River Rat
Worse
Not able to walk. Not able to use my legs at all. No more swimming. Not at all. I couldn't be as independent anymore. I couldn't run away from my problems anymore.
I sat there, soaking this all in. They'd just run some extra tests on me, making sure that everything else was alright. I was awaiting the results. Nothing could be worse than not being able to walk. Nothing.
The doctor came back in, looking very grim. I shot him a confused look, momentarily distracted from my thoughts.
"Everything okay?" I asked him, not taking my eyes away from his pacing body.
"When was the last time you had sex, Ms. Paul?" he asked me, looking only at the floor.
I thought it through in my head. It was for Ethan and my six month anniversary. "Two months ago," I finally said. The doctor shook his head at my response. "What is it?" I asked.
"I'm afraid I have bad news," he looked at me then, he eyes were full of sadness.
"Nothing could be worse than not being able to walk," I told him, echoing my thoughts from earlier.
"I'm afraid you may be wrong on this one, Ms. Paul. You see, your body was not meant to be hit by an airbag. You don't weigh enough and the impact ... well," he said, obviously beating around the bush.
"What?" I asked impatiently.
"Melissa, you were pregnant," he finally said.
"Were?"
"The impact killed your unborn baby instantly."
At first I was just thankful he didn't say fetus. Then, the situation itself became clear in my head. If I wasn't in that car crash, I'd be a mother. I'd have a baby. I felt the tears coming faster than I could think.
I'd never wanted to be a mother. So why was I so upset about it?
A baby. I touched my stomach gently, knowing it carried no babies.
Not anymore.
I sat there, soaking this all in. They'd just run some extra tests on me, making sure that everything else was alright. I was awaiting the results. Nothing could be worse than not being able to walk. Nothing.
The doctor came back in, looking very grim. I shot him a confused look, momentarily distracted from my thoughts.
"Everything okay?" I asked him, not taking my eyes away from his pacing body.
"When was the last time you had sex, Ms. Paul?" he asked me, looking only at the floor.
I thought it through in my head. It was for Ethan and my six month anniversary. "Two months ago," I finally said. The doctor shook his head at my response. "What is it?" I asked.
"I'm afraid I have bad news," he looked at me then, he eyes were full of sadness.
"Nothing could be worse than not being able to walk," I told him, echoing my thoughts from earlier.
"I'm afraid you may be wrong on this one, Ms. Paul. You see, your body was not meant to be hit by an airbag. You don't weigh enough and the impact ... well," he said, obviously beating around the bush.
"What?" I asked impatiently.
"Melissa, you were pregnant," he finally said.
"Were?"
"The impact killed your unborn baby instantly."
At first I was just thankful he didn't say fetus. Then, the situation itself became clear in my head. If I wasn't in that car crash, I'd be a mother. I'd have a baby. I felt the tears coming faster than I could think.
I'd never wanted to be a mother. So why was I so upset about it?
A baby. I touched my stomach gently, knowing it carried no babies.
Not anymore.