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I will greatly multiply your sorrow and your conception;
In pain you shall bring forth children
-Genesis 3:16.
She didn't remember how she got there, the last memory she had was of a busy blurry club that had so many lights that her head hurted. The walls were a light shade of mint now, the muffled sound of people talking near her and tons of pain. A lady was telling her to push, she saw blood and a little crucifix in front of her and then numbness.
In that moment Mia blessed medicine and whoever created the epidural.
There was silence and then crying, a baby crying, her baby crying, Italia was born on the 26th of May at 3 a.m, Gemini and a healthy 2,5 kg baby and Mia didn’t feel absolutely nothing about her.
She was tired, sweating and the only thing she wanted was a good night of sleep. The nurses took Italia and put it, put her , on a table for quick check ups and washing all the blood they could and then the little thing was on her chest.
She was hot, burning hot. It’s the only thing she could remember from the chaos of the night. Mia only memories of that event were the burning feeling this little body left on her chest and her big dark eyes that stared at her.
Her mom always told her how babies smelled nice, they smell sweet and clean she used to say but Mia couldn’t smell anything, couldn’t feel anything.
“i don’t want it” her voice a soft whisper nobody caught and the baby was off her as quicky as she was put on her.
Italia was brought to another room for check ups and a better wash up while Mia found herself alone in another room. If Paolo were there with her he would have been crying by now, holding little Italia in his arms, afraid to break her and with adoration in his eyes. But she was alone with the only company of a small crucifix. She didn’t think hospitals had those and it reminded her of her childhood bedroom in Calabria, how she used to fall asleep staring at the nativity painting she had on her bed, feeling angry and jealous because she also wished to be held like that by her mother.
A nurse arrived, she was short, angry face and white hair and she was with an equally old doctor. They came for check ups, they said, to see if everything was ok with her body or if she needed stitches somewhere and to remove her placenta.
That was the worst part, she was being squeezed, rearranged, her organs were put back to place and organized. She felt alone, no hand to squeeze, no one that would pet her hair and tell her she did good.
“Next time deliver the baby yourself”
Italia was back on her, hot like before. She had blondish hair and her eyes were closed and Mia felt like crying.
She didn’t feel the bond or whatever that was, no connection, it was a stranger on her body that she had to call daughter. She wasn’t the most beautiful of babies, she was a normal baby in her eyes, nothing that made her better, nothing that made her special .
“i don’t want it”
“ma’am you are probably tired or con-”
“i don’t want it, i don’t..want this child i can’t” why can’t they understand, that thing, her daughter , shouldn’t be with her. She wasn’t fit to be a mother, she wasn’t meant to be a mother or a daughter or a child.
Was that the only purpose of womanhood? Motherhood? If you can't fulfill that can you be considered a woman? Was she doomed to be stripped of everything and only be seen as a mother as a woman? not a person but a purpose?
And Mia couldn’t do that, she couldn't be a mother, and if a mother can’t be a mother can she be considered a woman? If the answer was no then Mia wouldn’t mind not being one not like she ever fit in that definition either way.
She had time to think about it, 48 hours to be exact but she didn’t need them. Paolo was listed as the father and he would come running as soon as he would hear the news and he would love Italia more than she ever could. Paolo would give her the best life, he would raise her well and just be the perfect parent. She couldn’t, she couldn’t do that, she didn’t want to do that. She wasn’t stable, didn’t have a house, didn't have a job, didn’t have a family.
So 3 days after that she left, leaving Italia behind. Her chest was still hot, she could still feel her weight on her breasts, her thin hair brushing her chin, her little hand closing on her finger. But she didn’t look back, she stepped out of the hospital without looking back once.
Was that a selfish decision? Leaving her daughter behind? But after all, isn’t the act of childbirth selfish itself?
Was it more selfish to stay knowing she couldn’t take care of her or leaving, putting her independence before her child?
The days after the birth were a blur, she went to a club to drink and spoke to a nice woman with dark curly hair that rubbed her thumb on Mia’s hand and offered her a place to stay. She was tall and warm, she gently guided her outside the club and Mia felt like breathing again for the first time in a while. She was drunk, very drunk and the gentle lady spent the night holding her hair back while she was emptying her stomach in the toilet. Mia felt taken care of for the first time after Paolo. Paolo, he probably went to the hospital already, he was probably holding Italia and he probably stroked her small soft cheeks with care. She tried not to think too much about it, about them, about Paolo making himself small to hold Italia.
She woke up in a white bedroom, with a big wardrobe made of dark wood. The wall was empty, no photos and no paintings except a small one that depicted the virgin Mary with baby Jesus.
She got up, wandering around the house. It was messy and big, the lady absolutely didn’t live there alone by the amount of doors there were in the building. There were child drawings hanging on the wall, pictures of various people and toys scattered around the allway. The windows were open and she could hear children playing outside while the smell of coffee could be smelled in the air.
When she went to the kitchen she saw the nice woman from last night, except the fact that her memory was foggy and the bar was dark so she didn't really see her, not this well.
She was tall with an undercut and fluffy dark hair on top, her back looked strong but soft and her shirt showed off her arms, the same arms that held her in the club the day prior.
"Oh! Hi good morning, well..afternoon. It’s almost 2. Slept well? Are you hungry?”
She had big dark eyes that looked gentle and she was smiling at her softly.
“oh! Oh! How rude of me, sorry. I’m Anna. We met yesterday at a club and i asked you if you wanted to come with me since u didn’t have a house to go”
“thank you. I’m Mia..by the way”
“You told me yesterday! Want some coffee? the girls left some pasta if you want it”
“yes, thank you...to both of them”
Anna smiled kindy
“where...am i exactly?”
“Oh right, right , sorry. It’s sort of like a community house. We mainly house women that struggle with addiction and young mothers and we help them get back on their feet. We offer a support system”
Mia flinched, young mothers. Could she be considered a young mother? a mother in general? She deserted, she ran away like a coward for the second time, putting all the pressure on Paolo’s shoulders.
She cleared her throat.
“uh w-what you do here?”
“I deal with kids! I teach them how to play football and I occasionally organize art classes. I love kids and I get to help mothers that have to work so it’s great. Do you like the pasta?”
“uh yea”
“We make the tomato sauce ourselves with our tomatoes. The kids take care of the vegetable patch. Debora made the sauce, i swear to god her c- Oh hi Stella”
A little girl with long pigtails was hiding behind the door frame, she was staring at Mia, her hair to be precise. When Anna called her name she looked up.
“Anna i have a bua”
“A bua? Where honey”
“on the knee! We were playing guards and thieves and Filippo grabbed me and i, i fell to the ground and I was like Pam and then then i, I didn’t cry tho! Like a big girl I didn't cry and then I wanted the magic potion!”
Mia stared at the scene, Anna was at eye level with the little girl and she seemed like she was listening carefully. Her big hand started caressing the blond hair gently and Mia craved that contact.
Mia knew she was attracted to women, always knew. She had her first crushes in middle school like every kid, quick stories with both men and women. Not stable enough to have a long story, she had a girlfriend for a while, the longest story she ever had. She was short, short curly hair dyed green and she was with her for the entirety of highschool. After that she only had short stories, the band and then Paolo. If she could consider Paolo and what they had a relationship.
“Mia!” a warm voice brought her back from her thoughts, she always managed to get into her head when it was about Paolo
“Uh! yea? sorry”
“You ok?”
“yes yes sorry just..yea”
“ok..i’ll take Stella to the bathroom to clean the blood and put on some bandaids. Can you wait for me here?”
“yes yes of course”
Anna smiled again and then picked up the little girl with ease. It was weird, Anna was big and tall, with a muscular figure and strong arms and the girl looked small in her arms. Anna was kissing her forehead, gently petting her head and reassuring the little girl and Mia felt like crying.
She could have had that, all of that. Why couldn’t she feel anything when she held her daughter, why didn’t she feel the so-called maternal bond. Why couldn’t she be a normal mother?
But maybe she could be stable, if not for her child, for herself. She could stop drinking, be clean and find a stable job. Start a new life and maybe, one day, reunite with Italia. She was gonna be fine with Paolo, she was gonna have a nice life while Mia was gonna work hard for hers and maybe they could be a family after.
The plan was to go somewhere else, move around from house to house but maybe she could stay, it felt safe here, it felt like a good place to start.
“Sorry it took a while, Stella k-”
“i wanna stay here”
“what?”
“I wanna..i wanna stay here. I wanna join this community or something i just..please”
“i..uh sure! yes sure”
“Can I ask one more thing?”
“oh yeah sure”
“Have you ever cut someone’s hair?”