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ecotone99 · 5 years ago

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[HR] A Mothers Reprieve

A Mothers Reprieve The night ended like most, thoughts of motherhood flooded my mind and the endless dreams tortured me in my sleep. I have not slept will in…. well I guess I couldn’t remember the last time I had a good night’s sleep. I would like to think it was sometime before Hugo and I were expecting our baby Marcy.

The hard mattress underneath me stiffened with each turn of my body as I laid in bed. The skin against my belly stretched tight against my waist, and I felt every centimeter of Marcy’s’ slow-growing body inside of me. I laid here awake feeling the skin around my body give way surrendering itself in preparation for the birthing process.

My joints pulsed and throbbed as they filled with fluid, swollen from today’s activities. The ligaments in my body cracked with lighting and the sharp sensation radiated throughout my body. I considered waking Hugo so that we can go to our doctor, but a quick google search confirmed what was in the back of my mind.

There is no escape.

As I laid in the darkness of my room, a peaceful aura surrounded the turmoil that was my body. I considered the peace I would get when I get this damn baby out of me. Only one month to go.

A sigh escaped my breath as the thoughts quickly flooded back in. A sudden pain struck me back into reality and overcame my joy. I don’t know how to feel.

I felt disgusting to say the least.

A sharp alarm rang out which jostled me from my stream of consciousness. The alarm read 08:00 AM.

Shit! I slowly rushed out of bed to get ready. I dressed myself in whatever still fit me. Honestly, I didn’t even know how I managed some days.

Hugo awoke to see me getting changed, not realizing that I had never really slept at all. He set a pot of coffee and started scrambling some eggs for me

“Thank you, Hun, but please make them for yourself I have to at least make it to the office before Mark and Jeffrey come in. It’s the last day I have before the budget proposal is due. I have to finish the proposal or else it won’t matter if I go on maternity leave or not because there won’t be a job to return to.”

He kissed me on the cheek and begged me to eat some toast at a minimum. The inner monologue inside my head screamed “You Are a Whale,” “He Wants You Fat,” “She loves you,”

” Do it for him” “He Loves You” “You Need the Nourishment”

Hugo asked me, “You. Want. Some Peanut…. B,”

As I stared into Hugo’s face intently, the sound of my breath buzzed in my head overtaking the words filling my ears. It felt wrong somehow to be here, right now, standing here in front of the person I love. The steam chirped off the coffee pot. The low hum of flies buzzed behind me, the refrigerator motor blasted vibrations throughout the recesses of my body. Something just felt off and I could not understand what, that, was.

“utter?”. Hugo finished. I focused on a sharp pain across the right side of my ribcage that broke the reality of my thoughts. Regaining my composure, I gathered my thoughts, “I’m sorry what? Marcy’s just been kicking the crap out my ribs just now. “

Hugo voice cracked “Are you alright? Maybe you should consider just sitting this day out today? Don’t you think?” The thought comes to mind, it sounded like that’s the smart thing to do. A choice most would consider without hesitation, right?

The thought grew heavy in my mind and the reality that is, flashed before me. I’m about to give birth to my goddamn daughter. It should be easy for me to just stay home. Yet something was calling out to me, intruding my thoughts, which is why I had to stay busy until the end.

Hugo’s eyes examined me, looked me over infinitely, as I noticed the consternation swelling in his face. He’s right to be concerned, as it’s something that I feel I’ve had no control of. I must have stood here longer than imagined, ruminating in thought.

Hugo’s voice grew louder with concern, “Damn it! Are you listening to me? Fuck? Did you even sleep?”

Our eyes locked, piercing mine; he delved deep into my thoughts, the reddish hue, my bloodshot eyes answered the question without me having to. “It’s not that I stayed up because I wanted to.” As if, defiant, I continued “Look. I know your worried about me and Marcy. This is hard on me. I don’t feel like myself. I want to go to sleep at night but time just passes by.”

He sighed; his eyes rolled over me. A flash of irritation swept across my face, I felt the impending lecture brewing, like many times before. He rants about the importance of rest and relaxation.

He paced back and forth in the kitchen and in the process, he grabbed a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread off the top shelf. His hands weighed heavy with anxiety; they shook as he put the bread to toast.

A soft sigh escaped from under him as he leaned over the kitchen counter. His shoulders pursed back begrudgingly. I walked across the kitchen and took a seat; I could practically foresee where this was heading. He breathed in deeply several times, and with each passing breath a myriad of words came to my head ready to address his concerns.

Hugo turned his body around giving me his full attention. “Look, it makes me feel sad…”

My thoughts interrupt his. The words gnawed at my conscious, annoyed at his choice of words my face scowled. Sad? How can he feel sadness when I have been fighting against it the entire pregnancy? As days go by, I felt successful overcoming sadness, yet it always seemed at any moment I would be overcome by it.

Hugo continued “…that I can’t understand you. I feel helpless that I can’t help you with what you’re physically going through, but believe me I want to. Were a team; You, me and Marcy. I love you, please just take it easy. Fuck it! Don’t go to work if they fire you, we’ll sue them for discrimination. I mean how can they fire the pregnant girl.”

My stomach churned; my hands wet with perspiration. His words an unexpected change and not at all the underhanded attack of frustration I had pictured.

I reflected on his words and examined them at face value. I stood up and walked toward him and embraced him in my arms. A sharp voice chimed in my right ear, ever so softly whispered as it faded, “You’re the reason he’s sad.” Hugo’s eyes starred into mine, I felt the sweet warm aura his body conveyed, erasing all thoughts as I hugged him tighter. “I love you too.” I assured him that would be taking my maternity leave as of today and that I would let Mark know to finish the proposal for me.

Hugo grabbed the toast and scraped a glob of peanut butter on it. I took a seat by the table, took a deep breath, and allowed the rich nutty smell to engulf me and nourish my senses. I eagerly started eating my toast and watched as Hugo continued his attempts to help me. The sizzling of the pan and the spats of oil jumping off into the stove painted a smile upon my face. The inner monologue silenced through the power of food.

The last bite of peanut butter toast soothed my stomach, as I breathed out, the tightness around my belly started to wane. My ankles however, pulsed with envy as they continued to swell. Still, these moments of peace are what I strived for in this long grueling road.

He put a plate of eggs and bacon in front of me; I hesitated for a moment and considered my position. I haven’t eaten in over 12 hours, haven’t slept well, and my husband seemingly, tried hard, to make me happy. I lifted the spoon brimming with eggs up into my mouth and opened wide.

“Bzzzzzzzzzz…….Bzzzzt.” I heard my phone vibrate in the room. My muscles trained from memory, that sound all too familiar, contracted around my spine and tightened my loose joints. The spoon dropped from my hands and I hurriedly walked to my purse to grab my phone. The name Mark blistered across the screen and I remembered that I had yet to inform him about my plan to start maternity leave as of today.

Hugo calmly asked to let him speak on my behalf, yet before he finished, I had answered the call and had the phone up to my ear.

Mark had informed me that the budget proposal was due by 12:00pm and that I absolutely needed finish before 12pm or the Meyer contract would be extended another 6 months. Hugo had listened intently and was able to pick up on the conversation, he spoke infuriated over my voice, “Absolutely no fucking way. Are you kidding me? Give me the phone.” “Listen Mark I can’t do this today. I’m starting my maternity leave as of right now. I just haven’t been feeling myself, and for my sake, I cannot come in,”

Mark offered to pay me a full day’s work, on overtime, time just to finish the proposal, but again, I refused. Mark told me that he understood my position and that he would let Jeffrey know about my leave. He promised to finish the work and assured me that my position as Chief Controller would be waiting for me when I returned. “Just one thing.” Mark said. “Where did you leave the fiscal logs?”

My eyes pulsed with dread at the thought and I remember that I had taken the logs with my so that I could finish them at home. Filled with a sense of underwhelmed anxiety my head turned toward Hugo. My eyes looked through him, I couldn’t bear to see his reaction as I answer Mark’s question. I managed to stammer out “I Uhm. Have them with me in my backpack,” I didn’t have to look at Hugo’s face to see his exacerbated expression as I continued, “I’ll drop them off to you right now.” And with that the conversation that had sealed my fate was over.

I couldn’t manage to look at Hugo, knowing full well I had gone against his wishes. All I needed to do was drop them off and explain the procedure needed to decode the logs; simple.

Hugo’s voice tensed and flexed, getting calmer as he spoke “You have to be kidding me if…If you think I’m going to allow you to go to work in your condition.” My words quickly lashed out “Allow me? You don’t control me. Ok. I am an adult; I can make my own damn decisions. It was you who wanted this baby in the fi…” the voice inside abruptly interposed itself between my words “He’ll only ever love her.” However, the words had already escaped my grasp to quick to take them back. “… first place. And I fucking chose to have it because I love you. I will not allow myself to be dictated upon by anyone.”

A single, powerful tear flowed down, drenching my cheek. Taken back by the overwhelming complexity of this situation I made my way toward the bathroom to breathe.

Several minutes of silence passed until they were interrupted by a knock on the door. His voice softly spoke, faintly through the door. “Things were escalating quick. I feel scared when we argue because I don’t want to make you stressed, more so, than you already are. I lost myself and I didn’t mean to be controlling,”

He means well, I know he does, I thought to myself. I’m doing this for him and I’m doing this for her. I splash some water on my face and opened the door to greet a man beaten down by a few harsh words.

Hugo calmly expressed his wishes to me “I want you to be yourself and I’ll support you. Let me give you a ride to the office. I know work is important to you and as a powerful working mother to be, you will be doing this in the future anyway,”

I walk past him and grabbed my backpack and fumbled through it to pull out the logs. I informed him that it would be acceptable for him to drive me to my office. My words lacked feeling and depth as I somberly spoke to Hugo. “You can take my car; I have the monthly pass that gets you into the parking lot,”

We entered my car and we were quickly on our way to my office.

The deafening silence broken by the hum of the engine and the growl of my stomach, I remembered that the eggs had gone uneaten. I turned the radio on and it only took a few seconds for the music to sync from my Spotify playlists

“I Hurt Myself Today….” The words rang true, as if no better song, at the opportune time to describe my state of affairs, it had to be Johnny Cash.

A stiff pulsating ache shot across my back, and fierce waves ripped across the tide that is my stomach. I wince in pain and grab hold of the arm rests.

Hugo turned his attention towards me and caressed his hand over my stomach. A contraction a rich painful wave that indicates dilation of the cervix. “A painful thing for you I can imagine, yet it’s beautiful.” Hugo says with a deep-felt affirmation. “A wave of life.”

He caressed my belly for a minute as he continued driving. “I get concerned for your wellbeing; I don’t want you to overwork yourself. How far apart are they?” he said.

I told him that the contractions have been sporadic at best and that it does not indicate that I would be giving birth soon, necessarily.

He maintained his hand on my belly taking every ounce of information his hands could process. He continued driving, eyes sullen and devoid of conjecture, he asked, with heavy lips and short breath “What did you mean that you only wanted a child because of me. Do you want Marcy?”

I couldn’t begin to understand the question myself, or understand the complexities of answering his question at face value. A thousand words jumbled in my mind and I could not sputter one out.

The silence grew maddening, answering for me. His face geared toward the road, overcome with expressionless thought. I could practically envision his soul disconnecting from his body before me.

A feeling sunk deep within and wretched inside me. Looking through the window I noticed the cars driving by and the people walking by, living out their daily lives, and I took a second to ponder that they too must have their own complexities.

I look back at Hugo, the same cold face I devoid of life, taunting me. We passed Rainey Street, and it occurred to me that my office is now two blocks away.

I gathered my thoughts, breathed in deeply and thought to myself; tell him something, anything. Just then I noticed we continued straight instead of turning right on Hartford Ave, where my office was.

A thunderous boom erupted with tremendous force that shook me into confusion. I could not escape the centrifugal force that threw me against the door frame. My body, unable to react, simply embraced the violent impact. The sound of twisted metal crackled, screeched and tore into the air. As the car rolled over, the impact breached the roof and caused an explosion of glass that clawed at my face. My world literally and figuratively turned upside down.

My sight grew dark from shock, I took in only glimpses of the scene from the pulses of light getting through. The long drawn out screeching, groaned to a halt as the car landed right side up. The ashen air filled the car blanketing the morning sunlight overhead. I opened my eyes to the surrounding haze and breathed as the smoky air singed my eyes and throat.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and attempted to open the door but I was unable to move. I took another painful breath of air and felt a wet and sticky substance running down my leg and face. I looked to my left, the haze pierced by sunlight, and I realized I also was. Something had impaled the left side of my body holding me hostage against the car seat. I managed to see Hugo slumped to his right. Caressed in the mangled wreckage the seatbelt across his body cut deep into his skin, yet it managed to keep him from being flung out the car through the open windshield.

I made one more effort to open the door, a sad attempt really, as I was barely able to lift my arms up as they weighed heavily on my torso. My body sank down succumbing to gravity. Three beating heartbeats rang in the distance, and grew softer by the second. With each faint pulse they weakened.

“Holy Shit! Mam are you okay? Firefighters are coming!” A soft scream yelled from outside. The heartbeats grew softer still, and were eventually replaced by the distant sound of sirens. I managed to lift my head up and I took one more look at Hugo, as I desperately searched for clues, indicating he was at the very least, breathing. I could not.

The darkness engulfed me.

The chirping monitors woke me and I found myself lying in a bed. The soft light in the room tore into my eyes and I could feel the fibers in my muscles tearing as I propped myself up. As my vision returned, I was greeted with the sight of several needles protruding form my arms and legs, all hooked to a central machine. My eyes followed a path; to my arms, chest, stomach, legs and feet. They were all there. I did not realize how I ended up here, but I was content to know that I was not seriously maimed.

My fingers traced around my belly and felt a rough jagged outline of a wound protruding out from underneath a bandage. With an abrupt realization I shrieked out, gasping as I spoke, “MARCY! MARCY! What is happening. My baby. Someone, help me.” My thoughts shuttered “She’s gone. Its al because of you.” The IV’s tore out under my skin as I thrashed about without reason, pleading out to anyone who could answer me. It took only seconds for a team of nurses to storm in and subdue me from my own actions. I was sedated and again was brought back to the darkness.

I awoke not knowing how much time had passed. However, this time there was a young woman tending to my wounds. I laid there, looked over to her, and gestured, clasped my fingers and beckoned her. She leaned in closer. I managed to find the words “My Husband?”

“Its Hugo, right? First thing; He that he is alive.” Her words eased my anxiety and she continued “Second, he is here at the hospital, Room 1154B. For now, please that’s all you need to know”.

I begged, “Please tell me. Where is my baby?” Taken back by my question; her face, twitched with remorse, expressed more than any words could.

She nervously answered and searched for words that gave her a reason not to answer me this time “Let me get Dr Anderson. She’ll explain everything to you.”

She quietly slipped away into the halls. Her reaction affirmed what I had already believed.

The room around me garnered no clues that gave me insight. I guess room 1150 is where I would be staying for some time. Room 1150, my head throbbed as it came to the conclusion that Hugo was on this same floor of this hospital. I forced myself to sit up, ignoring all of my body’s warning signs, pleading me to stop. I pushed past the pain and managed to rip out my IVs out without thought, and stood up off the bed.

I slowly stumbled into the hallway. The sandals beneath my feet crushed the floor as my persistent steps searched for room 1154B. My heart raced with each step and the blood pulsed fiercely inside my veins. It poured out from underneath my bandage and from the IV wounds, tricking down into the floor, leaving a trail behind me.

I continued walking forward and passed an open window, the moonlight shinning through illuminated the hallway seemingly more so than the dim lights overhead.

The reflection of the moonlight tinged off the brass sign from the room at the end of the hallway, Room1154B.

“CODE YELLOW! All hospital staff please be advised Code Yellow in Room 1150,”

A red light blazed in the hall and I could hear the sounds of people rushing toward the other end of the hall. In this confusion I slipped inside my husband’s room. It was lined with machines, ventilators, IV’s and a central monitor stood looming over the side of his bed.

The tears welled in my eyes at the sight, too much to bear until I could no longer hold them back. My lungs labored; I began hyperventilating as I straddled the side of the bed. I clung to the rail tightly, desperately trying to contain myself. All emotion, raw with strength encapsulated in the moment punctured a hole in my heart that sent me whirling down a hole of darkness. I caressed his cheek with my hand, moving slowly, over his breathing apparatus tenderly examining him. I could barely recognize him underneath the bruised and swollen mask upon his face.

Encumbered with desperation I cry to him “Hugo, My love. Open your eyes.” I lugged my body over the rail and nestled his side. I squeezed him hard embracing the light that flickered in his body. Hot blood trickled down my arms moistening the blankets on the bed, drawing warmth from my already turmoiled body. I grew colder in his embrace. And as I grew colder, I wicked the flickering flame extinguishing it with the bitter coldness of the blackened hole I had become.

A buzzing, steady beep, echoed through the room. His body kept in motion only by the ventilator. Arbitrary movement devoid of life, basking in the darkness begging to be brought back. An imitation game making matters worse, vehemently I kicked the breathing apparatus, knocking it down to the ground.

A few moments later, a team of nurses and doctors, ushered by a security guard stormed into the room. The guard swiftly pulled me off Hugo’s body. My head spun as it hit the floor and as my vision cleared, I saw the hospital staff assertively start life saving measures on Hugo. The guard pinned me against the floor and felt restraints begin to bind me. I was loaded on a gurney and rolled into the hallway headed back toward my room. His room disappeared into the distance. His cold lifeless body seared into my cornea imprinted its after image, hauntingly mocked me. After all, it was because of me.

I stared at the ceiling unwilling to move, this feeling like nothing I’ve felt before, slowly encroached over me. Motivating anguish consumed me, in hopes of devouring all memories of what occurred.

My breath already fatigued grew faster and shallower in this process. Tears rolled down my cheek, precious memories condensed inside reflected out expressing what was being devoured.

Each word crafted and expressed, sometimes without thought, used cunningly can cut deeply impacting others’ lives. My thoughts raced forward before they were consumed, I thought just maybe, if I had said it some other way. This would all be different.

“No” I weakly uttered out. If I had maybe said it to my boss things could have been different.

The dreams of what are, a shadow, of the realities before me, set forth by actions unable to be taken back. Create the world which we have said.

My breath slowed to a stop. One last tear escaped, sliding down my cheek taking with it all of my emboldened heartache. A sweet relief to greet the darkness with sweet tasting tranquil forgiveness. “I’ll see you in the darkness, my love,”

Dr Anderson walked into room 1150 and observed her lying motionless on the Gurney.

Already soaked with perspiration she jumped on the gurney and began CPR. Dr Anderson screamed out “Call another code goddamn it”. With crafted precision she worked tirelessly intent on saving the unknown patient before her. Each resounding thrust of her arms pumped glimmers of hope back into the corpse. Yet each failed attempt eroded her determination, until she eventually stopped.

Dr Anderson peeled off the gloves of her hands, angrily threw them down on the floor. Somberly holding back tears, she looked at her watch, sighing, as she declared “Time of death 0445 hour,”

The first phone call she made was to Dr Kao, who worked at the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. “This world is unforgiving. Can you prepare Social Services Prep for the newborn infant in NICU room three? I couldn’t save her mother,”

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