Temporary Secretary

Part 75

6 November 1981

3:00pm Friday

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It was your second day in the hospital.

You slept that night, but woke up drenched in sweat.

It was the morning now. You were being given time to recover, still bleeding out, uterus contracting to normal size for the first time in a long time.

You handed off the baby a few times for its physicals, vaccines, screenings, and general monitoring. Newborns were quite fragile. You trusted the doctors enough, the band on its ankle making sure it wasn't swapped.

Plus, you were still a bit nervous to be alone with it.

It was odd to think about. As it was, your mind was muddled quite badly, your body sore and unfamiliar.

The baby wasn't here now. A vaccine or test, you believed.

You were also being checked. You had to get stitches due to the tearing. You kept bleeding out, wearing a maternity pad. You tried not to look down there, or think to much on it. You didn't want to know. Not until it was healed, at least. Lord.

Well, you'd known what to expect, and what you'd gotten yourself into.

It was blissful taking the shower. You hadn't bathed since the evening of the third! Hadn't gotten a chance to. Washing away and easing your soreness

The hospital facilities lacked the familiarity and comfort of home, but there was running water and the toiletries you'd packed. You washed your hair, your face, the hot water soothing.

You dried off. The hospital towels were sanitary and simplistic, worn from endless rewashing, but it was enough.

You had turned away from the mirror when you undressed and got in, making a point to avoid looking down. You knew the inevitable, yet were afraid to look. You knew it'd change, or rather, need time to recover, return to something recognizable.

When drying off, you'd forgotten not to glance, an unconscious thing. You looked away just as quick.

You tried not to get hung up on vanity. It wasn't even if Paul cared, not that he'd seen you. Though that wasn't even a relevant thought, you knew nothing could bother him, considering. It was your own ego.

Furthermore, you knew your mind was hazy and not itself. You'd put off worrying until you could think clearly.

You could tell your stomach hadn't gone down completely. You didn't feel stuffed and heavy anymore, at least, but still looked somewhat pregnant.

You'd known that, it'd linger for a little while. It took more than one night to recover, considering what an ordeal you'd gone through.

You secured another maternity pad for the bleeding, putting on a fresh hospital gown. You didn't feel like changing back into regular clothes just yet.

Paul had left briefly yesterday to get you a fresh set of clothes. It was another one of those loose fitting dresses you'd been wearing toward the end.

You didn't want to return to your old clothes just yet. You knew they wouldn't fit, and it'd just upset you to try.

Lord, you hoped you returned to your old size.

You'd always been thin, but had grown in some areas. You'd already sized up your bras, and knew they'd be larger so long as you breastfed. Your hips too.

Well, Paul had made clear that he got off to it, so why bother.

Your wet hair felt damp against your gown. You wrapped it in a towel.