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Sleep Child Sleep A story of Postpartum Depression

Updated on October 10, 2012

Sleep My Child

Sleep my child, I say softly as I kiss your forehead and place you within the pink ruffled bedding. You are so innocent, graceful and pure. I don’t deserve the gift God has given me, just a mere three weeks ago. Your dark brown hair defines the fragile features of your face. Ocean blue eyes that I can escape to islands afar if I gaze too long. Your father would be proud.

Your father…

Your father is a fool to have left us due to your arrival. He told me time and again that he loved me and one day, my precious, he shall love you too. You must be patient my dear child, he will come to his senses. How could he not, my beauty, how could he not.

Look at you, so quietly breathing, barely making a sound.

When I realized you were inside me I was scared. My mother says you are a bastard. That you are a sin. She knows the meaning of sin, my dear, and it is not you. I knew it would be hard, impossible really. Raising you while I am out of work and your Dad so confused about his wants. But here you are, in your bed. Where you belong.

In your bed…so quietly breathing

Barely making a sound.

Labor was horrific. I thought I would die. The screams I could not withhold, the blood, the pain. It was all too much until I heard you cry. As the doctor laid you upon my stomach my heart collapsed. I felt love. For the first time. Love. I saw your tiny porcelain-like face. So Perfect. So beautiful. As you are now.

In your bed…so quietly breathing

Barely making a sound.

Yes, I am young. I am not married. But, my child, I will be a good mother. I promise. I won’t be like her. I won’t allow him to touch you! To rip your inner soul and purpose with his dirty, disgusting penetration of parenthood. I won’t let him! Mother said I provoked him. I didn’t. I swear I didn’t......I didn't.....

And now here you are.

In your bed…so quietly breathing

Barely making a sound.

Look at you. So sweet….So innocent….

Look at you.

So pretty, so perfect…

Look at you....

No tears

No remorse

In your bed…not breathing

Not making a sound.


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