by A. E. Murphy
“What are we watching?” I whisper as Emily hands my parents their drinks from a tray and moves onto Gwen and Nathan.
“I’ve no idea, nor do I care. I intend to do nothing but kiss you for the entire night until my dad kicks us out and we can go to my room and do other things.”
“We’re not together.”
“We are.” He flashes a smile, his profile lighting up as the images on the screen change. “We’re just on a break.”
I shift with discomfort, not because of his words but because of the pain that radiates through me again. This is just crap.
“Watch the movie,” I command, trying not to arouse suspicion.
I’m fine. I repeat this in my head as though it will fix everything. It won’t. Something isn’t right.
“Shush,” Mum hisses at us as Gwen tells Emily to put her phone away.
Emily huffs and puts it down, though only for a second.
“Vin Diesel is so hot,” I sigh as the camera zooms in on his amazing biceps.
Dillan frowns; I see it in his profile.
“Agreed,” Emily adds.
Dillan rolls his eyes to me and quirks a questioning brow. Then he mimes the word, “Really?”
I shrug, smiling a smile of mischief. “I’d do him.”
Dillan’s frown vanishes and in its place shifts a mask of thunder, his eyes almost glowing with envy. “Don’t. Tease. Me.”
“Or what?”
His envious eyes glower and his hand caresses my cheek with a deceivingly soft touch. “You’ll see.”
I can’t see. Not yet.
“Kiss me,” he murmurs, nudging the tip of my nose with his. “Please. Kiss me.”
My fingers trail up his chest and settle just below his jaw. I tap his Adam’s apple gently and then smooth my fingers over the stubble along his jaw. With a small shift in my position, I press my lips to his and allow them to linger, unmoving, fearful that my parents who sit just to the left of us only half a metre away might hear us and make us stop.
Fortunately, it isn’t them that makes us stop.
Unfortunately, my stomach gives a painful clench unlike any of the pains I’ve felt so far and I can’t fight the gasping cry that tears its way up my throat.
My eyes clench shut and I feel hands on my body. I beat them away with my own. The pain doesn’t end, not until it does, and even when it does, it lingers. A dull, murmuring ache in the pit of my stomach.
I feel queasy; I feel… this is agony.
“Tyler,” Mum’s tone is panicked. The lights flicker on and when I open my eyes, I startle at them crowding around me, all of them concerned.
“I’m fine,” I say, panting. “I’m, fi…. Ahhh!”
I shut my eyes again and my hands find anything they can to hold. The intense pain blinds me, not just my sight but my other senses too. I can’t think; I can’t feel anything but the clenching.
“I’m sorry,” I cry. “Mum, I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Tyler, please tell us what’s wrong.”
“Call an ambulance,” Gwen shouts and I hear Nathan start to speak, words I can’t understand because I’m fading with another pain.
“I’m sorry,” I cry. I know what’s happening. It’s clear to me now. I’m an idiot. “It’s too soon.”
“What’s too soon, baby. You’re scaring me.” Mum wipes away the tears from my face as she crouches before me.
“Are they coming?” Dad asks, his tone loud and as panicked as Mum’s.
“Yes,” Nathan replies, but again I’m stolen from reality by awful pains ripping through me.
It hurts. “It hurts so much.”
“What hurts?” Mum yells, tapping my cheek to get my attention. Attention I can’t give.
“I don’t know what to do,” Emily sobs.
“She’s pregnant.” Dillan’s voice silences the room. It comes just as the pain leaves and I stare at him, open mouthed. “She’s twenty-four weeks pregnant.”
Mum, without hesitation and in front of a room full of people, lifts my dress to expose my tightening stomach.
She just stares at it in disbelief. They all do.
Right as my water breaks, I feel a pop and then a warmth spread from between my legs and down my thighs.
“It’s too soon.” I sob. “It’s too soon! It won’t live.” I look at my mum, panicked. “PLEASE! HELP ME!”
“For goodness sakes,” Gwen snaps, practically shoving my mother out of the way. She’s in shock; she’s just gaping at me. Gwen, with a clearer head, moves into the spot my mother just vacated.
“You’re okay.” I see the tears in her eyes. “You’re going to be okay, but we have to get you upstairs and into the car.”
“What?” I don’t want to be moved.
I see my dad pacing backwards and forwards, phone to his ear.
Nathan, his face blank, moves to me and suddenly I’m airborne. He rushes me up the stairs but as soon as we hit the top step I plead to be put down. I can’t handle it.
“Gwen!” He calls and I’m lowered onto a soft rug in the lobby of their home. “It’s too late, she’s there.”
“What?” She comes around me and looks into my eyes. “Breathe, babe, breathe. You’ve got this.”
“It’s going to die,” I sob, overcome with grief and agony. The agony in my heart outweighs the agony in my stomach. “I want my mum.”
“I’m here.” Mum kneels behind me and pulls me back into her chest. I see Gwen give her a worried look as Nathan turns away from us and uses a towel Emily has handed him.
Red. So much red.
I start screaming. Pain and fear swamp me, holding me down.
I lift my own dress this time and see the beautiful beige rug, the same one where Dillan and I made love, covered in my own blood.
“Oh god,” I sob. My head feels light. “Am I dying?”
“No!” Mum yells. “Definitely not. The ambulance is coming and you’ll be fine.”
“I was going to…” I pant, leaning my head into her chest. “I was going to give it up for adoption. I couldn’t… I couldn’t abort. I just couldn’t. I’m so sorry, Mum. I’m so sorry.”
“Stop apologising. Spend your energy on getting this baby out safely.”
“But it’ll die. He’ll die. I… can’t.” My thighs press together as though that will help in saving my unborn child. “He needs to stay. He’s safe.”
“You need to do what your body is telling you to do,” Gwen demands softly.
“I’m really sorry about your rug…” She brings my hand to her mouth and kisses the top of it. “And your couch. And this… I didn’t mean for it to happen.” Another pain cripples me. I concentrate on my breathing and on my mum’s soothing voice in my ear. “We were so stupid. We didn’t even think about it.”
“It’s my fault.” Dillan finally speaks. I look for him and find him as he crosses the room and kneels by my knees. “This is all my fault.”
He looks as distraught as I feel.
“Don’t let him die,” I demand, grabbing his hand and placing it on my bump. “Stay with him, okay?” He doesn’t reply so I urge, “Promise me. Please, Dillan. Stay with him.”
“But… I can’t leave you.”
I growl and dig my heels into the ground through another pain, this one bringing with it so much pressure.
“I’m so scared.” I grab his hand and he closes both of his over it. “This is my punishment for all of the lying. Please don’t hate me.”
“We don’t hate you,” Mum says, her voice gruff from her own sorrow. “Just keep talking, okay?”
“Talking? I can hardly breathe. God… Mum it hurts. It hurts so badly.”
“I know,” she sniffs. “I know.”
Even though she tells me not to, I close my eyes. I need to.
They feel heavy. My body feels heavy and painful. “Placental abruption.”
“Haemorrhage.”
“Baby on its way.”
“Airlift.”
I he
ar chunks of conversations between men. I hear people leave. I feel the cold against my clammy skin.
I feel everything, yet I don’t feel a part of it.
I don’t cling to anyone but the desperate hands of hope as I push my child from the safety of my womb. I feel him leave me.
I hear them announce the beautiful words, “She’s a girl.”
But I don’t hear her cry.
“Breathe,” I hear Dillan beg, his voice so distant. “Please, breathe. Breathe. Just breathe.”
Is he talking to me or the baby? I want to see her. I want to hold her. I want to feel her against my skin but I can’t even open my eyes.
My body is lifted, or maybe that’s my soul becoming detached? I can’t be sure anymore.
Beep… beep… beep…
I hear my heart beating in my head. I feel my lungs expanding but I don’t feel as though I’m doing it myself.
“The doctor told us…” Mum begins to sob. I don’t feel her; I don’t see her but her voice echoes around me as though I’m locked in a cave, devoid of light. “That we have to say goodbye. But I refuse. He’s wrong. This isn’t goodbye. I refuse to believe it. I refuse.”
Beep… beep… beep…
There’s a buzzing sound, like a bee trapped in a glass. It feels like pins and needles in the air. My limbless spirit is floating, vibrating in this endless torment. I can hardly remember who I am anymore.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” Dillan sobs. I want to reach out and touch him. I want to scream at him to tell me about our baby. How is she? Is she alive?
I wish I’d gotten just a glimpse of her. I don’t even know if she has hair.
Did she ever open her eyes?
Why am I being punished like this? Why?
I can’t feel much but what I can feel is her kicks, her movements. I can hear her heart beating in my soul as if it were still linked to my own. I can feel the aches and pains of my body as I slept, annoyed at the discomfort yet comforted that it was to keep her safe and warm.
I failed at that. I failed at the one thing my body was created for. To house a baby. My baby. My daughter. My daughter who I decided to give away so easily without letting her experience the love of my family, or the love of Dillan’s family.
This is my punishment.
If she doesn’t survive, I don’t deserve to either.
I wake to sunshine. It used to make me happy. Now it does nothing but remind me that I’m not dead. Death would have been kinder to me.
Perhaps it would have been too kind.
“You’re awake again.” Dillan blows out a breath. I feel it against my cheek and turn my head towards him. He’s lying on the bed beside me, trapped between my arm and the railing. “Ty…” When his eyes fill with tears I shut my own, wanting to block out everything. Every single thing.
“Is she okay?” I don’t know where the strength comes from but I have to ask.
“First, we need to concentrate on getting you well.” Dad speaks for the first time since this entire thing began. I feel his hand on my wrist as I reopen my eyes.
“No.” I try to sit up but an awful pain ricochets through my lower regions so I stay lying down. “Please. I have to know.”
Mum enters the room looking awfully unkempt and as exhausted as I feel. In her hands is a toothbrush, toothpaste and a cup of water. She stops when she sees I’m awake and bursts into such powerful sobs my dad has to leave me to tend to her.
Dillan presses his forehead to my cheek to hide his face and I know the worst has happened.
“She didn’t make it, Ty,” he whispers.
“No.” I choke.
“I’m so sorry. She couldn’t take a breath.”
“No.”
“She was so tiny. So perfect and beautiful.” He sniffs, his voice breaking. “She looked like Ashlyn did when she was a baby but so much smaller.”
I can’t breathe.
He leans up and presses his forehead to mine. “I got to hold her. I held her until they wouldn’t let me anymore.”
“You got to hold her?” I shout, startling him. He sits up, surprised. “Ty…”
“You didn’t want her and you got to hold her?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t get to say goodbye. I went through the pain. I’ve lost everything and I… I didn’t get to say goodbye,” I cry, slapping a hand against his chest as my other rests on top of my empty womb. “How’s she going to know that I love her? How’s she going to know that I changed my mind? How’s she going to know that I want her?”
“Tyler.” Tears fall freely down his cheeks. “Please… you’re breaking my heart more than I can stand. How can I take this pain from you?”
“I want to see her,” I beg and look at Mum and Dad, who both stand at the end of my bed, looking as useless and as powerless as I feel. “I want my baby.”
“It’s impossible…”
“I WANT MY DAUGHTER!” I scream, trying to find the strength to exit the bed. “I didn’t get to say goodbye! I didn’t get to say goodbye. What if she’s waiting for me?”
“Baby, please,” Mum begs, moving to my side.
“No, just get out. All of you get out. Now. I can’t… I don’t want this.” I sob, my body shaking violently. “Why is this happening to me? Why has this happened to her?” I sit up, despite the pain and their protests. “Please… just let me hold her. If only for a minute.”
“You were out for too long,” Mum responds as Dillan climbs from the bed and my dad presses buttons on a wall.
“What does that even mean?”
“You’ve been in and out of consciousness for four days. You bled too much and caught an infection, sepsis. They had to… take her to rest.” Mum explains softly, as though speaking to a child. “But we can plan a funeral for her…”
A funeral? “No… I need to hold her. I can’t say goodbye to a coffin, Mum. I need to just hold her. Just once. Please.” I beg, desperate. My heart yearns for it. My eyes sting. My body trembles and aches. “Please. I just need one moment. Let me hold her. Let me feel her in my arms. I didn’t even see her.”
Dillan encases me in a hug but moves when my dad drops the railing, climbs onto the mattress and pulls me into his arms. He lets me sob into his chest, probably hoping I’ll calm down. I won’t. I don’t know how. I just need to see her. That’s all I know right now.
Why won’t they let me? She’s my baby.
Is this their way of punishing me because I failed to keep her safe?
“I should have just aborted her when you told me to, Dillan.” I sniff as the sobs stop and exhaustion takes over my weak body. “I’d never have gone through this now if I’d done as you asked.”
“Don’t say that,” he replies quietly. “You don’t mean it.”
“I do. Could the sepsis still claim me?” I ask. “If it does, don’t let them bring me back. I don’t deserve to live while she waits to be placed into the ground like dirt.” My dad’s arms tighten around me. “Because I treated her like dirt. This is my punishment. This is karma. I did this.” I look at Dillan. “You did this.”
“I know.” He doesn’t even try to deny it. His bottom lip trembles. “There’s not a second that goes by that I don’t regret how I treated you.”
“I don’t care how you feel. We’ve lost her because we were too young and stupid.”
“I know,” he whispers, wiping his own tears away on his sleeve.
I look at my parents. “Will she be blessed? Has she been named?”
“Yes, the hospital had a wonderful man come to bless her only minutes after she was brought in.” Mum tries to touch me but I just can’t bear it right now. “He was lovely. He had a companion with him who took…” She swallows, hesitating. I implore her to continue with my eyes. “She took pictures. Wonderful pictures.”
My eyes sting and I swallow, trying to remain composed. “Please… ask them if I can see her.”
“Hello there.” A nurse walks in, pushing a tr
olley into the room with a number of tools. “I… I hope you don’t mind but I need to take more bloods from you.”
“More?”
“You don’t remember waking up before?” Mum asks, trying to touch me again.
“Stop it!” I demand as the nurse rounds the bed and takes my weak arm in her hand. She plugs an empty tube into the cannula sticking out of my arm, just below the joint. “Stop trying to touch me.”
Mum nods, now also crying, and I wish she wouldn’t. I need… I want to be alone.
“I want to see my daughter,” I demand of the nurse.
“Sweetie…” The nurse sighs, compassion and pity written all over her face. “Her skin was so thin that seeing her now wouldn’t be in anybody’s best interests. I know you just want to hold her. Trust me… I know.” I wonder if she’s been through it, though I can’t unburden myself from my own grief for long enough to share any with her. “But you’ll only damage her.”
I can’t accept it. It’s so unfair.
“I need to see her,” I plead. “I just… need to know that I’m not losing my mind.”
“We’ll show you the pictures,” Mum puts in. “I don’t want pictures. I want her.”
The nurse finishes taking bloods and moves on to my blood pressure. “Have you got a name for her?”
“How can I name a person I’ve never met?”
She clamps her mouth shut and says nothing else.
“I’d like you to try and use the bathroom today, so if everybody could leave, I’ll remove these wires holding her down and help her into a warm bath.”
Mum doesn’t try to touch me; she only lets my dad guide her out of the room with an arm around her shoulders. Dillan lingers at the door, only for a second, his tired eyes full of sorrow that he doesn’t deserve to feel.
I don’t even care. I’m too numb to care.
I don’t deserve to care. I got what I wanted. I wanted this. I begged for this.
I’m prodded, moved, bathed, dressed and looked after for the rest of the day. I refuse visitors and instead spend the majority of it sitting by the window, my arms locked around my legs.
My tears are gone; I’ve run out of them.
My eyes are too swollen to produce anymore.
“Knock, knock,” Dillan says as he pushes open the door.