La Vi En Rose
December 9, 2012
Now, Michelle waits. Moving takes too much effort and Kim's not only helping out with the business, she's also willing to be a gofer.
Michelle hates asking for all of these favors, no matter how many times she's heard that she needs to relax, needs to rest, it's no problem, she'll be busy enough in a few weeks. Her last doctor's appointment was the worst, glancing at all the women with their husbands, missing Tony, and feeling naked without her wedding ring. After spending most of her life in a man's world, she's now surrounded by women. The few men in her life seem to have forgotten how they met. Bill is incapable of talking about anything other than the baby, Jack's busy putting finishing touches on the nursery, her world has been narrowed to baby clothes and lamaze classes. She wants this to be over, needs them to see her as an equal again instead of a pregnant woman who needs to be sheltered and protected.
She wakes up in the middle of the night, her sheets soaked, barely having a moment to breathe before she's gripped in a few seconds of intense pain. It's time. She grabs the phone near the bed and calls her doctor, sounding calm even with her heart racing. She'll see Elaine soon, her baby will be in her arms, and a new life will start.
At the hospital, her doctor has yet to arrive, and she wishes she was in Milliways. Chris reminds her to breathe. Hours pass in a blur of boredom inter-spliced with moments of agony. She wants Tony. She wants him to be rubbing her back, and stroking her hair, and doing all those things that she witnessed at lamaze. Her friends are a lifeline, but they can't replace the man she'd give anything to see one last time. She loves Elaine fiercely, she's a part of Tony - a part of them - that will never fade. The pain will be worth it to see her baby's eyes for the first time.
Michelle remembers to ask for the epidural, it still hurts. She can handle physical pain; it's the white hot flame of loss that broke her. Nothing can make the pressure easier to bear, but no one has to tell her just one more push or you're almost there, because she doesn't give up.
"I see the head!" She hears over the blood rushing through her ears.
A few moments later there's a high pitched wail.
Elaine Rose Almeida has entered the world.
Now, Michelle waits. Moving takes too much effort and Kim's not only helping out with the business, she's also willing to be a gofer.
Michelle hates asking for all of these favors, no matter how many times she's heard that she needs to relax, needs to rest, it's no problem, she'll be busy enough in a few weeks. Her last doctor's appointment was the worst, glancing at all the women with their husbands, missing Tony, and feeling naked without her wedding ring. After spending most of her life in a man's world, she's now surrounded by women. The few men in her life seem to have forgotten how they met. Bill is incapable of talking about anything other than the baby, Jack's busy putting finishing touches on the nursery, her world has been narrowed to baby clothes and lamaze classes. She wants this to be over, needs them to see her as an equal again instead of a pregnant woman who needs to be sheltered and protected.
She wakes up in the middle of the night, her sheets soaked, barely having a moment to breathe before she's gripped in a few seconds of intense pain. It's time. She grabs the phone near the bed and calls her doctor, sounding calm even with her heart racing. She'll see Elaine soon, her baby will be in her arms, and a new life will start.
At the hospital, her doctor has yet to arrive, and she wishes she was in Milliways. Chris reminds her to breathe. Hours pass in a blur of boredom inter-spliced with moments of agony. She wants Tony. She wants him to be rubbing her back, and stroking her hair, and doing all those things that she witnessed at lamaze. Her friends are a lifeline, but they can't replace the man she'd give anything to see one last time. She loves Elaine fiercely, she's a part of Tony - a part of them - that will never fade. The pain will be worth it to see her baby's eyes for the first time.
Michelle remembers to ask for the epidural, it still hurts. She can handle physical pain; it's the white hot flame of loss that broke her. Nothing can make the pressure easier to bear, but no one has to tell her just one more push or you're almost there, because she doesn't give up.
"I see the head!" She hears over the blood rushing through her ears.
A few moments later there's a high pitched wail.
Elaine Rose Almeida has entered the world.