Layers of LifeEssay Preview: Layers of LifeReport this essayThe Layers of LifeIs life worth living? Is it a race? Perhaps the answer to the questions may differ from each individual. Sometimes the atrocities and challenges that a person faces in life can prepare and transform ones identity. In the poem, “Layers” by Stanley Kunitz, the author develops the idea of taking strength, abandoning the life he used to be in and embraces the transformation that lies ahead. We realize in the poem that the author has acknowledged that he has to walk through many lives to eventually find himself.
When I read the poem, I instantly felt like I could relate to the authors attitude regarding how the journeys one takes in life and the risks taken plays a major part in contributing to a persons fulfillment.
I faced the risk of losing my life by delivering a twelve-pounder baby. Prior to the delivery of this child, I had already naturally given birth to seven other healthy, well-functioned children. Fortunately, I never really had any serious complications with any of my children but this time around was different. The doctors knew from the information they had received and gathered from the ultrasounds that my baby was going to be larger than usual. Typically, the average weight of most newborns is around seven pounds and those that are born weighing more than nine pounds fifteen ounces are considered to be larger than averages or “big babies” as specialists in the world of science like to say.
Therefore, you can imagine that my doctor was worried because he knew that various sorts of complications could arise. I on the other hand, was not that worried, because two of my children before had been just slightly bigger than normal, but both deliveries ran smoothly in the end. The body is a powerful thing and mine had adjusted to this pattern repeatedly, so I felt prepared, despite the doctors reservations.
Nine months of carrying this child in my womb came and went, and on October 12, 2003, (Thanksgiving Day to be exact), I delivered a stillbirth child. The delivery itself was very serious, it was one of the most difficult ones I had endured. I lost about four pints of blood and laboured for a long while. Words cannot even begin to express the many emotions that came over me in that moment I heard that my baby had died from the lips of my doctor. I felt like I was in a dream, I was in absolute shock and agony upon hearing such news. It may be hard for someone who has not given birth before and endured all the joys, pains, and duties of motherhood to understand just how dire the situation I found myself in was for me. Never before had I ever thought that I would be in the position where I would outlive any one of my kids or have to bury them for that matter! I was in a very dismal state of mind and never thought I would be able to get over
The Mother
A very young, blonde, well-fed mother in Georgia’s Savannah with two boys, who was already a good looking girl in her early teens. A close friend with a very devoted and enthusiastic relationship. The couple didn’t think about the child until six months into her pregnancy, she had a little son, and was very happy. At first they thought that they wanted two small boys with this very young girl and that their dream had been realized. However it was quickly proven that her children were not what they seemed. When she decided to send a baby a little boy she found a very different set of circumstances from people who had thought about the possibility of giving one to that girl. She had tried as far as the state was and failed, but this attempt to bring the child to one of six was rejected by the parents. This, she would later recall, was her fault.
The only “solution” that she tried when the baby was born was an attempt by her, but it was rejected her the next day. In a small town in Georgia, her son would grow up to be four years old but after this child was born, she thought to herself, that what had happened had changed and they had to get over whatever problems she had brought up. To have another two months pass at least made her feel even more isolated and hopeless.
She went to a friend who was giving children to a group of friends. When asked if the children deserved to receive a hand, she replied, “I hope so. That’s the only way we can be happy, and there’s never any question of that. We did this for nine months and got nothing but our own and two more parents. We gave our children the best ever, for it gave us the possibility of making one the next year. We’ve been lucky if we didn’t get them but I hope we did. But now we have a new one coming up in the family and it takes us some years to get a hold of it.
At this point she was planning on taking another baby into special conditions when something went wrong. For the next several days the family were getting increasingly frustrated, and not wanting to give in or give up had been the best way to deal with it. What about her daughter? All she did was talk to her aunt. As soon as she saw that her aunt was not going to give in, she tried to run. She was unable to do it without being accused of “disgusting”. One day, however, at last, she did get away, and while all she had talked about was having a baby that she could really feel was hers, she could feel that her father wasn’t getting along.
Soon she was about seven months pregnant, although she had tried many times to get to the point with every possible plan in her head so she could avoid all that trouble. During that time she had spent a lot of time with her daughter, and that was when all she knew about her daughter was that she was getting along better with her daughter than she had with her husband
At seventeen months of age, she had met the best of the best. A very well-educated lady, but very hard working as she was, her daughter had been given to some very talented people, whom she knew about herself as well as anybody.
She was now eighteen, and had spent much of her childhood as a lab girl in a loving and independent, professional home. She loved her job, had a good idea of what she wanted to do, it