It is early December 2008. I walk down the long passage to the reception desk. Somehow I knew, but did not loose hope until the last minute. My heart beats out of my chest. This is really happening. A million thoughts go through my mind. I don’t feel like crying. I am angry.
She takes the admittance form and her facial expression changes. “I’m so sorry..” I don’t reply, I have no words. Just fill in the damn form so I can get out of here, I think. She picks up the phone: “I need to request an abortion for this afternoon.” Abortion. Isn’t that a bit harsh? She finds me hiding behind the reception desk. Thank you, I think, you’ve got everyone in the waiting room’s attention now. Oh please world, open and swallow me!
At the hospital reception desk I feel like I am under crossfire. “Was this your 1st or 2nd one?” the clerk asks, probably just trying to make conversation while we wait for the slow computer system. Please, I pray, don’t talk so loud, people are going to look at me differently when I walk away here. Half an hour later I am admitted to hospital. The nurses are extra friendly, I sense a bit of sympathy.
The journey home is extra long. He gives me the speech that I come 1st and he would do anything for me no matter what. I don’t listen. The only thing in my mind is the life inside me that is no longer there. Maybe I should have been less excited the last six weeks and told less people, maybe then I would have a hell of a lot less explaining to do now.
It is mid-February 2009 and time for a routine check-up. The dr stares at the monitor and his face lit up.
“You’re not going to believe this…” he says.
I’m 9 weeks pregnant.
She takes the admittance form and her facial expression changes. “I’m so sorry..” I don’t reply, I have no words. Just fill in the damn form so I can get out of here, I think. She picks up the phone: “I need to request an abortion for this afternoon.” Abortion. Isn’t that a bit harsh? She finds me hiding behind the reception desk. Thank you, I think, you’ve got everyone in the waiting room’s attention now. Oh please world, open and swallow me!
At the hospital reception desk I feel like I am under crossfire. “Was this your 1st or 2nd one?” the clerk asks, probably just trying to make conversation while we wait for the slow computer system. Please, I pray, don’t talk so loud, people are going to look at me differently when I walk away here. Half an hour later I am admitted to hospital. The nurses are extra friendly, I sense a bit of sympathy.
The journey home is extra long. He gives me the speech that I come 1st and he would do anything for me no matter what. I don’t listen. The only thing in my mind is the life inside me that is no longer there. Maybe I should have been less excited the last six weeks and told less people, maybe then I would have a hell of a lot less explaining to do now.
It is mid-February 2009 and time for a routine check-up. The dr stares at the monitor and his face lit up.
“You’re not going to believe this…” he says.
I’m 9 weeks pregnant.
I have goose bumps. I don't know your full story, but that is a wonderful suprise.
ReplyDeleteNix
(((HUGS)))
ReplyDeleteI also found that people in the hospital talked extra loud, while I just wanted to dig a hole and get into it!
ReplyDeleteWell, you still had a wonderful little suprise!