Neda began reading materials about child birth that Maryam, her cousin, had found them for her. The first thing she read after learning how a woman would get pregnant, was about child birth. "Something like death that would take place in gloominess with no solid ground under feet, without any view, without any onlookers, without commotion, with no distinction, without wanting triumph, without the unbelievable solicitude of death, without believing your own honor, and less right of your enemy!" Actually this was not the exact words that she read, but these were the way she translated those words.
She sighed. Was she reading a manual or a sad novel? Was she reading about birth or death? If all these comparisons of child birth to death were real, then to Neda, life was a greater puzzle than death from what she had told, read, known, and learned so far. This pregnancy had been like a long road that kept going without an end, kept stretching without an exit, just like her life, just like her dreams!
Spring used to be her favorite season when she saw the leaves coming to life after a long winter drowsiness and hibernation, when the trees would bloom with blossoms and the grass would turn light green. Winter was not far from ending; actually it was far from ending, yet it had not ended. Waiting for spring made her impatient. She would count days and weeks waiting for spring, the first of Farvardin, the Nou Rouz (New Year). She gazed through window at winter evening of transparent clearness with an innocent young moon above the sky tops. She wanted to to fill up her lungs with the pure luster and not to be communicated a word with anyone, who were clustered around the bed until she was finally alone in her own room.
She remembered the last she had seen Mansour. It was as though the beginning of their courtship. His return to her parent's home, the way he opened the door, drained the home from the flowing sound she had conjured to keep herself company with in this house of terror. In the dark void of her room, glittered with old flashes of light, beneath her eyelids, she felt the tingle of her own hair on her cheek. She welcomed the alien touch on her hair, on her lips; only things to tell her that she was not alone.
With spring nearing, the doctor told her the doctor that she would have the baby in a month. So everyone was preparing the house for the New year. There were backing, shopping, buying presents, and spring cleaning. She could not participate in any of these preparation. She was at home and sick most of the time. She was in pain and miserable. Mother was busy getting the home ready for the Nou Rouz. Dad and Sima acted the way they always did. They thought it was Mehri's job to do everything. Nobody was thinking about Neda. She wanted so much to buy baby clothes; but her mother told her:
"What is the sense? They'll take the baby away from you in the hospital!"
To Be Continued
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