Tuesday, November 3, 2009

"Engorged" up at Literary Mama

I had to add this pregnancy photograph (taken by Robyn Beattie) to balance out the feral poem Engorged up at Literary Mama this week; the poem was written on behalf of anyone who has ever been there...and for those husbands, partners, and family members coaxing new or seasoned moms through the pain of such nursing. For me, it was the third child that brought on the condition, a shocker, after thinking I was a pro. Thank God for that British nurse: bless you, where-ever you are.

Further reading:

Just started Jayne Anne Phillips novel Motherkind; the main character is heading towards mastitis as we speak...


and once again, Robyn's portfolio can be viewed at www.robynbeattie.com

and Literary Mama's website: www.literarymama.com

6 comments:

Liz Brennan said...

Your poem captures the experience in a unique way with a profound and penetrating use of language. I especially love the long sentence that begins at "the toothless gums" and ends at "but cannot reach", the "turn turns" "you you" and "furred with gobs of plum".

Tania Pryputniewicz said...

Thanks Liz...I know it doesn't paint a pretty picture and I wouldn't trade having nursed the kids for anything, but what a state to endure.

The Blue Suitcase said...

Tania, what a turgid poem, so perfectly, painfully wrought! I'm enjoying looking through your blog. Thinking you might already know Kate Hopper's blog Mother Words: Mothers Who Write, but if not, there's a recommendation for you! (It's on my blogroll at The Blue Suitcase.) Glad to have found your work!

Ethel Rohan said...

Congratulations on this, Tania. It's been a little over five years since I've nursed, and over six since I had mastitis and I still relived that pain when reading this.

I remember all too well the icy-cold cabbage leaves, their aid and their stink, and how I'd cry right before feeding, bracing myself for that pain, and crying out when my daughter latched on. And I'm not the type to "cry out," believe me.

Forgive my whining, all that aside, this poem is so well done No you don't paint a pretty picture, but a true one, and I applaud you for that. Despite the pain and blood and fear and resistance, there's also that beautiful, powerful closing image of the cabbage and the mother and the baby: interconnected LIFE. So well done.

Tania Pryputniewicz said...

Bonnie,

thanks for the tip--I'll check out Kate Hopper. Just back from Kansas City--missed my 6 a.m. flight out--could stand to have some of your travel savvy!! Even so, it gave me a bit of the travel bug. Thanks for stopping by here.

Tania Pryputniewicz said...

Thanks Ethel...I'm afraid cabbage is around to stay, with my Polish/Russian heritage. Ever had "gwumpki?" I'm sure I'm not even spelling it right. Oh well...
Thanks Ethel...