2026

matrescence

matrescence

(noun [U] SOCIAL SCIENCE specialized
UK /mæˈtres.ənts/ US /mæˈtres.ənts/)

the process of becoming a mother

34 years old
16 years of love
one wedding
a husband (a dad really) (best of men)
9 months of pregnancy
5kg of dates
5 antenatal classes
3 months of prenatal yoga
one upside down house (2 bathrooms AND the nursery needed to be perfect - perfect as no doubt would she)
so vastly unprepared, so impossibly ready
£3000+ later

36 hours of labour
pain - indescribable, purposeful, a battleground
gas and air
a wooden comb be brave be strong
a red midwife scarf
6cm (stuck)
broken waters (useless)
hope, and a waiver
a cut, through seven layers - wisdom of
[the blade: skin, subcutaneous tissue, fascia, rectus abdominis muscle, peritoneum, uterus (uterine wall), amniotic sac (fuck me !)
one faithless prayer - at the oldest temple
then: her cry, her voice, her gummy smile, I can’t
hold it ! hold it anymore
the miracle of her: she is an Orphic mystery, a caduceus, a standing stone
3,4kg
53cm
stitch stitch stitch (I lie: just glue)
a mythological birth like Hephaistos, like Dionysos or Athena
like Eve (« the easy way out »)

one warm cup of tea
skin to skin kitten (it is crazy that
[she knows: pure instinct
“you can go home now” (what ?)
one crap wooden chair for the “birth partner” who did not give birth
(the ward is so unkind to fatherhood it unlocks female rage - or is it the heat - the beat - can’t they see he saved my life, can’t they see he is my rock, can’t they hold the other half of me)
colostrum syringes (30)
windows (0)
95 unread messages for your name I did not get to tell
matted hair and a ripped off catheter (what was I even thinking - blood everywhere) (clearly not as cool as in the movies)
a poem about a golden doubloon (an underwater thing that breathes)

9 days of blood-thinning injections - every damn morning: stab jab
one shallow latch, minus 11%
greasy tit cream
I feel somewhat grotesque - powerful, obscene, undone
scary whitenights, blessed nights, solitary nights and [days
stress (is she warm, is she cold, is she fed, is she growing, is she peeing enough ?)
stress (am I enough ?)
obsessed with baby fat like an old fairy tale hag - my body the gingerbread house
her marzipan cheeks
forgot to eat again
I cannot cope with how much she needs me
“establish your supply”
the snore and gargle of the pump - lost at sea
60mL of milk (repeat) (repeat) (repeat)
60mL of tears, of sweat
(I am tired.)
(I love you.)
fear: a long silent scream somewhere between 3 and 4 (AM)
fear is the mindkiller i will allow my fear to pass through me like 10/10 contractions
a bottle of bathwater an attempt to ritually right a wrong (spiritual psychosis)
6 silicone patches
16 disposable underwears + countless pads (you may bleed 6 weeks or 8, like a creature who [cannot be trusted)

a creepily numb scar
a creepily dumb brain
one crippled body - my breasts are the low hanging fruit above the shelf
the indignities of healing: can’t lift can’t stand can’t walk can’t drive can’t laugh can’t sneeze can’t cough can’t wash can’t dress can’t poop can’t cook can’t reach can’t make love just can’t make love just can’t
raw, tender, savage parts of the self, newly activated
bliss
broken sleep
broken heart (matrescence is not for the faint of)

watch the roses dying, the elder tree blooming (also the cat is not being played with)
cards and flowers accumulating on the dirty kitchen table
intrusive thoughts - their unhinged violence: is there something wrong with [me
Mommy Mum Mama Maman
back to work - huge milestone (her and I sleep in the big bed: we miss him)
(it was a bubble of spring I wanted to preserve forever)
cringe coffees with the desperate housewives (at least we are outside)
« it is biologically accurate to say that the egg which eventually grew into you was formed while your mother was still developing inside your grandmother's womb »
why is no one talking about any of this shit

Avalon (The Faery Accord)