Short Story: The Blues

Uzma Khan narrates a poignant tale that shows a different side of motherhood, where the joy is lost in the chaotic desire for a male heir.

Twelve hours of labour pain didn’t feel like the perfect payoff for a tiny human that came out of her, which everyone made it sound like. Sweat beads on her forehead aside and ignoring the bloodbath that soaked spreads of old bedsheets, she awaited the cry of blessings. Within minutes of delivering the infant, a shrill cry echoed in the room. The midwife took the baby away to clean.

“It’s a boy!” The midwife proclaimed, and the entire house erupted in joy.

She heard a reverberation of the ongoing celebration with droopy eyes. Exhaustion slowly spread across her body. The pain began to subside as her body started to repair the damage of the nine months, preparing to nurture the procreation for the next few years. Between the flicker of her closing eyes, she saw her little girl standing at the door of the room. She forced a smile on her face to assure her of her well-being.