Dust and smoke clouded my vision, an eerie silence had fallen pierced only by the sharp ringing in my ears and my pounding heartbeat. The pain came next, I screamed, this wasn't how it was supposed to be, I am the medic, I don't get hurt, I help the hurt.
My eyes snapped open, the white walls of the hospital room greet me, I scream again and reach for my leg, trying to sooth the pain in my calf, my hand meets the mattress as my mind catches up with my body. I don't have a calf there anymore.
Two nurses come in and gently lay me back down, telling me to calm down, that the pain medication they just injected into my IV would take effect shortly. I grit my teeth and growl through the pain, clutching fistfuls of blanket in my hands. Slowly but surely the pain tapers off, leaving a dull ache in its place.
I look over at the bedside table, smiling weakly at the picture standing on it; it is a picture of my baby girls. Both are grinning while covered in paint, it was some school event where painting was involved. I reach over and pick it up, running my fingers across the picture, I still haven't gotten to see them since I got back. But it has been a week and I demanded that they be let in, pain or no pain, last night and I was told if I was up today then they could come in and see me.
A sharp stab of pain shoots up my leg, I grunt, and close my eyes, since the amputation my body is still adjusting and the phantom pains are not getting much better. The door opens and I open my eyes, I immediately start sobbing and hold my arms out, my little girls are finally here.
“MOMMY!!!!!!” they scream and rush to the bed, one on each side, I grab them both, not caring that my whole right side is killing me.
I know that I must look terrifying to my babies, cuts on my face, IV and monitor cables all attached to me, but right now all I can do is sob with joy.
They let me hold them close and we all cry together, happy tears, joyful tears, it has been a long seven months. My dad quietly snaps pictures even though I told him not to before because I looked like crap.
I am so happy that he forgave me and has been helping me these long months of deployment. When I had told him I was pregnant with the girls at the age of sixteen he got so angry he didn't speak to me for months. But when their birth came along he was there for me, when he held my little girls in his arms for the first time his heart softened. Unfortunately that didn't mean that he was proud of me or even wanted to try and have a good relationship with me. It wasn't until I came home in uniform when I saw that old pride in his eyes. Since then we have been as close as ever and he took care of the girls while I was deployed. He wrote me letters and sent me pictures of the girls on a very regular basis, keeping me updated on them and helping keep my spirits up.
Then I got wounded and sent back for recovery and rehab. I was still in bad shape on the way back so I was sedated but the nurses told me my dad was the first person waiting for the plane to land at the base and he didn't leave my side for the first three days until I came out of it. He helped me get over the shock of learning I lost my right leg below the knee and some functionality of my right arm. He kept me going those pain filled days when the doctors were figuring out just how much function I had in my arm. He brought me pictures of the girls and told me funny stories of their antics. I know I wouldn't have made it through without his encouragement. Now, now he has brought my babies to see me, giving me the best joy I have ever felt.
I sob and sob, holding them tight as they tell me how much they missed me, I manage to whisper that I missed them too.
“Mommy I love you!” says Samantha.
Cassandra echos her, “I love you mommy!”
I grasp them even tighter, “Oh babies, I missed you so much and I love you so so very much. Mommy promises not to go away again.”
It takes us a while to calm down but once we do they start showing me pictures they've drawn in school and tell me about all their friends in their class. I smile so wide, enjoying every minute with my girls. Nothing can describe the joy that I feel from being back with my girls and seeing them doing so well.
Then one of the girls asks the question I had been waiting for nervously, “Mommy, what happened to your leg, why is this one shorter than that one?”
My dad clears his throat awkwardly but I smile up at him, ready to try and explain to my girls what happened to my leg, “Well girls, you know how mommy had to go away for so long because of her job in the marines, right?” They both nod, “Well mommy had to go and take care of other soldiers fighting the bad men, sometimes it was very dangerous and people got hurt. Mommy had to work one day and got very hurt, so hurt that the doctors had to take my leg so that mommy could get better.”
Cassandra looks down at my legs then back up at me, “What did they do with your leg mommy, do they have still have it?”
I laugh at her silliness, it has been a while since I last laughed, it feels good, “No, I don't think they still have it, I can ask them what they did with it though the next time I see my doctor.”
They both nod and then hug me again, I pull them to me and hold them tight. Suddenly pain shoots through my side and I clench my jaw while trying to hide my pain from the girls. My dad sees my face and goes out to get a nurse.
“Mommy, what's wrong?” Sam says looking up at my face.
I swallow and smile down at her, “Mommy is just hurting a little bit sweeties. Tell me about Kai, last time I saw him he was a tiny puppy.”
Both girls start grinning and talking at the same time, but the pain becomes unbearable. The last thing I remember is my dad picking up the girls telling them that I needed a nap. Then the blackness overtakes me.
