the longest night

Chapter 7
The longest night
“Sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me…” That’s what all the grownups said whenever Laura told them about being teased at school. She knew that they were trying to say words didn’t hurt. But they could! If some words could make you feel good inside, then other words could hurt you. Sometimes words can even change the course of your life… “you have a new baby sister,” “your father and I are getting divorced,” “We’re moving,” “I love you,” “I hate you,”
For a few seconds I couldn’t breathe. The enormity of his words felt like a hundred pound weight on my chest. “How…how far…?” I managed to ask when I found my voice.
“Well, I’m not an obstetrician but I’d say at least 5 or 6 months.”
I’d been to his office several times over the past few months how could he have not known before? More importantly, how could I have not known?
“What am I going to do? I…”
“Well,” the doctor said as he pulled off his rubber gloves and washed his hands. “I suggest you get into an obstetrician as soon as possible.” He reached for my hand and helped me off the table.
In a daze I walked back to the waiting room. Fred saw me and stood up. At once I ran into arms, sobbing like I would never stop.
“What is it?” he asked in a frightened voice. “What’s wrong love?”
“I’m…I’m pregnant” I blurted.
He took a step back, his face paled. “Oh my God, how many months?”
“He didn’t know, 5 or 6 maybe,” I answered, wiping my eyes.
“It must have happened the first time we…I thought you were on the pill.”
“I am,” I said in a horse whisper. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand how…”
He put his arm back around my shoulder and led me to the car. We sat in silence for a few minutes, each deep in our own thoughts.
“I don’t think we should get married,” he said finally. “I love you but…”
I nodded in agreement. I’d read it in books and see it in movies, getting married because you have to is never a good idea. “I’m not ready to be a mother, not yet.”
“So we’ll put him up for adoption then.”
I started to cry again. “Yes, I think that would be best.”
Fred dropped me off at home. I wished he could have stayed with me, but I knew had some friends coming over that night. I imagined his mom had dinner on the table too.
“You should try and eat something,” he said walking me to the door.
“Okay, thank you for giving me a ride.” I said with my heart feeling heavy in my chest. A thought flashed in my mind, what if this is the last time I would ever see him?
“No problem,” he said with a tired smile. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I tried to eat some cottage cheese, but I couldn’t stomach much. I think it was partly because I was in so much pain and also because I was so nervous about calling my mother with the news. She was still at the house in Wayne with her brothers. I wished that I could put off telling her, at least till after my grandfather’s funeral. But I knew that wouldn’t’ be a good idea.
“I should get this over with,” I said taking a deep breath. “Don’t cry,” I said to myself as I dialed the phone. But of course whenever I tell myself not to cry, the dam bursts.
I somehow managed to get the words out through my sobs. She reacted as I expected; shock and anger, but I think mostly disappointment. I was always the “good daughter”. This wasn’t supposed to happen to me.
“How far along are you?” she asked.
“The doctor didn’t know for sure,” I sniffed. “He guessed about 5 or 6 months.”
“Well, Fred’s parents have money. I hope they’re going to help with this!”
“They will,” I said softly. Fred’s parents, I thought to myself. What were they going to think of me?
I felt as though I’d lost everything and my world was ending. I had to talk to someone, someone who would understand and not judge me. My best friend, Selena, of course.
I called and told her my news. “I just can’t picture you being pregnant,” she laughed.
“Neither can I,” I said. For those few minutes that we talked, everything seemed normal. We were both just care free teenagers again, joking around on the phone just like the old days.
But it wasn’t the old days. I was no longer a care free teenager.
The pain was unbearable. I cried and even screamed for someone to help me, but no one came. I had never felt so alone.
I climbed into bed and tried to sleep. But the pain was so great, I thought for sure I was going to die. I watched the digital clock across the room. The bright red numbers glowing in the dark room. The pains seemed to coming about every 10 minutes.
I propped myself up on one elbow. That was weird. According to what I’d always heard, when the pain came at regular intervals like that it meant that you were in labor. Was I in labor? I called my mother.
“Mom,” I pleaded. “Can you please come home?”
“It’s awfully late,” she said. “I’ll be home in the morning.”
“But I’m in a lot of pain,” I cried.
“You think it hurts now,” she said. “Wait till you have that baby!”
“I think I am,” I insisted.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I think I’m in labor.”
“I thought you were only five or six months along. That’s false labor you’re having,” she assured me. “Take a nice hot bath, have a cup of tea you’ll feel better.”
“Okay” I sniffed.
I started to draw my bath water and got undressed. As I went to step into the tub, I noticed small red splotches on the white tile floor. In a panic I ran back to the phone.
“Mom, I’m bleeding!” I cried.
“Bleeding!? Are you sure?”
“I know what blood looks like!”
“Alright, calm down,” she said. “I’ll be right there.”
She arrived home quickly and we headed to the hospital.
“I’m sorry mom,” I cried, rubbing my thighs. They hurt almost as much as my back. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m a disgrace.”
“You’re not a disgrace,” she said with surprising calm. “Did the doctor give you pregnancy test?” she asked. I shook my head. “Maybe you’re not pregnant, maybe it’s your appendix.”
A part of me dared to hope she was right, but I knew better. I was having a baby, there was no denying it.
We rushed into the emergency room and my mom explained the situation. I heard her ask at the desk if she could use her visa. I felt a pang of guilt. I knew this was going to be an expense we couldn’t afford.
“Let’s get a urine sample.” The nurse said, handing me a cup. I’ll never forget the look of alarm on the nurse’s face when I returned with it.
The next I knew, I was whisked to a room, given a gown and hooked up to a monitor. There was the baby, a grainy image on a screen. The heartbeat, echoing of the starch white walls was the loudest sound I had ever heard. Until then the whole thing was almost surreal. Now it was real, very real.
There was a whirl of activity and a tangle of voices around me. I heard things like; “active labor” and “only 6 months along?” I began to very frightened, not just for myself but for the child I carried. How far along was a baby developed at 6 months? Would he be deformed? Would he even survive?
“Does she want to call the father?”
“Yes,” mom said approaching my bed side. “Laura, Fred should be here.”
I was handed a phone. It was about 2 o’clock in the morning, but I didn’t have much choice. My hands shook as I dialed the phone, wondering who I’d be waking up.
I heard Fred’s mom’s sleepy voice over the phone. I imagined her reaching for the phone by her bed, probably worried. Was someone hurt? “Hello?”
“I know it’s late,” I said my voice shaking. “Can I talk to Fred please, it’s important.”
“Yes,” she said sleepily. “I’ll get him.”
When Fred came to the phone, he didn’t sound as though he’d been sleeping. “I’m having the baby,” I chocked. “Can you come to the hospital?”
He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be right there.”
When Fred walked into the room a few minutes later, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my chest. I had never been so relieved to see anyone in my life.
“Well Fred,” mom said candidly. “Looks like we’re going to be related.”
“Guess so.” Fred responded, looking as though he still couldn’t believe what was happening.
The next several hours passed in a blur. I had never felt such pain. Mom and Fred stood by me, holding my hands and rubbing my arms. I screamed and cried and begged someone to make it stop.
A young nursing student was brought in to give me crash course in Lamaze breathing. “Look at me,” she said. “Hehe hoo, hehe hoo…you try it.”
I nodded and tried it too. It was easy until the pain hit again then I screamed.
“You have to keep breathing,” she said. “Breath through the pain, hehe hoo, hehe hoo…”
“I can’t” I cried.
“Yes, you can honey,” I heard someone say. Fred and my mom tried to help me by breathing too. “Hehe hoo…Hehe hoo..”
“Focus on something,” the nurse suggested. “That will help too.”
On the far wall across from the bed there was a clock on the wall. I fixed my eyes on the hands as they swept the minutes, hours away. It seemed to be moving unusually fast. Was it really 8 o’clock in the morning? Before I knew it the clock had shifted to 8:30 then 9.
“Going to be anytime,” I heard the doctor say.
“Is she going to want to see the baby?” a nurse asked my mother. “If she’s going to give it up it might be best if…” she added quietly.
I shook my head. “No, please I can’t…”
“Okay honey,” the doctor said. “He’s ready, push!”
As I pushed, I continued to stare at the clock. It seemed to be moving faster than before; 9:15, 9:30, 9:55, 10… then at 10:05… there was a cry.
“I’ve got him,” the doctor said. “It’s a boy.”
“A blonde boy,” the nurse said as she laid him gently on the warming bed.
I turned my head to see, but Fred playfully put his hand in front of my face. “You didn’t want to look, remember.”
I heard someone say, “full term…” and that’s when it struck me. This wasn’t Fred’s child. It had to be Mark’s. Once again I felt as though a heavy weight had been dropped on my chest.