Portrait of a Mother and Child

After Nicole Trethewey’s “History Lesson”

I see him there, six minutes old, lying swaddled
in a white gauzy blanket on my naked
chest. His eyes squint against

sterile light, his mouth
howls first cry. He grasps my finger, taped
with an IV line. We are tented by the green

sheet dividing my top half
from bottom, as doctors stitch me back
together. I remember this moment through the picture

alone. The rack and the vice of labor tortured
my body, erased my mind’s memory of all but pain
from his birth. In the photo I see how my right arm

cradles him, my eyes caress him, how my mouth
gasps with love my body can’t forget.

Tamara Kreutz is a high school English teacher who always wanted to be a writer. Due in part to the pandemic, she stepped away from teaching and currently stays home with her young son. Though she misses the classroom, this time has allowed her to reacquaint herself with writing.