The children of my heart

13 Jun

Last night I finally got around to watching “Children of Men

This movie is loosely based (emphasis on the loose) on the P.D. James book of the same name. I think my view of the movie is biased by the fact that I LOVE the book. It’s just not the same, not by a long shot. I’m not saying it wasn’t a good movie-it just wasn’t the book.

If you haven’t read it, or watched it, the premise is that in 2009, people just stop being able to have babies. For no apparent reason. Then suddenly a pregnant woman, Kia is found, and the main character, Theo, has to protect her.

While I was unimpressed by the movie, I found myself incredibly moved by the scene where Kia has her daughter. She births in a cold, dirty room on a single mattress, with no real help, or knowledge of what to so.

As they are escaping a building later on, and everyone stops the minute the see or hear her little girl, the true sense of miracle comes through. And I cried.

I cried for women who do not see their children, their births as miracles. I cried for a world which has forgotten how beautiful birth is. I cried for a world when children are tossed aside, devalued, left to wither.  I cried for my loss, my inability to love my births and babies, my utter failure at that part of womanhood.

Then the newborn infant screams started. I began to feel like I would burst. The tears fell fast and my anxiety grew-that SOUND! I cannot bear it. Despite the miracle, I wanted to staunch the flow, cover the hole from whence those cries came. I couldn’t bear it-I can’t bear it. I twisted my hands over themselves, and quietly sobbed, my heart aching and my fingers twitching to turn off the sound, if not the movie.

Then it ended, and my heart recovered.

Inside my chest live the children I could not bear, the babies I cannot hear. The places I will never be, the mother I never was. I physically react to the miracle that is life, try to dissolve the fear by focusing on something else, anything else. But the interaction between one person’s miracle, and a clear reminder of one of the worst periods of my life hit me harder than I thought it might, left me quiet and sad.

My heart is bruised by the days I try to forget, days whose sirens are infants, small babies guilty of nothing but arrival. My miracle it seems, is moving, pulling to the side to let them pass.

7 Responses to “The children of my heart”

  1. Jason Dufair June 13, 2007 at 11:53 am #

    Bruised, but not broken, I believe. I think, often, pulling to the side is the wise choice as a parent.

  2. CharmingDriver June 13, 2007 at 12:23 pm #

    We saw that movie WAAAAAAAAAY too soon (after losing Jackson) and I think we would like to see it again on DVD. I’m with you on the baby screaming going right through your skin, UGH.

  3. Jennnifer June 13, 2007 at 2:57 pm #

    I liked the movie. I thought it was rather prophetic.

  4. Schadenfreude June 13, 2007 at 5:05 pm #

    Very moving entry — nuf said.

  5. m June 14, 2007 at 2:07 am #

    “I cried for women who do not see their children, their births as miracles. I cried for a world which has forgotten how beautiful birth is”

    this is so true and so sad and even frightening.

    I have bore children, so my aches aren’t the same as yours but I have ached and cried so badly for a baby that I thought I might die right there in the dark from my pain.

    I wish I could hug you Thordora.

  6. thordora June 14, 2007 at 8:52 am #

    awww.Thank you M. 🙂

    Jennifer-read the book. SOOOOOOOOO much better.

  7. nadina December 22, 2007 at 1:34 pm #

    this is the best movie i’ve ever wached! i’ve cried so much

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