DANGEROUS ARRANGEMENTS

LABOR AND NO DELIVERY

I would've given anything to ease the intolerable pain I was in... anything.

In between contractions, I gathered whatever strength I had and headed towards the medicine cabinet in the hallway. I looked for Tylenol or Aleve and found both. I then hurried towards the kitchen and grabbed a glass, filled it half-way with water, and took three Tylenols.

Conscious that I was due for another contraction soon, I quickly made my way back towards my room with my less than half a glass of water, and bottles of Tylenol and Aleve in hand.

I then set them upon my nightstand and got back into bed to prepare to deal with the next wave of agonizing contractions.

During this time, I went back and forth in my mind, debating whether or not my brother was going to call at any minute and save me from this unbearable experience.

But no matter how much I hoped he would, that phone just wouldn't ring. I continued to page him in the hours to come, my resolve weakening with every passing hour.

During this desperate time, I had taken off my sweat pants and undergarments, leaving only a long sleeve shirt on. I thought, in some small way, this would grant me relief from what I was feeling.

And as I lay there half naked, and feeling as though I was going die when the next contraction hit, I remember thinking, it's probably best that I do die; as help was clearly not on the way.

It seemed evident that the plan to "page and rescue" wasn't going to happen, and that the time was now approaching nearly 3 p.m. This meant that my father was going to be home within the hour.

I was now more terrified than ever, thinking he was going to discover me and the pregnancy I had kept secret from him, my mother and pretty much everyone else I knew.

That thought alone in those moment were more painful than any contraction I was ever going to experience. With that in mind, compromising my better judgement, I reached for the bottles of Tylenol and Aleve and began ingesting whatever pills were left in them.

God, please just let me die already, was all I could think.

Up until I took those pills, I must have paged my brother no less than 50 or 60 times but it was becoming increasingly clear that one of two things were going to happen this day;

I was either going to deliver this baby by myself in the very near future, and somehow get it to an adoption agency, or both me and the baby would die from taking the overdose.

Thoughts like,

"How on earth did women from the beginning of time do it?" entered my mind as I weakly attempted to draw courage and strength from such ideas.

"I mean, before hospitals and fancy medical centers, women all over the world gave birth at home, right?" I continued to ponder.