Natasha Head’s “Birthing Inadequacy: Poems”

It’s an arresting idea, and not easy to pull off: assemble a poetry collection around the idea of conception, pregnancy, and childbirth – not, however, like a child is conceived and born, but as a woman is constructed from childhood to adulthood.  

Welcome to Birthing Inadequacy: Poems by poet and writer Natasha Head.  

The works in the collection are a combination of poetry and short narratives. They are confessional in nature; “self-examined” is perhaps a better description. She recounts scenes from childhood and growing up, the accumulated experiences that, in both good and bad ways, contribute to whom we are as adults. Time is both telescoped and abandoned, because our collective experiences, traumas and delights remain with us, shaping actions and reactions. 

The poems and narratives are grouped in five sections: conception; first, second, and third trimesters; and afterbirth. They have the feel of an ongoing flow, always happening in the present. This is one from the :First Trimester” section: 

Dark Matter 

Slipstream

particles collide

transference 

Realities merge

coupling

sensing the potential 

Is this the me you wish to see

propped up pedestal

trip the switch 

Blackness now as you ponder

in the dark there is no sense of my self

which might influence your desire 

Shortcut now

space and time need pay no mind

the wormhole trumps their power 

Now meek and mild

no more girl gone wild

you knew that taste would sour 

Pulsing waves distort my senses

while you decide

where you’ll mark your fences 

Collar tight, the leash is snug

have you determined

this is love? 

Head grew up in Nova Scotia and now lives in Alberta. She’s the author of a previous collection of poetry, Nothing Left to Lose (nominated for the Pushcart Prize), and Pulse, a narrative fiction collection. She’s also been published in numerous anthologies and publications. 

In Birthing Inadequacy, what the poet is particularly conscious of, as the title suggests, are those experiences that contribute to a negative or inadequate sense of self. We’ve all experienced them; what she reminds us here is that these experiences are never really left behind. And yet that recognition is itself a kind of catharsis; recognition leads to understanding, and understanding leads to resolution. 

Painting: Woman in Blue Reading a Letter, oil on canvas (1662-65) by Johannes Vermeer; Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.