a sister, Jesse and Gabrielle. Jesse was five and Gabrielle was four. I also had an even older sister, Lorraine, who was nine and having a sleepover at her friend, Julia’s, when I was born. My family visited me a lot, but the first time it was just Dad. He smiled at me, smiled with more than just his mouth, his face lit up and his eyes twinkle grey as he swept Mother into a passionate kiss. Then he picked me up, gently carrying me round to the head of the bed where Mother was waiting.
“What shall we call her?” He asked. I was used to the soft loving voice of my Mother and the other women holding their babies, and his rough voice was strange yet soothing to my inexperienced ears.
“I like Catharina, you know, the wife of Vermeer?”
“No,” Dad was shaking his head, black hair bouncing. “I like it, but she doesn’t look like a Catharina.”
“Catherine, then?”
“Still not really her…how about Caiman?” It was a strange name, one that sounded like a small crocodile-like reptile that lived in the Amazon, but it was a nice name. I kicked up my legs and laughed.
“Yes, my little Caiman,” Mother reached up and took me from Dad, holding her close to me. Dad smiled, and left.
The second time someone visited me, it was my Mother’s sister, my Aunt. She looked very much like my Mother, the same cornflower blue eyes and yellow-blonde hair like honey dribbled onto buttercup. She smiled and picked me up, careful to avoid scratching me with her long painted nails.
“She’s beautiful, Elizabeth,” Her voice was like a melody, more experienced than my Mother’s and the other women in the ward. “Caiman suits her.”
“I love her so much, Isobel,”
“I know you do,” My Aunt laughed, a beautiful sound that made the other women look up and smile. Mother reached up and took me again, holding me near her chest. I latched on and began to feed.
“Are you gonna let Mother visit?” Aunt Isobel’s voice was hesitant as if Mother would explode any moment.
“No,” Mother’s arms were stiff. I sensed the change and began to cry, soft whimpering noises. Instantly, Mother whipped me off her breast and cuddled me, holding me close and making shushing noises. Isobel was fiddling with her handbag, pulling the popper that held it together apart as she opened it. I watched her beige hand reach into the bag and pull out a slip of paper, with some sort of image on it. My vision was cloudy as I was newborn, but when Isobel held it out for Mother, I felt her shrink away from the photo, tilting me in an odd position.
“Lizzie…?”
“Put that away, Iz,” Mother was annoyed, tilting me almost upside down. I began to wail, lines of warm water pouring down my face. I stuck out my tongue and experimented with the taste, licking one line. It was salty, different from milk, but nice and yummy. Instantly, Mother corrected how she was holding me and began to rock me from side to side, a small bundle of white cloth with a pink face. Aunt Isobel did as told and dropped the paper back into her handbag, her face pale as Mother’s.
“Hello my little baby, my little one…” Mother cooed, avoiding Isobel’s searching eyes.
“Ga?” That was me! Where had that come from? I opened my mouth and did it again. “Ga!”
“She really is beautiful, Elizabeth, but I must be getting back, I have a case to get to,” By the time she had finished that sentence, Aunt Isobel was halfway down the ward, and still walking to the exit, her hands shaking.
My eyes opened to a big smile. Looking down on me was a friendly face of a boy, his hair curly and long around his ears as he continued to smile. He had bright grey eyes mirroring my own, full of happiness as he gazed at his little sister. He smiled again, a wide toothy smile that scared me not a bit.
“Ga?”
“Hello Caiman,” The voice was coming from the boy. Unfortunately, his head was close to my ear and was a bit too loud, however I ignored that fact and concentrated on his friendly features.
“Let me have a look, Jesse!” The voice was insistent and Jesse was shoved aside, the face replacing his was beautiful, lovely formed cheekbones and dark brown eyes, long lashes tickling my cheek as she leant forward.
“Not to close, Gabi,” Daddy!
“But Dad, I want to hold her,” It was my sister, whining already.
“I’m sorry, Sugar, but your too little.” It was Dad again, his voice firm as he admonished Gabrielle. The face before me scowled and moved away, replaced by another lovely face, pretty with grey eyes like Jesse, Dad and I.
“Hello, Caiman, I’m Lorraine,” It was odd, my oldest sister introducing herself to me, but I enjoyed the attention none the less. Her long black hair was soft as it tickled my chin and nose, so much that I sneezed, expelling sticky greeny-yellow stuff. Lorraine leapt back, a small tendril of curly black hair slimy.
Dad stepped closer to her and quickly rubbed it off with a tissue, murmuring to her quietly as he crouched down beside her. His own locks were tufty, as if he had tossed and turned all night. I thought they were cute, but surprisingly, Mother seemed annoyed by how unkempt he was. I could feel her arms tightening around me and the way her jaw was clenching and unclenching.
Sensing her anger, and the confusion of meeting so many people at once, I began to whimper, feeling the salty water bubbling in my eyes. The people hovering around me closed their mouths and said nothing as I grizzled, eventually breaking into loud wails.
“Dad, why’s she making that noise?” Jesse asked.
“Caiman is hungry, and your Mother is exhausted, we’re going back home,” Dad put his arms around Lorraine, Jesse and Gabrielle, pushing them to the exit. I could feel Mother leaning forward as she watched them leave, her gown slipping down. I quickly latched on before Mother could cover herself up, and she relaxed beneath me, allowing me my feed.
A shadow fell over the bed, but I ignored it, sucking out the warm milk. Mother tensed beneath me, slowing the flow as she stared in horror at the person standing above us.
“Oh God, not you.”
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I had older siblings, a brother and a sister, Jesse and Gabrielle. Jesse was five and Gabrielle was four. I also had an even older sister, Lorraine, who was nine and having a sleepover at her friend, Julia’s, when I was born. My family visited me a lot, but the first time it was just Dad. He smiled at me, smiled with more than just his mouth, his face lit up and his eyes twinkle grey as he swept Mother into a passionate kiss. Then he picked me up, gently carrying me round to the head of the bed where Mother was waiting.
“What shall we call her?” He asked. I was used to the soft loving voice of my Mother and the other women holding their babies, and his rough voice was strange yet soothing to my inexperienced ears.
“I like Catharina, you know, the wife of Vermeer?”
“No,” Dad was shaking his head, black hair bouncing. “I like it, but she doesn’t look like a Catharina.”
“Catherine, then?”
“Still not really her…how about Caiman?” It was a strange name, one that sounded like a small crocodile-like reptile that lived in the Amazon, but it was a nice name. I kicked up my legs and laughed.
“Yes, my little Caiman,” Mother reached up and took me from Dad, holding her close to me. Dad smiled, and left.
The second time someone visited me, it was my Mother’s sister, my Aunt. She looked very much like my Mother, the same cornflower blue eyes and yellow-blonde hair like honey dribbled onto buttercup. She smiled and picked me up, careful to avoid scratching me with her long painted nails.
“She’s beautiful, Elizabeth,” Her voice was like a melody, more experienced than my Mother’s and the other women in the ward. “Caiman suits her.”
“I love her so much, Isobel,”
“I know you do,” My Aunt laughed, a beautiful sound that made the other women look up and smile. Mother reached up and took me again, holding me near her chest. I latched on and began to feed.
“Are you gonna let Mother visit?” Aunt Isobel’s voice was hesitant as if Mother would explode any moment.
“No,” Mother’s arms were stiff. I sensed the change and began to cry, soft whimpering noises. Instantly, Mother whipped me off her breast and cuddled me, holding me close and making shushing noises. Isobel was fiddling with her handbag, pulling the popper that held it together apart as she opened it. I watched her beige hand reach into the bag and pull out a slip of paper, with some sort of image on it. My vision was cloudy as I was newborn, but when Isobel held it out for Mother, I felt her shrink away from the photo, tilting me in an odd position.
“Lizzie…?”
“Put that away, Iz,” Mother was annoyed, tilting me almost upside down. I began to wail, lines of warm water pouring down my face. I stuck out my tongue and experimented with the taste, licking one line. It was salty, different from milk, but nice and yummy. Instantly, Mother corrected how she was holding me and began to rock me from side to side, a small bundle of white cloth with a pink face. Aunt Isobel did as told and dropped the paper back into her handbag, her face pale as Mother’s.
“Hello my little baby, my little one…” Mother cooed, avoiding Isobel’s searching eyes.
“Ga?” That was me! Where had that come from? I opened my mouth and did it again. “Ga!”
“She really is beautiful, Elizabeth, but I must be getting back, I have a case to get to,” By the time she had finished that sentence, Aunt Isobel was halfway down the ward, and still walking to the exit, her hands shaking.
*
My eyes opened to a big smile. Looking down on me was a friendly face of a boy, his hair curly and long around his ears as he continued to smile. He had bright grey eyes mirroring my own, full of happiness as he gazed at his little sister. He smiled again, a wide toothy smile that scared me not a bit.
“Ga?”
“Hello Caiman,” The voice was coming from the boy. Unfortunately, his head was close to my ear and was a bit too loud, however I ignored that fact and concentrated on his friendly features.
“Let me have a look, Jesse!” The voice was insistent and Jesse was shoved aside, the face replacing his was beautiful, lovely formed cheekbones and dark brown eyes, long lashes tickling my cheek as she leant forward.
“Not to close, Gabi,” Daddy!
“But Dad, I want to hold her,” It was my sister, whining already.
“I’m sorry, Sugar, but your too little.” It was Dad again, his voice firm as he admonished Gabrielle. The face before me scowled and moved away, replaced by another lovely face, pretty with grey eyes like Jesse, Dad and I.
“Hello, Caiman, I’m Lorraine,” It was odd, my oldest sister introducing herself to me, but I enjoyed the attention none the less. Her long black hair was soft as it tickled my chin and nose, so much that I sneezed, expelling sticky greeny-yellow stuff. Lorraine leapt back, a small tendril of curly black hair slimy.
Dad stepped closer to her and quickly rubbed it off with a tissue, murmuring to her quietly as he crouched down beside her. His own locks were tufty, as if he had tossed and turned all night. I thought they were cute, but surprisingly, Mother seemed annoyed by how unkempt he was. I could feel her arms tightening around me and the way her jaw was clenching and unclenching.
Sensing her anger, and the confusion of meeting so many people at once, I began to whimper, feeling the salty water bubbling in my eyes. The people hovering around me closed their mouths and said nothing as I grizzled, eventually breaking into loud wails.
“Dad, why’s she making that noise?” Jesse asked.
“Caiman is hungry, and your Mother is exhausted, we’re going back home,” Dad put his arms around Lorraine, Jesse and Gabrielle, pushing them to the exit. I could feel Mother leaning forward as she watched them leave, her gown slipping down. I quickly latched on before Mother could cover herself up, and she relaxed beneath me, allowing me my feed.
A shadow fell over the bed, but I ignored it, sucking out the warm milk. Mother tensed beneath me, slowing the flow as she stared in horror at the person standing above us.
“Oh God, not you.”
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