All That Matters

Chapter Two

Never in her life had Amanda felt more agony.

'It's going to be okay,' Adam kept saying, holding her hand, but she could barely hear him above the voices of the doctors and the nurses who crowded the small delivery room.

An IV had been inserted in her arm, and a band wrapped around her stomach and hooked up to a fetal monitor.

'I'm not getting anything on the monitor...' the nurse trailed off.

'Try again!' the medical personnel replied.

'I'm only twenty-seven weeks,' Amanda said between pants.

'We know, sweetheart.' The nurse readjusted the band around Amanda's stomach. 'We are doing everything we can.' Turning to face the doctor, she added, 'There's still no heartbeat.'

'Get the ultrasound!' The doctor ordered, and a minute later, one is wheeled in.

As another cramp seized Amanda, the gel was squirted on her abdomen. The doctor's eyes were fixed on the ultrasound monitor. 'There's the heart.'

Through the pain, Amanda struggled to sit up but Adam held her back.

'What is it?' she asked, afraid she already knew the answer.

A couple of minutes passed in silence. Amanda bit her lip in pain, listening to the beeping of the machines.

When the doctor spoke, his voice was soft, 'There is no heartbeat.' He was trying to look anywhere but into Amanda's eyes. 'I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that your baby is dead.'

A scream broke the silence, and it took Amanda a minute to realize that it was coming from her mouth.

~

When Amanda woke up, at first, for a blissful minute she did not remember where she was. But when she moved her hand to her stomach, everything that had happened came back to her memory.

As she thought about it, she could not help the tears that had escaped her eyes.

Adam, who was sitting beside her on the bed, realized she was awake. He put his arm around her, and whispered, 'It will be okay.'

'I want to see him,' Amanda said, making Adam freeze.

'I don't think that's a good idea...'

'I do! Call the nurse or I will!'

He slowly nodded, got up and left the room.

A few minutes later, he returned, following a nurse who was holding his child.

'I'm sorry for your loss,' the nurse said, handing Amanda her child.

Her child was cold, his lips blue. She pulled him to her chest, letting the tears fall down her face, onto his body. She settled him on her lap and covered his chest with her hands, but there was no heart beat.

'May I keep him for a while?' she asked the nurse, who nodded. But then another though occurred to her, and she asked the nurse, 'Where did you keep him?'

'Excuse me?'

'Where did you keep him? I want to see it,' she repeated.

'I am sorry, I - '

'Do it,' Adam interrupted her sentence. 'If that is what she wants, then do it.'

The nurse pursed her lips and nodded.

Amanda was seated on a wheelchair; her baby still in her arms. The nurse wheeled her to a row of shelving units. Besides it, stood a refrigerator, which the nurse opened up, stopping the wheelchair next to it.

When Amanda looked inside the empty white walls and the rack, she understood. And hugging her baby closer, she screamed until her throat hurt.

~

When Amanda was getting discharged from the hospital, her wheelchair was wheeled to an elevator, with Adam beside her. As she was waiting for the doors to open, another woman was wheeled next to her. The only difference was that this woman was carrying a baby, and Amanda wasn't.

The woman had a balloon attached to her wheelchair, with the word 'Congratulations' written on it. Beside her, her husband held a bouquet of flowers.

The elevator door opened, with the dinging of a bell. It was empty and there was enough room for the four of them, but after the other woman was wheeled in, Adam blocked the door, and said, 'We'll take the next one.'

Amanda let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding.

~

When Amanda woke up the next morning, her breasts felt like stones. Even when she took a breath, they hurt.

There was no baby, but her body did not seem to realize that.

The nurse had warned her about this, although after all the miscarriages she had suffered, there was no need to remind her: there used to be an injection to dry breast milk, but it had serious side effects.

She carefully got out of bed, leaving the room quietly, not wanting to wake Adam up.

She took off her shirt - even the fabric of her clothes hurt - and went to look for some ibuprofen.

She recalled the first time when this had happened. She had gotten up and dialed her doctor's office number, and the receptionist had picked up.

'Can I talk to a nurse-midwife?' Amanda had asked, after introducing herself.

'Sure.'

A minute later, there was a click on the line.

'Amanda,' the nurse had said. 'How are you?'

'Is there anything I can do to dry up my milk?'

'Not really. Although you might want to take some ibuprofen. If you have any sage, cook with it - it inhabits milk production - or make some tea. You can also try putting refrigerated cabbage leaves inside your bra to reduce inflammation.'

She had thanked her and put the receiver down, thinking all the discomfort would have been worth it if only her baby had lived.