a polite smile on her face. This young nurse had adopted the “we” lingo that health care professionals so frequently used when talking to patients. It made Annie feel like either a child or an old person, weak and vulnerable. She didn’t like it one little bit.
The nurse’s name was Melanie. She was very attractive, with curly blonde hair, that was pulled back into a loose ponytail. She wore just enough make-up to look pretty, not trashy. She was tiny – about 5’2” and couldn’t have weighed more than 100 lbs. soaking wet. She had the type of figure that Annie had always coveted – narrow hips and thighs and a fairly large bosom. It was the type of figure that she always worried Eric coveted too. He’d dated a girl in high school who he had described as always needing a swimsuit top two sizes larger than the bottoms. Annie had always had the opposite problem and felt inadequate and dumpy every time she heard that story.
She felt especially like that now – like a beached whale – as the petite little nurse helped her slowly from the bed to the wheelchair. She wasn’t an invalid, but Melanie handled her very gently, as though she might break. They had just gotten her settled into the wheelchair when Eric strode back into the room.
“Hey there,” he said to them both, “Am I too late to help?” Then he extended an outstretched hand to Melanie, “I’m Eric Morgan, Annie’s husband.”
Melanie was busy collecting Annie’s things from the windowsill and threw a glance in his direction instead of shaking his hand.
“Nice to meet you. We’re moving your wife to a new room.” She handed him Annie’s purse and a plastic bag which held the clothes she had worn to the hospital. “Would you mind carrying these?” She was business-like and professional and Annie couldn’t have loved her more at that moment. The last thing she needed was to watch Eric be his charming, flirtatious self.
“Sure,” he said, as he took the items. A concerned look clouded his face. “But is she ready to be moved? Isn’t it kind of soon?”
“No – don’t worry.” Melanie started pushing the wheelchair toward the door. “As long as a room is available, we need to move her. We need to free up the birthing room. She’ll be fine.” And with that, they started down the hall to the elevators.
The words “birthing room” stung Annie’s heart. She knew it was too soon for the baby to be born, but she wanted it all to be over, with a happy ending. The unknown loomed in front of her and as hard as she tried, she couldn’t see around it.
They kept her in the hospital four more days. It was nearly unbearable. She felt as though she didn’t belong, but there was no way she wanted to go home. At least she felt safe there, the fetal heart monitor strapped around her belly like a big hug. She had become accustomed to the gentle, rhythmic beating of her baby’s heart. She heard it first thing in the morning and it was her lullaby as she fell into a restless sleep each night. The thought of going home without being able to hear it every second terrified her. How would she know the baby was okay?
Another thought, one that kept nagging at her, terrified her as well. The baby hadn’t been as active since she’d been in the hospital. She’d mentioned it to the doctors and nurses, but they didn’t seem concerned. They reassured her that the heartbeat was strong and regular, that everything was fine. No amount of reassurance could comfort her. She just couldn’t shake the fear that something was wrong.
There was a soft knock at the door. “Ready for dinner?” She turned her head to see Eric coming in with a bag from Burger King in one hand and a Dairy Queen bag in the other. Her appetite had all but left. It wasn’t that the hospital food was that bad, she just wasn’t hungry. Eric had cajoled her into agreeing to a fast food dinner. French fries could usually cheer her up.
“I got all of your favorites,” he announced proudly as he wheeled the tray table over to her. He proceeded unpack the goodies in the bag. “I got you a Whopper, a large fry and an apple pie. Last but not least,” he said with a flourish, “a Peanut Buster Parfait. A meal fit for a queen!” He beamed at her.
“Thanks,” she said quietly, smiling at him. “It looks great. Did you get something for you?” It didn’t look great to her at all; the smell made her feel a little nauseous, but it had been so nice of him to bring it. She had to at least try to eat.
“No, I’ll get something later. I’m going to meet some of the guys from work at the Outpost.” The Outpost was the favorite watering hole of Eric’s office. He’d been stopping there more frequently these past few months. She chalked it up to her not being able to drink or stay up very late and her resemblance to a Beluga whale. “But you go ahead. Dig in!”
Her heart sank. It was one thing for him to go out when she’d been at home, happily and normally pregnant, but nothing was happy and normal anymore. That had ended the day she’d walked into the hospital.
“What time are you doing that?” She had to swallow hard to get rid of the tears that were building with incredible speed.
“Not for a while yet,” he replied as he pushed the buttons on the bed railing to change the channel on the T.V. “What time is it anyway? The ball game should be on.” He impatiently surfed through the few channels that were available until he found the baseball game.
Annie looked at her food. Now that Eric was going to be leaving, she had even less of an appetite. Her heart hurt at the thought of spending another night there alone, another night of trying to ignore her fears. In many ways she felt safe there, but also very much alone. She knew that part of the reason she felt that way was because she was keeping so many of her feelings from him. Annie didn’t think he wanted to hear about it, so she kept quiet. Tears burned her eyes. She averted her gaze toward the window, away from Eric, so he wouldn’t see. He’d always hated it when she cried about anything. It was a sure fire way to lose his attention. Her throat ached with trapped sobs and unspoken fears.
“You better start eating before it gets cold,” his voice broke her concentration. “Aren’t you hungry? You’ve got to eat, you know.”
She blinked once and the tears spilled down her cheeks.
“What’s the matter?” asked Eric. He sounded totally baffled as to why she would be crying. “Did you want a Big Mac instead?” He was trying to be funny.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. If she said much more, all of the emotion would escape. “I can’t help it.”
He had one eye on the baseball game, flashing on the T.V. screen in the corner of the ceiling. “What’s wrong? Didn’t the doctors say everything’s going to be okay?”
“They don’t know,” she said carefully, trying to maintain control. “They can’t make any promises. I’m just so scared.” Now she turned toward him, hoping for some comfort.
Eric was now completely engrossed in the baseball game. He seemed oblivious to her worries. She looked at him tenderly, but the tenderness was quickly replaced with frustration.
“Did you hear what I just said?” she asked. The irritation was heavy in her voice. He looked at her, confused.
“What?” Now he sounded irritated too.
“Never mind,” she murmured, convinced he wouldn’t understand. She really thought that keeping her true feelings from him would help, that somehow it would protect him and make things better. Thus the pattern was set. Set in stone.
The doctors sent her home when the contractions had stabilized enough for their criteria. The only way the contractions would be be stable enough for Annie, was for the doctors to give her a signed and sealed guarantee – which she knew they couldn’t provide. So she went home, scared to death. The elevator ride was a nightmare. There she was, new moms all around her, bringing their babies home, and she had no idea what her future held. Would she be one of them someday? She could only hope and pray. She found it painful to even look at them, all sweet and rosy in their newborn glow. Would she ever know that joy? She desperately wanted to believe that she would, but a tiny place in her soul held the truth.
Eric