Cry, Baby
one of two
The pain was agonizing.
In this moment she swore fealty to herself that she would here on out abstain from all intercourse in fear of becoming pregnant again and having to endure this pain once more. As if a fifth time wasn’t enough already. As these thoughts flitted across her mind, another high pitched shriek escaped her lips.
How could something hurt this much. She thought to herself. It wasn’t as difficult the past four times she endured child labor.
Her eldest daughter, Caroline, stood by her head holding a cool cloth, muttering assurances in her mother’s ear. Her husband, a poor struggling farmer, held her right leg up and open while the doctor held her left.
As another wave of painful contractions washed over her body she begged aloud for the pain to be over.
“I can see the head Lillian, just a few more pushes!” In response to the doctor’s shouts, Lilian steeled herself, held her breath and pushed with as much force as she could, screaming at the top of her lungs.
She was sure she was spooking the horses with all her pain filled shouts. Not to mention her younger children. In that moment she was thankful that they were rushed out of the room by her eldest son Edward, to a calmer and less gruesome sight. Her thought process left her as more painful contractions overcame her.
She pushed again, hard. To her relief it was as if something inside her had gave way and before she could fully register what was happening , the doctor dropped her leg to pull the remainder of the baby out of her trembling body.
Lillian was overcome with happiness and couldn’t wait to hold the product of her pain to her warm bosom. There is nothing that she loved more than her children. Relief washed over her as she heard a familiar cry. Her relief quickly changed to dread as her husband ushered the doctor out the door with her newborn in his hands.
Breathless, she spoke with as much strength as she could, “Alex-, Alexander, what is it? What is wrong?” She was faint with exhaustion and overexertion, her breathing labored.
Her husband’s facial expression quickly changed into both a regretful and a solemn one. “My love, the child did not make it. Our baby boy didn’t make it.”
Lillian started at her husbands face, briefly stunned before tears started flowing down her cheeks. She didn’t understand. She had heard his cry. Was it possible that she was hearing things in her state of exhaustion? The doctor had told her days prior that the baby had a strong, healthy heartbeat and that everything would be fine. They had already chosen potential names that were relying on the child’s gender revelation upon birth to determine which it would be. His name teased her lips as deep sadness came upon her. Oh my baby Thomas.
Caroline smoothed her hair and cooed reassurances in her ear, telling her everything would be okay.
No.She thought to herself. Everything would not be okay. Her sweet baby boy was dead. Stillborn. Her heart broke at the thought as she slipped into unconsciousness and tears left the corners of her swollen eyes.
In this moment she swore fealty to herself that she would here on out abstain from all intercourse in fear of becoming pregnant again and having to endure this pain once more. As if a fifth time wasn’t enough already. As these thoughts flitted across her mind, another high pitched shriek escaped her lips.
How could something hurt this much. She thought to herself. It wasn’t as difficult the past four times she endured child labor.
Her eldest daughter, Caroline, stood by her head holding a cool cloth, muttering assurances in her mother’s ear. Her husband, a poor struggling farmer, held her right leg up and open while the doctor held her left.
As another wave of painful contractions washed over her body she begged aloud for the pain to be over.
“I can see the head Lillian, just a few more pushes!” In response to the doctor’s shouts, Lilian steeled herself, held her breath and pushed with as much force as she could, screaming at the top of her lungs.
She was sure she was spooking the horses with all her pain filled shouts. Not to mention her younger children. In that moment she was thankful that they were rushed out of the room by her eldest son Edward, to a calmer and less gruesome sight. Her thought process left her as more painful contractions overcame her.
She pushed again, hard. To her relief it was as if something inside her had gave way and before she could fully register what was happening , the doctor dropped her leg to pull the remainder of the baby out of her trembling body.
Lillian was overcome with happiness and couldn’t wait to hold the product of her pain to her warm bosom. There is nothing that she loved more than her children. Relief washed over her as she heard a familiar cry. Her relief quickly changed to dread as her husband ushered the doctor out the door with her newborn in his hands.
Breathless, she spoke with as much strength as she could, “Alex-, Alexander, what is it? What is wrong?” She was faint with exhaustion and overexertion, her breathing labored.
Her husband’s facial expression quickly changed into both a regretful and a solemn one. “My love, the child did not make it. Our baby boy didn’t make it.”
Lillian started at her husbands face, briefly stunned before tears started flowing down her cheeks. She didn’t understand. She had heard his cry. Was it possible that she was hearing things in her state of exhaustion? The doctor had told her days prior that the baby had a strong, healthy heartbeat and that everything would be fine. They had already chosen potential names that were relying on the child’s gender revelation upon birth to determine which it would be. His name teased her lips as deep sadness came upon her. Oh my baby Thomas.
Caroline smoothed her hair and cooed reassurances in her ear, telling her everything would be okay.
No.She thought to herself. Everything would not be okay. Her sweet baby boy was dead. Stillborn. Her heart broke at the thought as she slipped into unconsciousness and tears left the corners of her swollen eyes.
♠ ♠ ♠
Nothing like a contest to get back into the swing of things.