Goodbye for now

Keep Going

They continue streaming as I rush to the hospital, ignoring all of the rules of the road, with a plush white towel under me. "Ma'am, I'm Nurse Smith but you can call me Patrick. Right now we're just going to move you to out of the emergency room to the Maternal Unit." he gently takes my hand rubbing it soothingly. The warmth from his hands is welcomed. It helps distract from the cold sterile chill of the room. "I know you must be very upset right now but we're going to take good care of you," he continues when I don't respond, I just stare ahead of me, off into the distance.

"It is with my deepest regrets to inform you that it appears you've had a fetal loss. We're just going to do one more blood hCG test and an ultrasound to confirm. It's important to know that this isn't your fault. There is nothing you could have done to prevent this" The doctor addresses me with a loud confident voice, holding a file in her hand. My head swims with emotions and thoughts, all of them screaming at me. It's all so loud in my head that I don't focus on whatever else she says. The loudest seems to be screaming that this isn't fair to me. It's right. This isn't fair. What did I do to deserve this?

"We're just going to go through your options." a new doctor stands before me. Taking her time to sit down on the end of my bed, while I sit there, staring at her in a ratty hospital gown. "Right now the way I see it is you have two options, we can induce labor now or we can keep you here for observation and wait until your body starts the process naturally which can take up to two weeks" she talks to me in a calm quiet voice. So quiet I almost didn't hear her. "I want to induce" is my only reply. "That's okay, we'll have some staff help you through this in just a moment."

Patrick's head pops into the room before he makes his way over to me. "Hi, honey, how are you doing? How are you feeling?" he settles himself onto the end of my bed like the doctor had done just a moment before. "Like half my soul has been violently ripped from me" I whisper in a harsh voice. He nods in an understanding manner and hands me a small plastic container. "This a something to soften your cervix and the other is to induce early labor. It will take a few hours before you start feeling the full effect. Do you want us to call anybody for you? Will the father be arriving soon?" he asks in a hopeful voice. I silently stare at him and slowly shake my head no. Pity fills his eyes as he turns his head to the side and quickly slips out of the room.

A blur of doctors and nurses flooded the room taking my vitals and checking on me until finally, pain starts attacking me from deep within, spanning within 20-minute intervals. At which point I'm asked to roll onto my side so they can administer pain relief.

After delivery, a nurse offers me the chance to hold my baby and I cringe away from the pain of looking at what I've lost. I don't even stay the night like they want me to. When no one is looking I sneak out of my room and limp back down to the parking garage, putting the car in drive straight to a grocery store. I fill two carts up with all the alcohol and snacks they legally allow me. I don't even unpack, I just dump the bags around my new nest on the couch. It hurts too much to sleep in that bed alone now. I haven't even attempted to clean the mattress. The smell of stale blood still permeates through the room.

It burns so good it goes down and I keep swallowing. The burn soothes the pain in my chest. My new diet has replaced water with booze and food with a never-ending flow of Doritos shoveled into my mouth. I cry when I'm not eating and eat when I'm not crying. All-day until I blackout from the alcohol. Then I wake up still drunk the next day and start all over again.

My heart aches for my sister when she once again comes knocking on our door. My body cries out for her, begging to be held by her, not left to the surprisingly cold embrace of dispassionate blankets. A thump rattles the doors hinges. My sister lets out a long-drawn-out sigh that slowly turns into a groan. "Let me help you" sounding more defeated than ever. My response of "I'm fine," seems to anger her. "Fine, you don't want my help. You don't get my help. Do not come crawling back to me, I swear to you that when that happens I won't open the door." Rage seethes through her tone. Her stomping down the porch stairs is forceful enough to shake the house.

I almost let out an audible sob from her departure when she comes stomping back up the stairs. Clearly not satisfied without leaving me with the final blow to the throat "You won't find him at the bottom of any of those bottles." I won't find him she says. Is he gone forever? I feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest. How long will it take until I bleed out?

Maybe I asked for too much. Maybe I should have given him not only my heart but my mind, body, and soul too. Maybe he really didn't want to have a baby and that was the last straw. Maybe I should have cooked dinner every single night and not let him pick up my slack. Maybe I should have worshiped the ground he walked on. Kissed his feet once or twice.

I drown with regret and decide to smother it, so I can drown in the liquor too. As if they might fill all of the empty holes that have been scooped out of me. It doesn't, duh, but it does numb the pain. Just like it numbs my face and that's enough. It needs to be enough. Because right now I am not enough.