Blue Day Analogy

I've had a realisation - one that makes it easier to understand how blue I am today.

When I had my first child he had to be delivered by Caesarean section and was taken away from me straight after the delivery. I was wheeled into a room and he was placed in an incubator in the nursery. I couldn't walk, couldn't even wiggle my toes after the epidural, and I lay in this room, surrounded by flowers while visitors rushed in and out and told me how beautiful my baby was. How we was wearing a singlet on his head in the crib.

I was bereft. He wasn't in my arms where he should be. I couldn't see him.

And that's how I feel right now. I've delivered this play, loved it and birthed it and it's been taken from me and put into the hands of five judges.

I'm receiving lovely emails and text messages, my house is full of flowers, and still I feel bereft.

I wonder if this is how playwrights always feel? If once the play is finished and taken over by directors and actors it stops being theirs?