Sequel: Dash of Reality

Full Life Circle

One

I am holding my daughter in the nursery of the hospital when a man in dark blue scrubs approaches us. By the look on his face, I already know what he has to tell me. It is plain and simple, my wife of two years is gone. She has been the love of my life, my best friend. We have been trying to have a baby since our wedding night, but the doctors’ told us just less than a year ago that if we were to get pregnant, that it could end in her death. Her body wasn’t meant to handle childbirth. But she insisted we try anyways. When it happened, she was so excited. I, on the other hand, was devastated. But she didn’t understand and so I was left to deal with it on my own. It was hard, going to every appointment and still being told that there was a large chance she wouldn’t make it.

“Mr. Toews, can we speak in the hallway?” the man in the blue scrubs asks. He came to stop in front of me. I look from him to my daughter who hasn’t officially been named and nod. A nurse suddenly appears to take my daughter away.

“I can put her to bed, Mr. Toews. You’ll be back before you know it,” she sounds so sincere. It is a little more than I can handle and so I let her take my baby girl and slowly I stand to follow the man in scrubs out to the hallway. I appreciate that he doesn’t want to tell me while I am holding my daughter. That isn’t how I want to remember the moment that someone tells me, out loud, that my wife is gone.

Before the man speaks, I study him. He is a doctor, now that I can see his face. I just know that is his profession - probably a surgeon if the scrubs have anything to say about it. His face has strong features. A well-defined nose, light blonde hair and more than a day’s growth of a shadow. He has probably worked since yesterday and then stayed to help save my wife.

“Mr. Toews, I am sorry to inform you that your wife has passed away. We have known since the beginning of the pregnancy that there was a large possibility of this happening. Not that it is an excuse or an apology. But we are very sorry for your loss, Mr. Toews. And because she knew this was quite a possibility, your wife already had everything planned in case this happened. It has been arranged that a funeral home will pick her up in the morning and the bills from her previous visits have been paid for. You have nothing to worry about except that precious little girl in the nursery. And before delivery, your wife asked her doctor to make sure this got to you if things didn’t work out in her favor. Again, we are really sorry for your loss, Mr. Toews. If you have any questions, this is my card.” He has a solemn look as he spoke and handed me the card and a letter.

“Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate all you and the hospital have done for us. Thank you,” I say before some of the tears begin to fall from the corners of my brown eyes. The doctor looks pained to see me cry. He obviously knows exactly who I am and to see me cry just adds insult to injury.

“Is there anyone we can call for you, Mr. Toews?” he leads me to a chair just a little ways from the nursery window. I suddenly feel restricted, like being further away from my unnamed little girl is going to rip me to shreds.

“I have people arriving shortly. If they could just be directed here, to the nursery that would be great.” I say once I have pulled myself together enough to talk. It came out more staggered than I hoped it would have.

“Of course, Mr. Toews. I won’t hold you from your daughter any longer. Let us know if you need anything else, Mr. Toews.”

“Thank you,” I say before he walks away. I let the tears fall freely knowing that I can’t go back to my unnamed little girl just yet. My wife - Ande - and I have been talking names for weeks. But we haven’t decided on one because we thought we still had another couple of weeks before the baby would be born. I have no idea what name was Ande’s favorite now. I really wish I had paid closer attention to that because I really just want to honor Ande and what she would have wanted.
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