Song

June 2015

In the first week of returning home from the hospital after my second birth, in the midst of little sleep,  and discovering my newfound capabilities of caring for two children;  I was numb. My emotions felt as though they were held hostage: locked away somewhere inside my head. It would take months for me to feel again. The only pain I felt was the physical reminders of a body full of stitches. I could not articulate how I felt about the trauma that just took place and it was unnerving. Songs were the only way I could feel. I clung to those melodies and lyrics as a proverbial life preserver. I would sit on my couch during feedings and listen to music. I played the same three or four songs on repeat, listening to those words that resonated with me. One song in particular that I listened to was "Jerome" by Zella Day. The ending chorus spoke to me: 

"Hold me, I'm not breathing

Hold me, I'm not breathing

Hold me, I'm not breathing

Hold me, I'm not breathing

Hold me, I'm not breathing

  Hold me, I'm not breathing"