Chapter 28 #2
The nurse pursed her lips. “The doctor will be right in. Stay calm, and I’ll get you a cuppa. Do you like it with milk and sugar?”
Stay calm? What was going on? What wasn’t the nurse saying?
Mima nodded her head. There was no use asking the nurse any questions—it was clear she wouldn’t answer.
The doctor would tell her what was going on.
But a ball of dread began to form in her core like a stone at the bottom of the riverbed.
This couldn’t happen. After everything she’d already been through, surely nothing else could go wrong. Not now.
She needed the baby to be okay. Needed him in her life.
There was no one else—no one had stuck by her through the hard times.
No one other than Edie. She hadn’t told Edie about the baby, not yet.
She’d wanted to see her in person, talk to her about everything, but when would that happen?
She’d begun to think that a letter would be best — it would let her find the words, give her time to mull over what she’d say, and she could send it sooner.
She knew Edie wouldn’t judge her, but would hold her and let her cry.
But no matter how many times she’d begun to write the letter, she’d never been able to finish it. It hurt too much.
When the nurse brought her tea and biscuits, she lay there dutifully, sipping and crunching on the sweet treat.
But inside, she was a bundle of nervous tension, waiting for information about her baby.
Every fibre of her being screamed out for him.
She needed him here with her, in her arms, feeding from her, touching her.
She wanted to hold him nestled against her, watch him sleep and keep him safe.
It was an instinct that swelled up from deep within her, and she was ready to do whatever it took to get to him if the doctor wouldn’t hand him over immediately.
She’d been in the hospital long enough to know that if she made a scene now, they’d simply drug her and tie her down. She had to play by their rules if she wanted to see her baby, so she remained calm, as the nurse had instructed, and acted as though everything was fine.
When the doctor came in, he checked her blood pressure and looked into her pupils with his bright light. Then he listened to her heart with his stethoscope and checked over her chart. Finally, he met her gaze with compassion.
“You’re looking much better. You haemorrhaged, but we managed to control the bleeding and brought you back from the brink.
You’re a very lucky girl. Do you know that?
A lot of girls don’t have the kind of luck you do.
Maybe you should buy a cheeky lotto ticket or head down to the track to have a punt on the horses. ” He beamed at his own joke.
Mima played along, smiling over her cup of tea. “Thanks, Doc. But where’s my baby? Can I see him now?”
His smile faded. Brow furrowed, the doctor stepped closer and took her hand in his.
His palms and fingers were soft and smooth.
Not like hers, not hardened by scrubbing floors or carrying heavy bags.
He’d never done a day’s hard labour in his life — that’s what Mima thought as she swallowed down the panic rising up her throat.
“I’m sorry, Jemima. The baby wasn’t breathing when he was born. He didn’t make it.”
Mima stared, uncomprehending, as her heart hammered. “What? No, I want to see him. Where is he?”
“I’m sorry, Jemima.” The doctor shook his head. Then he walked away.
A nurse took his place. She took Mima’s cup of tea and set it on the table. “I’m sorry, love. These things happen sometimes. It wasn’t your fault.”
“What was it? Why? I don’t understand.”
“We don’t always know. He wasn’t breathing—he was stillborn. You’re a midwife. You know how it goes.”
Bile rose up Mima’s throat. She began to gag, and the nurse hurried to slip a bucket beneath her. She threw up into the bucket with the nurse stroking her back.
“There, there, get it all out.”
Mima wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Here. Sign these papers for your discharge, and you can leave first thing in the morning, and never look back.” The nurse set the papers on the bedside table and handed Mima a pen.
Without thinking or looking at the paper, Mima scratched out her signature. Her head spun. Her thoughts had stopped entirely. She wanted to scream, to cry, to hurt them all. But she was so tired.
The nurse took the papers and tapped them into a neat pile, then slipped the pen into her skirt pocket.
“You know, it’s all for the best. You weren’t a fit mother.
How would you feed the baby, raise him? There was no one to take care of you.
Now you can leave here and go on with your life as if this whole unfortunate incident never happened.
It’s your chance to start your life again.
No one knows you were pregnant, do they? And now they never will.”
The young woman’s pretty eyes crinkled at the corners, and then she left the cubicle, pulling the curtains shut behind her.
Mima stared after her in horror. Her heart twisted in her chest. She buried her face into her pillow so no one could hear, then screamed at the top of her lungs.
She beat the pillow with her fists, one by one, until she couldn’t anymore.
She could hear them murmuring outside her cubicle, no doubt wondering what to do with her, if they should sedate her or let her be.
But she didn’t care. Let them sedate her.
Maybe then she wouldn’t feel this excruciating pain in her heart.
Maybe then she could forget what had happened.
She was all alone in the world, and she’d believed that finally, she would have someone to love her unconditionally for the rest of her life.
But he was gone, and there was nothing anyone could do to fix that.
The people she loved kept leaving her—it was her destiny.
If only she didn’t love so deeply, it wouldn’t hurt so much.
She lay on her side, knees bent up as far as she could manage against her still-swollen stomach, and cried until she had no more tears left to fall.