Always You

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Always You Page 19

by Belle Brooks


  “May, promise you’ll stay with me.”

  “I can’t, but I promise I’ll try, Will.”

  Closing the gap between us has Will resting his forehead to mine. “I love you, Maybelline Isabel Connors. Just find me in the darkness if it should come and fight.”

  “I’ll fight.”

  “Good girl.”

  “Will, did the delivery of our special order happen? Did you get the—”

  “Yes.” He pulls his head backwards before kissing my lips in a way that still melts me like the very first time. When our lips part Will whispers, “I have the medicine and if you come back to me today, I promise you we’ll lie together under our tree and you can have the end you want, as we discussed, when you’re ready…the three of us as a family.”

  “Okay.” I nod, fearful of what is about to happen, but also hopeful. I’d never considered the thought of taking my life, or Willard assisting me to do so until the day he showed me what he’d been doing on his lap top. Now, though, it is the ending I want. I want to die my way.

  “We aren’t doing anything wrong, May, and nobody has to know.”

  “What if they find out you’ve done this, then our baby—”

  Placing his finger to my lips, he says, “Nobody will find out, May. I’ll be fine and the baby will be fine. Let’s not talk about this now.”

  “It’s illegal, though.”

  “It shouldn’t be. May, we already have a plan. You just need to stick to it, okay?”

  “But, Willard—”

  “May, nobody will know, but you and me.”

  Kissing his lips with an air of desperation, I close my eyes and picture our tree. I want so badly to return there. I just need to find a way to hold on.

  Doctor Brown pushes my bed down the hallway and as I turn my head to the side, I allow my tears to flow freely when I wave goodbye to my family who line the corridor. We had an hour together this morning, but not many words were spoken. I think each one of us is sick with worry of what is about to happen. Doctor Brown stops moving when I reach my parents who stand at the end of the line. Mum is trying so hard to be brave as she leans down and kisses my cheek. “Please, May-Day, please don’t leave me yet. Please, May-Day.”

  “I’ll try, Mum.” I control my need to sob.

  She lays her body protectively over mine and whispers, “Lord, give her back to me, please.”

  “We have to go, Lexis,” Doctor Brown says with a definite strain to his tone.

  “Love you, Slugger.” Dad kisses my cheek and places a hand to my rounded belly before the bed begins moving and Mum is forced to stand clear.

  “I love you all,” I call out when the corridor comes to an end and we make a right-hand turn.

  “It’s okay, May.” Willard squeezes my hand as I close my eyes and try to wash away the expressions of heartbreak that danced in front of my eyes, only moments ago, but they stay with me.

  Doctor Saunders smiles sweetly as she looks down at me. “We are very proud of you, Maybelline. How’s your headache today?”

  “Pretty bad,” I mumble.

  “Well, let’s hope we can get your pain under control after this delivery.”

  Clutching her arm, I will my heart to slow its beats when I say, “Do you think I’ll wake up?”

  “We decided this morning not to anaesthetise you, May. Instead, we are going to try a spinal tap. I think if we keep you conscious you’ll have a chance at meeting this baby.”

  “Spinal?” I gasp.

  “We’re hoping.”

  I nod, just as I hear Willard say, “I’m here, May.”

  Positioned upright, I ache all over, yet I feel cold and num. It’s the strangest sensation. Doctor Brown stands in front of me, handing me a pillow to hug. “Maybelline, don’t move. I’ll hold you. Just don’t move.”

  “Don’t move,” I repeat aloud.

  There’s a sharp sting followed by a huffing sound. “Didn’t work.”

  “Who was that?” I panic.

  “Anaesthetist,” Doctor Brown replies quickly. “Stay still, May.”

  “My hips.” I groan.

  “I know, nearly there. I know you’re in pain.”

  Another sharp sting almost has me jolting, but I keep myself still.

  “Didn’t work,” the anaesthetist says once more.

  The pit of my stomach flips and the need to vomit follows. Come on, May, you can do this, find a happy place. I do, our tree.

  “Third attempt,” the anaesthetist says clearly.

  “Stay still, May,” Doctor Brown repeats.

  Another sharp bee sting in my back has me wanting to scream out, “Leave me the fuck alone, you’re hurting me.” But I don’t. Instead, I grit my teeth and think of Will and me lying under our tree.

  “We’re in!” he proclaims with an obvious hint of relief.

  “I’m going to lay you back, May. Don’t you try and do it.”

  “Okay,” I breathe.

  I’m shivering. It’s so cold in here. The thin hospital gown they have me in offers zero warmth. My teeth are chattering loudly as I’m positioned down on my back.

  “I’m here, Maybelline.” I turn my head to the left, the direction the sound comes from, to be met by Willard’s beautiful blue eyes. “Stay with me. Just look at me.”

  I do.

  “Can you feel this, May?” I can’t see Doctor Saunders because a blue curtain is hung high in front of me.

  “No.”

  “Good. Okay, you will feel pulling and tugging, but you shouldn’t feel pain.”

  “No pain,” I mouth and then it dawns on me I’m in no pain for the first time in a long time. I’m completely numb. Well, except for this horrible headache.

  Listening to the beating of my heart coming from the monitors behind me, I sync my breathing to its rhythm. While I can hear this noise I’m still here. Instant comfort.

  Tugging and pulling begins to take place and as it does I feel light, my headache disappears and I begin to relax. Willard stares at me and I don’t dare glance away.

  “Almost there, babe,” he speaks softly.

  “You’re doing great, Maybelline,” Doctor Brown chimes.

  I’m not sure where he is, but I know he’s here.

  “You are, babe, just keep your eyes on mine.”

  I do.

  A final tug brings instant relief…comfort. I’m extra light now, although it’s short-lived because I panic. “Will.” I’m frightened.

  “It’s okay, May. Just listen. Keep your eyes on me.”

  “Okay,” I breathe before my body begins to feel heavy. Black dots spot my eyes and Will becomes fuzzy. The sound of the beating I’ve being listening intently to quickens and my breathing follows.

  “Willard.”

  “May, stay with me, baby.”

  The bed is crashing out from underneath me, or is this what I believe is happening, then the room spins like a merry-go-round and the sound of my beating heart becomes even quicker.

  There’s an eerie silence before I hear a baby crying…our baby.

  “Maybelline, 9:57 a.m—”

  This is all I hear before black dots become solid structures blinding me. I’m falling fast and I can’t stop myself, but I’m trying to, I’m trying so hard.

  “It’s a—” There’s a snippet of sound before it disappears again.

  “Babe, it’s a girl. Babe, it’s a girl.” Willard’s voice is filled with panic but I again lose my hearing. I can’t see and I’m falling faster as I gasp for air.

  “Get him out, get him out, we’re losing her. She’s crashing.” Doctor Saunders is calm, but demanding before there’s only silence.

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  “Willow. Her name is Willow. May, it’s Willow May Conner’s, May…” Will is screaming.

  Willow May.

  Beep. Beep.

  “Maybelline, NOOOO!” Will’s roar is painfully loud before I gasp succumbing to the darkness.

  The weight of an elephant s
its on my chest. It’s so heavy, breathing is difficult.

  “Get off me. Somebody get it off me.” I’m shouting, yet there’s no sound.

  Flashes of Willard dancing with me morphs into our tree, before stopping on the river. There’s sound now, the sound of rushing water. It’s beautiful…glistening.

  Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

  Where is that sound coming from?

  “Maybelline, open your eyes for me.”

  Something is rubbing up and down my chest. It’s annoying and I want it to stop.

  “My chest.” I hear my own voice. How is this possible?

  “I know, it’s hurting.” It’s a man’s voice. I’m trying to focus on it as I search the sunlit river.

  “Stop it!” I call out.

  “Open your eyes, May.”

  My eyes are open. What is this person talking about? Better still where the hell is he?

  Turning my eyes away from the river, I can see a silhouette in the distance.

  “Don’t you want to dance with me anymore, Maybelline?” It’s Willard’s voice.

  “I do, Willard.” I walk towards the silhouette and as I do Willard becomes clear. He’s wearing a pressed black suit.

  “You promised, May, you promised you’d try.” His expression is filled with worry.

  “I did, Willard, and I can waltz now.” He grins. It’s an odd grin because it’s fake…it’s not the way Willard would grin.

  “Here.” Taking my hand, Will holds it so tight it throbs. His other hand runs the length of my back and he presses himself forcefully to my front. “You promised you’d try.”

  “Willard, you’re hurting me.”

  “No, May, it’s you who’s hurting me.”

  Ripping my hand from his, I scowl and as I do I’m pulled away from him. “Go home, May, I don’t want to dance with you here,” he scoffs before laughing.

  Why is he being this way?

  Running along the lake I trip and when I do, I huff as my chest hits the ground.

  “May, come on. Open your eyes now. I can hear you. We know you’re trying.” The rubbing is again annoying as it runs up and down the length of my sternum.

  “Fine.” I tut and as I do I see a bright light and then a really blurry face.

  “Good girl. Welcome back.”

  “Back…” My voice is croaky.

  “She’s disorientated, but okay.”

  Who is this person talking to?

  It takes a while but the hazy fog begins to waft away as I blink fiercely.

  Soft blue eyes with many creases around them. A long nose, thin lined lips. Who is this person?

  “Let me see her.”

  “Willard,” I croak again. I know it’s him.

  “Just give her another minute, she’s a bit groggy.”

  “Doctor Brown, please.” He’s begging.

  “Hello, May.”

  “Hello, Doctor Brown.” I can feel the corners of my lips tugging upwards. “My chest hurts.”

  “I know it does, but we will give you some more pain relief, okay?”

  “Okay. Why is it hurting?”

  “We had to restart your heart, May, but we did. You hung on for us.”

  There are instant tears. My tears. Where’s my baby? “Willow,” I beg.

  “She heard me. She knew.” Willard is crying. I can hear it in his voice.

  “Will,” I sob.

  “I’m here, baby.” And with that, his kisses plant to every inch of my face. “She’s okay. Willow is okay. She’s breathing on her own and is in special care.”

  “Keeping her under observation for a couple of hours and we will reassess.” Doctor Brown is clear in his instruction as I gaze into Will’s eyes and thank the Lord I made it back home to him.

  As I’m wheeled into the ward the sound of clapping is very loud. So loud I actually grit my teeth from the noise.

  “Give her some space.” Doctor Brown repositions my bed. I’m not sure how many doctors would be as hands on as mine is, but I am so glad he hasn’t left my side throughout this entire process.

  However, my family are not good at taking directions and before long, they are all huddled around me.

  “I’m proud of you, May-Day.” Mum strokes my hair before putting her lips to mine and kissing me just like she did when I was a little kid.

  “See, I told you she could do it.” The elation in Dad’s tone has me trying to smile.

  There’s a knocking against the door. I try and twist my head in the direction of the sound, but can’t. I’m not numb anymore. In fact, I can move my legs around quite easily, but I am extremely tired.

  “We have a visitor. Just a quick visit, though.” Doctor Saunders is her usual chirpy self when she stops by my bed with a large enclosed crib. “Here’s your daughter, Maybelline.”

  “She’s so small,” I gasp.

  “Well, really she’s not. She’s four pounds and three ounces. This is a big size for thirty-two weeks. She’s also breathing on her own. We have her in here to keep her warm, but I think there is no better warmth than the one belonging to her mother.”

  “May can hold her?” Willard’s eyes are the size of dinner plates when he says this.

  “That’s the plan.” Doctor Saunders pulls open my hospital gown only slightly before she removes Willow and places her under my top against my skin. Laying three blankets over the top, she informs, “We call this kangaroo cuddling. It really helps a baby to maintain body temperature.”

  Placing my hands on top of the blankets, I close my eyes as the tears fall out from behind my lashes. Willow is so soft and she smells like…well, it’s not a smell I’ve ever experienced before, but it’s incredibly wonderful. The sound of shuttering has me opening my eyes only to be greeted by blinding flashes of light. The cameras are out and nobody in this room is afraid to use them. Willard places his head on the pillow beside mine and he strokes the puffs of chestnut hair on top of Willow’s head.

  “We’re a family, Maybelline.”

  We both smile and look at the camera Sylvia holds out in front of us. It seems befitting she’d be the one to secure our very first family photo.

  Willow and I spent five weeks in the hospital. I can’t believe she’s five weeks old already. I’ve really loved all the cuddles and visits I’ve had with her over this time. Honestly, I never thought I’d ever get the opportunity to have them in the first place.

  My recovery has been almost non-existent, mainly because I ended up with a full hysterectomy after the birth and plenty of other complications. Willow, on the other hand, has been doing wonderfully. No setbacks and not a problem to report.

  I’ve undergone every test known to mankind these last five weeks. PET scans, MRIs, CATs….you name it, I’ve had it. The good news is the cancer hasn’t killed me yet. The bad news is, they still can’t do anything to help me. My brain has been invaded by tumours, as well as my lungs and most of my bones. My kidneys are failing and I am currently hooked up to a dialysis machine. My liver no longer works, and I’m glowing a beautiful shade of yellow. The fluid in my lungs is caused, they told me yesterday, from my heart, which is failing and even though I’m on my last legs, I may get a few more weeks hooked up to these machines doing the work my body can’t. I know it’s my time to let go now and today we’ve been told Willow can be discharged, so I’m going home with her.

  Willard and I have a plan and even though Doctor Brown has informed us I’ll be staying in the hospital in the palliative care unit from today, onwards…it’s not the way I’m choosing to die. Shortly, I’ll be discharging myself and going home to sit in the nursery my family have designed for Willow, while we’ve been in here. Will tells me there is a lovely rocking chair awaiting me and I plan to sit in it and rock my daughter until just before sunset when we will all go down to our tree so I can say goodbye for the final time. I’m choosing my time of death, not cancer.

  As my morning cuddles come to an end with my daughter, Doctor Brown and Doctor Saunders along w
ith many of the staff, accompany Willard into my room. I can tell by their sombre expression they are ready to move me. Before anyone gets a chance to say a word, I kiss my daughter’s soft round cheek and say, “I’ll have my discharge papers now. I’m going home.”

  The sounds of the gasps filling the room has Mum standing from the chair where she was reading a book, to my side stroking my hair.

  “Maybelline, you need these machines to stay alive. We can’t move all of this equipment into your home. We’ve discussed this.”

  I don’t look at Doctor Brown. I keep my eyes fixated to my daughter.

  “I know, I understand. As long as I can take this oxygen home with me, I’ll be fine.”

  “May, you won’t survive the next twenty-four hours.” His shocked realisation has my heart sprinting.

  “I know, Doctor Brown. I understand.”

  Willow sleeps peacefully against my chest, and I still can’t believe how very perfect she is. Yesterday I asked Mum what colour eyes she will have and it’s very clear they are Willard’s beautiful blues. I’m so happy she will.

  “We are taking Maybelline home.” Will now takes the floor and before long, there’s only Mum, Willow, and me in the room.

  By lunchtime, I offer my goodbyes and thanks for everything he’s done for me to Doctor Brown. I also get to say goodbye to Jessica the receptionist from the Wellington Medical Centre, along with Doctor Saunders and my favourite nurse, Heather. Once word got out I was going home, they came in to see me one last time. I’ve been informed Doctor Brown will be coming around to the house to administer morphine and also to check my oxygen tank, making sure I’m kept as comfortable as possible. I’m grateful he wants to take charge of this, but I won’t be needing it. We don’t decline, though.

  As Dad pushes me in my wheelchair out to the car, Will carries our baby in the car capsule in front of us. It is so strange seeing him with a baby. What’s even more strange for me is not being hooked up to all those darn machines. The oxygen prongs still stay, though, only because I can’t breathe very well without them.

  It takes a long time to get me into the car. I am pretty useless at doing anything for myself now, but Dad manages. Mum is quick to climb into the back seat beside Willow. I’m a little unnerved by this only because I had planned to talk to Will again about what would be happening late this afternoon…I need to know he’s okay. I’m left utterly gobsmacked with my mouth hanging wide open when Mum blurts of, “Let’s go over when we are all going down to the park and how we give her this medicine.”

 

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