The gown was open down my back. I was numb from my waist down. I was sitting in blood. My body was at its weakest for sure. There were probably 7 machines around me with lights and noises, a few tubes protruding from here and there. A catheter. My hair was in loose, ratty braids. No make-up. My socks smelled and I had been awake for 20 hours with no food other than clear liquids.
When I held my son I everything changed around me. My gown was mantle of honor laid upon me. My body, though weak and numb, was both a womb and a tomb…ushering in new life…twice! The blood reminded me of the cost of loving another. The machines showed the difficult path I had taken to receive such joy. My hair shown of brilliance and beauty; when I braided it that morning I had thought of Jonan, only a child, and I wanted to welcome him with a childlike heart. My paint-less face was a reminder of the purity of that which I held in my arms. My hunger was filled with love. And I was a queen.