In life there is always a moment in time where you think the world has stopped spinning and in that one solitary moment you always stop and think about all of the terrible and happy things that have happened in your life. While I was smiling looking down into those two precious blue eyes I thought about two people they were the two most precious memories I have had and they were there for a moment and then they were gone.
My crazy pushy mother used to tell me every night as a kid "run into your room and quit dreaming like your heads stuck in the clouds and start on your school work I know you have a whole collection of it growing under your bed."
"OK mother", that was my answer to everything and I knew that she wouldn't be too worried if she got lost wondering things that could or couldn't happen in a million years.
And now sixteen years later I'm back in the house with the lavender smell of the linen closet and the ugly pumpkin colored kitchen with blackish brown tinted cabinets. And the annoying ticking noise of the old grandfather clock at the foot of the staircase. Dinner was always something to look forward to when you haven't been around for at least three years and now have a husband. I'm also in my second trimester of my first pregnancy with twins. Mom made duck the usual meal for this time of year. I remember dad not letting me go with him outside to get dinner when I was little and now I know why, he killed our pet ducks for what mom calls "elegant" family meals. With the duck there was a big heaping pot of loaded mashed potatoes with the bacon bits and all my absolute favorite side dish. One I'd been craving for weeks. After we finsihed eating the meal we moved on to dessert which was a lovely steaming dish of blackberry cobbler. Once that was done and the dirty plates were all still sitting at the table simply because nobody wanted to do the dishes it was time to talk.
"So, how have you and dad been" I said trying to break the silence the tension in the room was so tight you could cut it with a knife.
"Fine if that's what you would call it," she said outraged and glaring toward my direction.
I decided to clean the dishes myself. As I scrubbed away at the stains of blood left from the pieces of duck that dad liked not fully cooked. Just the thought of somebody eating meat raw made me feel sick to my stomach, and eventually I had to run over to the trashcan and well my dinner was prettier the first time I saw it. Mom never acknowledged I was vomiting over the kitchen trashcan. I heard walking coming from the hallway connecting the dining room to the living room and I honestly had hoped it wasn't my mother. Then I smelled her expensive perfume clouding the room."Amelia, how have you been really you haven't exactly heard from you in a very long time" said my mother admirably.
"Dealing with being a wife and being pregnant at the same time hasn't exactly been a walk in the park but I've made it through" I exclaimed.
We talked for a while and things were great just like they were when I was little but this time it was over money and making it by. We chatted over the economy, Johnathon, Dad and just whatever else came to mind. But when the topic about who was going to help me with the twins after they were born came up the tension that was there at dinner had came back and mom started getting mad."Well maybe you should hope that God gives you money and help because you obviously don't want it from me" said mom when I told her I was going to quit my job and be a stay at home mom.
"You were the one who said you didn't like kids. You told me that when I was a little girl and we saw a mother and baby strolling down the sidewalk and I asked you if you liked babies and you answered no strongly."
Completely and utterly outraged, I left the house and hopped into my old blue Chevy trailblazer that I had gotten as a birthday gift for my sixteenth birthday. I drove and drove and drove and finally made it home, pulling over periodically to wipe off the tears covering my cheeks and removing them from my eyes. I noticed that John's truck was in the driveway somehow he had beaten me home. I walked in the front door and took my jacket off and placed it on the coat rack, removing my keys from its pocket. I placed my keys on the table in the hallway and headed for the living room where the sound of Sunday night football was blaring through the painted walls. I walked down the hall and into the living room and I sat down on the green striped sofa. John was sitting on the other end of the room in a small chair by the window looking through the mail which most likely was of course bills.
“Are you OK?” Johnathon asked knowingly “you seemed upset at your parents place.”
“Yeah I’m fine I just told mom about how I’m quitting my job after the babies are born, and how if I needed help that I would hire a nanny.”
“She seemed pretty upset” said john slamming the pieces of mail onto the table.
I knew that those pieces of mail were just more bills like utilities and necessary bills that needed to be paid and I had to take care of them since I was the owner of the house and payed the mortgage. I walked over to sit by my husband and he patted his leg and I sat down on his lap and thought about how much pain he must be in from the weight of me and his son and daughter. I was exhausted from the day that had just happened and because of the two children causing me to have more back pain then I’d ever had in my whole life.
I woke up and looked at the digital alarm clock and it read twelve forty-two a.m. I raised up and sat straight up in bed and when I did I noticed more pain than usual for me. It wasn’t as bad as my friend’s had described labor pains so I decided it was just the usual pain for a tiny girl pregnant with twins. So, I fell back asleep again. I was wide awake again at two o’clock in the morning and the pain that felt like a knife stabbing me in my lower back was much worse now. I shook my husband and told him that we needed to go to the hospital and get things checked out even if it’s nothing I just want to make sure everything’s alright.
When we got outside and into the car I started to get scared and think that what if there was a problem or that the babies were sick. I kept my feelings to myself and decided not to tell Johnathon I really didn’t want to worry him and cause him to drive any faster then he already was. I glazed over from the passenger seat of my car at the speedometer and the tiny orange arrow was pointed at eighty-five. I suddenly grabbed the handle placed at the top of the passenger side door and held on for my life and the lives of my children.
Pulling into the corridor of the hospital labeled emergency, we got out of the car and went to access the damage of the pain that was causing me to worry terribly. The doctors placed me in a wheelchair and took me down a hallway going through double doors and up to labor and delivery. The doctors put me in a room that had blue and yellow flower wallpaper plastered all over the room. In the room, there was a small sitting area consisting of two small arm chairs and a small coffee table with a white vase with two yellow carnations placed in it. Near the door there was a curtain with pink and purple flowers, the nurses would draw the curtain when I decided to rest or just for privacy. When the last doctor came in and whispered something to one of the nurses she nodded and pointed toward one of the machines I was glued to. The nurse came back after at least five minutes of antagonizing waiting and injected some clear liquid into the tube connected to my drip IV fluid. In the next ten minutes I was under what some people call great drugs or as regular people say anesthesia.
I remember waking up and seeing Johnathon next to my bed and feeling a soreness and tearing feeling on my stomach. I looked under my dreadful hospital gown to see a huge scar from an incision made across my stomach, and then I realized they had preformed an emergency cesarean section on me to deliver my babies. I looked over to the sitting area and it was covered with flowers sent by relatives.
“What happened to the kids” I asked wondering why they weren’t with me and Johnathon or at least in an incubator in the room.
“Honey, there’s something I need to tell you, one of the babies was still born and he’s dead he died three days ago, but our little girl is still hanging on” Johnathon was so depressed when he told me the tragic news.
When the next nurse came in I immediately directed her over to my bed and asked her if it were at all possible to see my daughter.
“No she answered and said that your daughter had just passed and that she was very sorry for our loss”.
By that time me and Johnathon were already experts at bearing terrible news and we both leaned up against each other and cried until we realized that crying wasn’t going to bring our children back to us it would just make us feel worse and guilty.
We decided to have the children cremated and have their ashes poured over the baby oak tree in the backyard. Now I’m on my way home to go take my new little girl named Elizabeth to sit under the tree that way all of the precious moments will collide and I will remember them all as one great memory instead of one good one and one awful one. I will miss the twins terribly but God has a funny way of working he makes things happen that are bad but then replaces them with things that you would never ask to live without. The twins were there for a precious moment and then like a second in time they were gone.
No comments:
Post a Comment