Take Care of You

The Afterbirth

It is below freezing but with the fire within my stomach to see Melanie and Louisa, it barely reaches me within my coat. I take the bus to the quickest route to Northwick Park Hospital, five miles from our house. I sit at the back, isolated away from anyone who might see the anguish in my face. Through the windscreen of the bus, it looks as if the road is a giant grey play mat rolled out for a child to run toy cars up and down. The lumps and bumps in the road make my stomach pitch up and down. Or perhaps that's just my excruciating nerves talking. I'm getting endless amounts of text messages from our friends congratulating us on the birth of Louisa and asking when they can pop round and see her. For fucks sake, I don't know how word the spread around as quickly as it did. I only called my mate Nathaniel to ask if he could give me a lift to the hospital. Stupid geezer, can't keep his mouth shut for one second. How am I meant to explain that Melanie nearly died last night and Lou has been kept in overnight for observations? I somehow feel culpable, she's my wife and Louisa is my kid. They're both relying on me to protect them and now they are in hospital. The one place Mel was adamant she didn't want to be, hence the home birth plan. Out of fears of hospitals since she was a kid. I wish now that I had put my foot down and made her give birth there, it might have prevented what we are now faced with.

The automated message announcing my stop jerks me from where my head is buried in my phone. I shove it in my pocket along with Mel's that was left back home last night and make my way from the bus to the front entrance. I nearly slip on the icy surface of the uneven slabs multiple times, by the time I've reached the revolving doors my Puma suedes are all scuffed up with skid marks.

"Hello, my name is Joel McKenzie. My wife and daughter were bought in here last night. I'd like to visit them both, please?" I ask in the politest voice I can muster. The ginger haired receptionist keeps her eyes firmly on her computer screen and initially ignores me. I tap my fingertips on the desk impatiently and let out a frustrated huff that makes her finally look up.

"They are on the fourth floor, east wing. The lifts are just over there," she gestures over to the left with a condescending fake smile.

"Thanks," I mumble, walking away. I can't say I blame her for being a misery, she's probably working all the hours God sends on the minimum wage. Scrimping and saving all the pennies to support herself. I know from Melanie's angle that she was doing exactly the same until we got together and combined our two wages together.

I stand up against the mirror at the back of the lift as two orderly's take up the majority of the space with a young man in a bed hooked up to various different drips. The strong smell of disinfectant hits me as we stop on every single floor, I check the time. It's 2:30pm, visiting hours are between 2pm-4pm. Which only gives me an hour and a half window. The doors finally open on the fourth floor and I quickly scarper off down the hall.

"Excuse me, sir. Can I help you?" A thin, middle aged woman with short curly hair stops me in my tracks. Pulling her surgical mask down from her mouth and letting it hang loosely around her neck.

"Yes, I'm here to see my wife. Melanie McKenzie and her..my, my daughter Louisa." I'm still struggling to come to terms with the fact that it's not just me and Mel anymore. We've got a little girl now too.

"Oh, ok. I'm glad I was the one to run into you, Mr McKenzie. It might be best if we go through here and have a private discussion," she walks ahead, gesturing towards a coffee seating area.

"No, I just want to see my wife and kid. Are they ok?" I start panicking.

"They are both stable and are doing absolutely fine...for now. Louisa is a little gem, all the nurses are in love with her and want to take her home," she gushes, pouring me a cup of black coffee.