But am I being too irrational? What if the child hates me for forcing her to live a mother-less life? But what if I am not a good mother, and I am saving her from many troubles of having to deal with me? The doctor kept referring to her as a ‘fetus’. To him it is not my daughter. The tone of detachment in his voice makes me skeptic of my determination. It is more important for me to be treated at this moment. Of course, a new fetus can be created again any time. Any time? I had to wait for ten years for this joy, and no matter what, no one can take the place of the first fetus. Oh God! Why am I referring to her as a ‘fetus’? She is my daughter! My little baby girl! Oh God no, what was I thinking? It is three versus one. I cannot let my will stagger. Otherwise they will win! The monsters will win!
Ouch! That pain… it was back! I shift my weight to my left side, and wait for it to subdue. Usually, my pains reduce when I change the position of my body. At least, my back pains reduce. Otherwise, I always have a constant throbbing pain in my upper right quadrant due to that stone. But that is not my concern right now. Why is the pain not subduing? Oh my God … could it be … what is the time? 12:36! Okay wow, almost five minutes apart! I am having my labor contractions! But wait, what if it is one of the false contractions? Okay, okay, don’t get excited … excitement is unhealthy for the baby. I need to consult the doctor: “Err… I think I am having my contractions. I had one sharp pain about five minutes ago, and now I have a back cramp again.”
I think a look of excitement passed over his face, as his eyes dilated for a fraction of a second, but that expression vanished so soon, to be taken over by an expression of seriousness, that I am afraid, I might be wrong too. Swiftly, one hand extended out towards a small timer, and the other was used to fix his glasses which had been perched on the tip of his nose. “Get delivery room number 6 ready” his, otherwise monotonous and meek voice, boomed in authoritative command as he addressed the nurse, before he turned back to my parents with a much regained composure, “there is still some hope that both the fetus and the patient can be changed. The room is being prepared, and in case, there are not fake contractions, they fetus can be delivered, and the mother will also be saved. Now, you must understand, that it is a premature baby, so it will have to spend some days in the hospital, because, in all probability, it will be malnourished and weak. If the delivery is done immediately, then the complications can be reduced, and hence no time can be wasted. Now Ms. Perez, the moment you get your next contraction, you must inform me. Right now, the timer reads a little above four minutes. If you get a contraction within the next one minute, and if it last for about thirty to forty seconds, then be rest assured that we still have a chance in …” He stopped as my face squinted up in pain, and I banged on the table, as an indication of the initiation of my next contraction.
Oh good Lord, I cannot imagine this is even happening. We might actually be saved. Now, for the more important part. All that is left, is to check whether my next contraction lasts between thirty to forty seconds. I waited with my breathing getting louder and faster, with my parents’ bated breaths acting as a foil to mine, as the doctor began counting the time in multiples of five as the seconds passed: five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five.
Ouch! That pain… it was back! I shift my weight to my left side, and wait for it to subdue. Usually, my pains reduce when I change the position of my body. At least, my back pains reduce. Otherwise, I always have a constant throbbing pain in my upper right quadrant due to that stone. But that is not my concern right now. Why is the pain not subduing? Oh my God … could it be … what is the time? 12:36! Okay wow, almost five minutes apart! I am having my labor contractions! But wait, what if it is one of the false contractions? Okay, okay, don’t get excited … excitement is unhealthy for the baby. I need to consult the doctor: “Err… I think I am having my contractions. I had one sharp pain about five minutes ago, and now I have a back cramp again.”
I think a look of excitement passed over his face, as his eyes dilated for a fraction of a second, but that expression vanished so soon, to be taken over by an expression of seriousness, that I am afraid, I might be wrong too. Swiftly, one hand extended out towards a small timer, and the other was used to fix his glasses which had been perched on the tip of his nose. “Get delivery room number 6 ready” his, otherwise monotonous and meek voice, boomed in authoritative command as he addressed the nurse, before he turned back to my parents with a much regained composure, “there is still some hope that both the fetus and the patient can be changed. The room is being prepared, and in case, there are not fake contractions, they fetus can be delivered, and the mother will also be saved. Now, you must understand, that it is a premature baby, so it will have to spend some days in the hospital, because, in all probability, it will be malnourished and weak. If the delivery is done immediately, then the complications can be reduced, and hence no time can be wasted. Now Ms. Perez, the moment you get your next contraction, you must inform me. Right now, the timer reads a little above four minutes. If you get a contraction within the next one minute, and if it last for about thirty to forty seconds, then be rest assured that we still have a chance in …” He stopped as my face squinted up in pain, and I banged on the table, as an indication of the initiation of my next contraction.
Oh good Lord, I cannot imagine this is even happening. We might actually be saved. Now, for the more important part. All that is left, is to check whether my next contraction lasts between thirty to forty seconds. I waited with my breathing getting louder and faster, with my parents’ bated breaths acting as a foil to mine, as the doctor began counting the time in multiples of five as the seconds passed: five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five.
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