Overturned

Anger (Ectopic 2)

"I'll be right back," the doctor said as she took a few pictures and began to walk out.

* 24 minutes had passed, and it felt like an eternity. *

"Okay, I'm going to be very real with you guys. When the embryo develops outside of the uterus, you are suffering an ectopic pregnancy. The embryo in your situation is developing in your fallopian tubes. Your pregnancy is currently five weeks along, but if we don't remove the embryo quickly, your fallopian tubes might burst, posing a serious risk to your life. You don't have much time, and I'm being very honest with you about this."

Tears welled up in my eyes. They were beginning to gather along my eyelashes and rapidly started to flow uncontrollably. I forced myself to hold my breath until I was basically suffocating. The back of my husband's head was turned toward me as he stood beside me.

"The only option at this point is an abortion, and unfortunately I legally am unable to do that for you now that Roe V. Wade was overturned, and if I were to do this for you I will lose my medical license. Abortion is illegal in this state so I will have to refer you to another doctor in a state where abortion is still legal." The doctor explained as my husband wrapped his arms around me in attempts to comfort me while his tears trickled from his cheeks to mine. It felt like my whole world was crashing down, it basically was. Both my husband and I were unable to even utter a word due to the pure shock and fear we both felt.

To break the silence the doctor began again, "I am not certain on how long you have left before you can get this done, since we are in the state of Louisiana, the closest state still with certain legal abortions is Illinois."

"We put all of our savings into IVF treatment doctor. I don't know if we can afford to even make it there, I mean it is a 12-hour drive." My husband's tone sounded different and was mixed with fear and sorrow.

"I'm so sorry, I really want to help but there's really nothing I can do." The doctor said as she tightened her grip on the clipboard in her hands. She had a pained look on her face, and a tear was rolling down her cheek as I observed her. She excused herself before walking out. I remained in the room with my husband while we exchanged looks of despair and defeat. My stomach started to ache once more, but it was much worse this time.
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Was this déjà vu I was feeling? My husband and I were biting our tongues while sitting in silence because we had so much to say but were unable to express it. His thumb gently brushed my hand back and forth as he tried to comfort me as we tightly held hands. 

With each breath I took, I could feel my body tensing up and my lungs swelling. My heart felt like it was trying to escape from my chest as it was thumping. I let go of my husband's hand and started repeatedly slamming my fist against the dashboard. My husband tried to stop me, but I accidentally elbowed him. "I'm so sorry." I uttered as I tried to put my other foot on the ground after opening the car door with one on the side steps, I slipped and ended up on the ground. I then managed to crawl to the curb and sob till my eyes felt dry. Naturally, my loving husband was standing next to me, placing a kind hand on my back. When I turned to face him, he smiled and shed a tear. He didn't even try to say anything about me hitting him; instead, he sat there with me while I sobbed, his lip injured and swollen. We stayed like this in the hospital parking lot so desperate in hopes of some kind of miracle.

*********************************

I threw up as soon as I got home and for a good while everything was spinning, until it wasn't. I rested my head on the palms of my hands as I watched my husband frantically run around our apartment packing our bags. I was curious and wanted to see where this would go even though I was already aware that the end was nearing. The white counters stained with coffee, the light that has flickered for as long as I can remember, and the stool next to me that has actually needed to be replaced about a thousand times all due to my husband made me nostalgic as I looked around our apartment. A darkness consumed me my thoughts had been poisoned; I am going to die.

FLASHBACK: 

There was so much laughter and joy that my husband and I held each other and danced around our brand-new apartment. We began blasting music on a little speaker that we received as a welcome present from our new neighbors. As we danced, I immediately became distracted with my thoughts and somehow managed to trip over one of our boxes. My husband and I both collapsed to the ground face to face, laughing so hard that we both started to cry. We then shared a tender moment and passionate kiss.

FLASHBACK ENDS:

My husband set a stack of papers, pencils, and an old box of my fancy-colored pencils in front of me while I raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

"Um ho-" I was stopped before I even got started. Half of the reason to this is because I was interrupted the other was due to the extreme pain I was feeling in my abdomen.

"Please wait and listen before you respond. You have a passion for sketching, honey, and when you are drawing, you are the happiest I have ever seen you. It's as if nothing else brings you as much joy. I only want you to smile." My husband cried out in distress, 

"I appreciate it, but I just can't at this time; I'm mentally drained and no longer feel the need to be creative."

"Well, in case you change your mind," my husband gestured to the stack of papers before quickly turning. 

I asked my husband in a critical tone, "wait, why are you packing bags for us? It's not like we'll be able to make it there especially with the gas prices rising."

"Well, we can try, remember together we can get through anything." My husband's eyes grew full of sorrow as he replied. Again, he is persistent, so I decided not to push for an argument even though I was in the most pain I had ever been in a long time. My husband noticed the pained expression on my face but before either of us could get any words out I ran to the restroom to throw up again. At least I made it to the toilet this time unlike the several other times. Due to the intense nausea, I felt, I clung to the toilet. I decided to go through my phone contacts after feeling a little better when I came across my mother's. I hate to say it, but I was already considering talking to her. I haven't spoken to her in a while. I called her, putting aside our differences, hoping to hear anything, anything, to get me through this immense pain I felt both mentally and physically.

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In the back of my mind, I knew this trip wouldn't end good, but I wanted some kind of hope I needed something to keep me going. Before leaving the driveway, my husband gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek and placed his hand softly on my stomach. The speed at which we were traveling was neither alarming nor turtle-like; instead, it was more in the middle. My husband was clearly nervous, as shown by the loud music and blasting air conditioning, but even with all of those factors, I was still able to see right through him. Along with the sweat that was glistening on his face and the sun's reflection, of course. 

"I love you." My husband attempted to make eye contact with me although I only saw him in my peripheral vision. I love him so much probably more than anything on this earth, but I've never been good at showing it. Maybe it's just wired in my brain for me to not be able to express such strong emotion or maybe it's because my parents rarely said it to each other and when they did it was obvious, they didn't mean it and were only saying it for the sake of me and my younger brother. As I was taken away into another "bliss trance" my husband's smile collapsed into a hurt look. I really love him so much it hurt me so bad that even though we were already married I struggled this much to say 3 words. I can't even imagine the pain he feels though. 

I picked up a pencil and set one of the papers my husband had given me on a book that was in one of the car's compartments. I had to act quickly to seize on the sudden surge of motivation while I could before it was too late.