Fetal Perspective

Ending 3 - Mother's Death

Today begins like any other.

The rhythmic pulse of her heartbeat fills my world, steady and comforting. It has always been my guide, my song, the anchor that keeps me tethered to this life. I stretch my tiny arms and legs, my movements slow and deliberate, basking in the gentle sway of her movements.

She is busy today, moving more than usual. Her voice hums faintly through the walls of my sanctuary, blending with the outside sounds I cannot quite distinguish. There's something calming about this routine, this predictable rhythm of our shared life.

But then, it happens.

It's sudden—violent, even. Her body jerks, and the world around me trembles with a force I've never felt before. The walls that cradled me so securely convulse, squeezing tight before releasing in erratic spasms. I feel her heartbeat surge, pounding faster and faster until it's almost deafening.

And then... it stops.

The silence is instant and absolute. It's as if the entire world has paused, holding its breath in disbelief. My own tiny heart races in confusion, beating against the sudden void where her life once resonated.

Where is her heartbeat?

I wait for it to return, straining to feel the rhythm that has always been there. Seconds pass, then minutes, but the steady thrum that once filled my world does not come back. Instead, there is a hollow stillness, an emptiness that I cannot escape.

Her warmth begins to fade.

The fluid that surrounds me grows colder, losing the gentle heat that had always reassured me. I reach out, pressing my hands and feet against the walls, seeking the comfort of her presence. But she does not respond. Her body is still, and I feel the lifeline that connects us growing weaker with every passing moment.

Panic sets in.

I twist and turn, trying to understand what is happening. My small heart races, each beat carrying a silent plea: Come back. I'm still here. I need you.

But she doesn't return.

Time passes, though I have no way of knowing how long. The silence stretches on, and the coldness seeps deeper into my world. I can feel the connection between us unraveling, the bond that once sustained me fraying at the edges.

Her blood, once a warm river carrying life to me, slows to a trickle. My body, so small and fragile, struggles to keep up. My movements become sluggish, my energy fading as the nutrients I need are no longer there.

I try to stay strong. I try to hold on.

But her body, my world, is failing. The walls that protected me now feel fragile, as if they could collapse at any moment. The liquid that cradles me grows thinner, less supportive, and I feel myself sinking into the void.

My thoughts are scattered, fragmented, but one question rises above them all: Why?

Why has she left me? Did she know this would happen? Did she think of me in her final moments? Did she feel fear, pain, or sorrow? I want to believe she thought of me, that I was with her in some way as her world ended.

My body grows weaker. My movements slow to a crawl, each one requiring more effort than the last. The coldness has reached my core now, and I feel the faint flicker of my heart struggling to continue.

I remember her voice—soft, melodic, filled with love. I remember the way her laughter made my world feel brighter, even though I didn't fully understand it. I remember the steady beat of her heart, the first sound I ever knew.

I hold onto these memories, wrapping them around me like a blanket as the darkness closes in. My connection to her, to life, is almost gone now. The flicker of my heartbeat slows, each beat growing fainter until it is barely there at all.

In my final moments, I feel a strange peace.

Though I do not fully understand what has happened, I know that I was loved. She carried me, protected me, gave me a world that, however brief, was filled with warmth and wonder. I was a part of her, and she was a part of me.

As my heartbeat fades into silence, I let go, drifting into the unknown with the memory of her love as my guide.

And then, there is nothing.