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My Bebe Linda (part 2)
My first glance of the new place was the white ceiling and I smelt bleach. I realised indefinitely that it was a hospital of some sort. Once I had full control of both my sight and body movements I noticed that I didn’t feel the weight of my daughter in my womb. Did I give birth? Or was this some sort of dream where you feel nothing and control nothing? Well, I was controlling both my sight and movements so I guessed I wasn’t dreaming. But why did it all feel so, imaginative? Like something from a movie.
“Bela, my name is Josephine Owen. I am your appointed nurse; how are you feeling today?” A young woman, roughly around the age of 35 greeted me.
The first words that escaped my lips were, “Where is Charlotte?”
“Charlotte? Oh, is that the name of your daughter? She is resting and don’t worry she is fine!” She assured me. I wanted my daughter and I wanted her now. I noticed the tubes that were connected to me; they led to the heart monitor machine and some led to the drip. I panicked; what the hell was wrong with me? All I remember was the excruciating pain in my lower abdomen and the rough silhouette’s of the medics taking me to the ambulance, but nothing from then on.
“So, back to the question,” Josephine smiled reluctantly. “How are you today?”
I cringed violently. “Not as good as I thought I would be! Josephine, can you bring me my daughter?”
Her smile faded. “Im sorry, I’m not allowed to do this at this very moment; but at a later time I think that bringing Charlotte would be ok.”
I grimaced. That was definitely not good enough!
“Why are you not allowed to? Has there been a complication?”
“No I assure you, she is perfectly healthy. But I believe you are not in a good enough condition to see her. Your heart is incredibly weak, and could possibly give out any minute. We must take extreme caution with you.” Replied Josephine, the nurse who thought-I-was-frail-and-could-break-any-moment-even-though-I-was-much-stronger-than-that.
“I want to see Charlotte, now!”
“I am so sorry Bela, I really am. But there is no way I can allow that.”
At least I tried, but that turned out to be no use.
After 8 hours of unbelievable waiting and fidgeting, I finally got to see my baby girl. The nurse from the man next to me walked over followed by another nurse who held the child I had been so desperate to see. She was wrapped in blankets, which made it impossibly hard to see her, and the nurse grasped her tight as if she wanted no-one but herself to touch her. Well, that was definitely not going to happen, for she was mine and only mine.
“I think, Blair, that Bela has the right to see her daughter, if you may!” She nudged the nurse holding my angel and smiled tightly. Blair unwrapped some of the blanket which covered Charlotte’s body and a head was visible. As Blair bent down I finally saw the beauty in which Charlotte had so rightfully possessed. I gasped in the shock of my own flesh and blood. She was so beautiful, and so elegant, it was like looking at a Greek goddess- her beauty really did blind me. I felt the unwanted tears roll down my cold cheeks and drip onto my hospital gown. This was the most important moment in my whole life. Oh, if only David were here to see our beautiful daughter, but that was better said then done. David was probably with his new fiancée, somewhere in Brisbane, and I, alone in a hospital somewhere in Budgewoi, New South Wales. In one sense, I wasn’t entirely alone, in fact I had my daughter and the nurses around, but I didn’t have my other half. I really missed David, even though I knew that he most certainly did not miss me. This made me cry, especially when I spent a certain amount of time thinking about it. One day, perhaps, Charlotte would venture off into the world and seek out her father, but later being disappointed and slightly upset that he didn’t want to see her- or hear from her. But who cared about the future, when now I had the present to worry about. Who was going to help me change those awful diapers? And who was going to aid me in waking up in the middle of the night to feed my precious little angel? And then an awful thought came to mind, one that made me ashamed to have thought about it. Foster care. What if I gave away my only love to a family whom I did not know, and they were to take care of her? Once again, I sensed the tears escaping my eyes and rolling down my cheeks. Was it selfish to think like that? She had no father and then she would have no mother, which would be selfish indeed. And then I felt it; the pain in my chest- growing and growing like there was no tomorrow. I gasped, out of breath and tried to mouth the words ‘Help me’ but all I got out was a small puff of air. I reached for the red ‘help’ button to my left, but couldn’t manage. Charlotte lay in her small crib next to my hospital bed, looking at me with those wondering brown eyes. I loved her more than anything, I told myself, she was more than my love; she was everything. And there she lay, not knowing what was happening to her mother, just kicking her legs up and down in a trance-kind-of-motion. I writhed in pain as another surge of stabbing pain inched through my body. I was alone, again, and unable to do anything about my upcoming death. I managed, with the amount of strength it took, to gasp out loudly, “HELP!” and the quickening movement of footsteps that followed was drowned out by my last heartbeats on the monitor, beep-beep-beeeeeeeeeeeeep………..
…………flat line. “Date and time of death: November 25th 1994, 15:37.”
Death seemed better than what I had before.