SHATTERED DREAMS

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The pain was unbearable, far worse than anything I had ever felt in my life. As Aphiwe helped me into the back of the car, I was drenched in sweat, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. It felt like my body was betraying me, tearing itself apart from the inside out. My heart raced in panic as I clutched my abdomen, desperately trying to understand what was happening.

The drive to the hospital was a blur of pain and confusion. Each bump in the road sent waves of agony through my body, and I couldn’t stop screaming. I was barely aware of Aphiwe speeding through the streets, her voice tight with fear as she spoke on the phone with the hospital, telling them to prepare for an emergency.

My mind was racing, grasping for answers, but I couldn’t think straight. All I could feel was the overwhelming sensation that something was wrong, deeply wrong. Something inside me was trying to force its way out, and I was powerless to stop it.

When we pulled up to the hospital, everything became a whirlwind of movement. Nurses rushed out with a wheelchair, and I was barely able to stand as they lifted me into it. My vision blurred with tears as the pain twisted through me, and I could feel the warm liquid still leaking down my legs. I looked down, horrified to see the growing stain on my clothes.

“Please, help me!” I sobbed, my voice raw from screaming. “Something’s wrong, I don’t know what’s happening!”

The nurses didn’t waste a second, pushing me down the hallway toward the emergency room. I gripped the sides of the wheelchair, my knuckles white, as another wave of pain tore through me. I screamed again, feeling like my entire body was splitting open.

“Stay with us, Hlelo,” one of the nurses said, her voice calm but urgent. “We’re going to take care of you.”

They wheeled me into a room, and suddenly there were more hands on me, lifting me onto a bed. The bright overhead lights made everything feel surreal, like I was trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. I was gasping for air, clutching my stomach as the pain intensified. It felt like something was pushing its way out of me, like my body was fighting against itself.

I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus on anything except the overwhelming, blinding pain. My vision blurred as I felt the cold gel of an ultrasound machine being pressed against my abdomen. The doctors were speaking, but I couldn’t make out the words. It was all a haze of voices and pain, my body trembling violently as I fought to stay conscious.

Then, I felt it—something shifted inside me. My eyes widened in terror as a sudden pressure built between my legs, and I cried out again, my hands instinctively gripping the sides of the bed.

“I can’t… I can’t take it!” I screamed. “Something’s coming out!”

The doctors moved quickly, their faces set in grim concentration as they examined me. I could see the panic in their eyes now, though they tried to keep their voices steady.

“We need to move fast,” one of them said. “She’s in labor.”

Labor? The word barely registered in my pain-addled mind. How could I be in labor? I didn’t even know I was pregnant! How could this be happening?

The pain was so overwhelming that I thought I might pass out. My heart pounded in my chest as the doctors rushed to prepare for an emergency delivery, but all I could do was lie there, helpless, as my body took over.

I screamed again as the pressure intensified, and suddenly, I knew—this was it. Something was coming, and there was no stopping it.

“Hlelo, listen to me,” a nurse said, her voice cutting through the chaos. “You need to push now. I know it hurts, but you have to push.”

I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. “I can’t… I can’t do this…”

“Yes, you can,” she said firmly. “You have to. Push, Hlelo. Push now!”

I clenched my teeth, using what little strength I had left to bear down. The pain was excruciating, but I forced myself through it, pushing with everything I had.

Time seemed to stand still, the world narrowing to the blinding pain and the sound of my own labored breathing. And then, finally, I felt it—a release. The pressure was gone, and all at once, the room seemed to fall into a stunned silence.

I lay there, gasping for breath, my body shaking uncontrollably as I tried to process what had just happened. My mind was spinning, my heart pounding in my chest.

“It's over, Hlelo,” the nurse said softly, her face swimming into view. “You did it.”

But her voice sounded distant, like it was coming from somewhere far away. I looked down, my vision still hazy, and saw a tiny, fragile figure being lifted into the hands of the doctors.

A baby.

My baby.

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. All I could do was stare in shock as they rushed the baby away to check on its condition, my mind reeling with the impossible truth.

I had given birth.