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Pregnancy and Childbirth
Out Of Season
Last week while she was in bed with the first bout of morning sickness, she watched the “Donahue” show. The woman he was interviewing, a fleshy redhead who leaned sensuously toward the camera, had just written The Mistress Book.
September 1991The Myth Of Sexual Liberation
Woman’s current advance in society is not a voyage from myth to truth but from myth to new myth. The rise of rational, technological woman may demand the repression of unpleasant archetypal realities. In its argument with male society, feminism must suppress the monthly evidence of woman’s domination by chthonian nature. Menstruation and childbirth are an affront to beauty and form. In aesthetic terms, they are spectacles of frightful squalor.
August 1990Journey To Juarez
Mary Ann does not see the doctor until she’s on the operating table, knees bent, her feet strapped into stirrups. . . . The doctor does not speak to her, never glances at her face. A girl, twelve or thirteen years old, stands to one side, squeezing Mary Ann’s hand. The girl’s hands are small and quite strong. Mary Ann squeezes back.
July 1990Sexual Responsibility
Calling a live sex line, making her first time be fireworks, loving yourself
July 1990The Black Siamese Twins Meet Queen Victoria
They lived too close for harsh words. It was as if at any given minute a sharp word or careless thought could push them over some terrible edge, tearing them apart.
March 1990The Baby Machine
The next day was Sunday, and after church Peggy was born time after time. “Being born” meant sliding down the trough into the pillow. Magda knew that babies were born with diapers on, so that was how Peggy was dressed.
March 1989The Confession Of Jezrine Beauvais
Yeah, someting unusual hoppened. I had a baby. My first born. An’ I killed it. Now you say you gonna charge me wid a crime. But you see, that baby wasna good ting. It was evil. So you see, I had no choice. It was just the next ting tu do.
January 1989Leaving Home
Opening my legs for her wasn’t easy. / She was hunched and burnt-looking. / Her whole face puckered toward her mouth. / She spoke with words like “dirty shame” / while she gave her absolution — / a small, white cloth inserted / into my womb.
June 1988
