In the poetry unit I wrote a poem that I thought was what the lecturer was after... it was in no way my own style of writing, and I was devastated when I got a lot of 'you need to fix this...' type feedback. I had put so much effort into it and turned myself inside out writing it, it was a real blow to not get the positive feedback I was hoping for.
Then along came the fiction unit of the class. As with the poetry unit, we had to submit a short story to go in our final portfolio, and the thought made me slightly nauseous. Writing 1000-3000 words is something I do on a very regular basis, but I felt nervous about the fact it would be academically critiqued....
After discussing it with my wifey, I decided that I could build on a scene I have already written (obviously one that doesn't contain sex!), or I could write some back story - something that happens in the past of one of my characters, something that wasn't touched on in real detail in a story.
Then it came to me. Or to my wife. I can't remember which. In one of the stories I am working on, there are two characters - Jenna and Lucas - and before the point in time the story started they had lost a baby, Sasha, at 14 weeks. I decided I would write the loss from Jenna's perspective, go into all the detail my story didn't.
THEN my wonderful wife suggested I could write the story from Lucas's perspective. I immediately loved the idea and knew that was the path I was going to take.
The draft of the short story had to be submitted today, and I thought I would post it to my blog as well. This ISN'T the final product, but you get the idea!
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(Untitled... so far)
Four different text
message tones rang out simultaneously, the melody of tones met by
loud cheers as Lucas and his friends were welcomed back into the real
world. No cellphone reception in this day and age? Surely that
qualified as a crime against humanity? While everyone else busied
themselves checking text messages and updating every social media
network known to man, Lucas concentrated on the road and looked
forward to getting out at the pub and being able to read the five
text messages he had received. A smiled crossed his face at the
knowledge that in a few minutes he could finally be back in contact
with Jenna. God he missed her!
It was Trevor's stag do
and Jenna had insisted that he attend. When he had refused she had
looked at him sternly, her nostrils flared, lips pursed and
figuratively and literally put her foot down, stomping it against the
kitchen tiles as she had reminded him that she was pregnant not an
invalid. Lucas knew she was right but he hated the thought of
leaving her on her own. The first trimester had been rough for Jenna
with the baby using morning sickness as a way to remind her five,
six, seven times a day of his or her presence. When she wasn't
grasping onto the toilet willing the sickness to stop, she was lying
on the couch half asleep or walking around in a zombie-like state.
Lucas had never felt
more useless than he had in those first twelve weeks of Jenna's
pregnancy. Every day he would leave for work at the last minute and
return as fast as was humanly (and legally) possible. Seeing Jenna
so sick was hard for him, but whenever he admitted how helpless he
felt, Jenna would remind him that it was all for a good cause and
then take his hand in hers and rest it lightly on her belly. His
hand easily spanned her belly and he impatiently awaited the day when
it wouldn't, and he would be able to feel his precious baby girl (he
knew it was a girl!) moving beneath his palm.
When he finally parked
the car and everyone piled out Lucas locked up and they walked inside
'The Thistle', a pub that had over time become their
pub. They had each had their 21st there, Rob and now
Trevor had spent part of their stag night there; Scott's birthday
party was always held at the Thistle. It was a sort of sanctuary for
them, full of many happy memories, and now here they were ready to
add to the memories as they celebrated Trev's last weekend of
bachelorhood.
Sitting at the bar with
a coke in hand Lucas finally checked his text messages, deciding to
leave the voice message for last. He smiled happily as he read the
texts from Jenna.
10.38am – It is so
boring at home without you, I hope you and your boyfriends are having
fun in the jungle xxx
1.17pm – Can you
come home and cook for me? I can't be bothered... this bub is making
me extremely tired today
3.42pm – Stretched
out on the couch watching Food Network, it isn't the same without you
here complaining about how hungry this stupid channel makes you. I
love you x
4.22pm – Going to
have a lie down, feeling a bit off... will ring you when you are back
in the real world. I miss you and bubba misses you xxx
Lucas
smiled as he held the phone to his ear so he could listen to the
voicemail left by Jenna at 5.46pm. The moment he heard Jenna's
panicked voice the smile dropped from his face and his heart started
to race as key words sucker punched him in the stomach. 'Scared'
'bleeding' 'pain' 'losing baby' 'ambulance' 'need you' 'please come',
each word caused bile to rise up his throat and his heart to race at
an unhealthy speed.
“Gotta
go,” Lucas gasped as he stood up from his stool so quickly it fell
over.
“What
the hell, it's my stag do! You can't leave, bro!” Trevor
complained. Lucas could only shake his head.
“Something
is wrong with Jenna and the baby,” Lucas snapped at Trevor and ran
through the crowded room towards the exit.
Outside
he ran straight to his car and then spent what felt like an hour
fumbling with his keys trying to unlock the damn door! Finally
sitting behind the steering wheel, Lucas forced himself to take deep
breaths in an attempt to regain some form of composure. It was a
fruitless exercise, the only thing the supposed calming breaths did
was make him realise he had wasted thirty seconds which could have
been spent travelling home.
Rationally
Lucas knew he shouldn't be driving but he didn't care. He NEEDED to
be with Jenna and would do whatever it took. A cursory glance at the
dashboard clock told him it was 7.58pm and he cringed when he
realised that meant Jenna had been alone, in pain and terrified for
over two hours. It was all his fault. He never should have gone on
the trip, he should have been the one to put his foot down and tell
her that NO – he wasn't going. If he hadn't gone perhaps it
wouldn't be happening. Maybe there was something he could have done
if he had been home?
At
some point during the journey his cellphone started to ring. He had
no idea how long he had been driving, only that every second he was a
second closer to being by Jenna's side. When he picked up his phone,
it was just like Jenna's voicemail, he only registered key words.
'Doctor Bishop' 'threatened miscarriage' 'gave her something to help
her sleep' 'get here as soon as possible' 'obstetrics ward room 4'.
Obstetrics ward room 4. Of all the words he had managed to take in
those were the words swarming through his brain. Obstetrics ward
room 4, Jenna, their baby. He had to get there.
The
sight of the city had never been so welcome or terrifying and as
Lucas drove closer to the hospital he found it impossible to stick to
the speed limit. It felt like his heart was going to burst with a
mixture of sheer panic and the immensity of the love he felt for
Jenna and for their baby.
He
silently begged a magical higher power to stop the pain for Jenna, to
keep their baby's heart beating nice and strong, to be able to take
Jenna – and her burgeoning bump – home the following day, to have
the whole experience deemed 'unexplained but resolved'. They had so
many dreams for their baby, for their family, and he couldn't fathom
life without those dreams. Or their baby.
Parking
in the hospital carpark and making it up to the obstetrics ward was a
complete blur. He had no idea if he had parked in a legal capark, he
had no idea who he had spoken to to get directions and make it up to
the obstetric ward, but there he was. The corridor seemed to be a
painfully bright white and it was eerily quiet. No one was there to
greet him, to lead him solemnly down the hall to Jenna's room... so
he ran.
His
lungs and eyes were burning as he passed room after room, the numbers
on the doors slowly getting smaller... 32 – 28 – 20 – 16 –
12 – 10 – 8 – 6 – and finally 4. Lucas burst into
the room and moved so quickly to Jenna's side that he had to wonder
if he had flown.
As
his lips pressed gently against her forehead Lucas could feel tears
starting to stream down his face, hot, wet, sticky tears which burnt
his eyes. Clasping her hand in his own he tried to send a silent
message to her that he was there, that she wasn't alone anymore. He
felt her fingers move against his and as he watched her eyelids
flickering he was again overcome by emotion, tears burning a trail
down his cheeks as Jenna slowly woke up and realised he was there.
There
were no words exchanged, only a look which said far more than any
words could. Jenna was terrified, he was terrified, and they both
knew what was coming. Lucas perched on the side of Jenna's bed and
when she moved over he lay beside her. The moment his arms were
securely around her he felt her body quivering as she started to sob.
Her fingers dug deeply into his hip, like she was clinging on for
dear life, trying to anchor herself to him... as if he could protect
her from the tragedy that was unfolding.
A
soft knock on the door was soon followed by the soothing voice of a
doctor who had come to check on Jenna. The doctor – Doctor Bishop
from the phone – introduced himself and explained they were keeping
a very close eye on Jenna and the baby. The words 'threatened
miscarriage' were spoken again, but the look on Bishop's face made it
clear to Lucas that they were no longer dealing with a 'threatened'
miscarriage, and rather were waiting for the inevitable.
If
only he had stayed home. Surely he could have stopped it? What sort
of father was he?
Bishop
placed the doppler on Jenna's belly while Jenna and Lucas clutched
onto each other's hand and squeezed their eyes tightly shut, neither
breathing or moving a muscle.
THUMP... THUMP...
THUMP... THUMP... THUMP... THUMP...
Who
knew a heartbeat could sound so melodic and heavenly?
“Record
it bub, please? I want to be able to hear that when...” Jenna
whispered, tears coming in place of the end of the sentence.
Bishop
smiled sadly and knowingly as he held the doppler in place and Lucas
took a sound recording of their precious baby's heartbeat. He didn't
want to hit the 'stop' button, feeling that by doing so he was giving
their darling baby permission to die.
“It's
slower, isn't it?” Jenna asked Bishop, her voice cracking as she
tried to fight back tears.
“I
am extremely sorry, Jenna, but yes, the heart rate has been steadily
decreasing since we began monitoring when you arrived,” Bishop told
them honestly as he turned the doppler off and wiped the wand with a
tissue.
Lucas
hated doing so but he had to ask what would happen next. As with
Jenna's voice message and Dr Bishop's phone call earlier, the
discussion was foggy with only key terms registering in his brain.
'Dilation' 'natural delivery' 'epidural' 'surgery' 'D&C',
some were terms they had once been excited about hearing, others were
terms they had hoped to never have to hear.
He
had to be strong for Jenna, but hearing about the procedure for after
the baby had been born was too much for Lucas. With Jenna's hand in
his own he slumped forward with his face in the mattress and was
overwhelmed by the intensity of the tears which came. They poured
from his eyes like waterfalls and there was nothing he could do to
stop them. His heart was shattering into billions of little pieces
and the world felt as if it was closing in around him.
That
morning he and Jenna had shared a very passionate kiss before he
left, he had then dropped to his knees and smattered little kisses
all over her belly as he told the tiny joy inside to behave for
Mummy. Only two weeks earlier they had seen their baby wiggling
around on the ultrasound screen and had been excited at hearing the
heartbeat for the very first time. The first time of many, the
midwife had promised.
Yet
there they were. Preparing to hold onto and say goodbye to their
darling first child twenty-six weeks earlier than expected. Their
baby wouldn't be crying or nuzzling at the breast, nor would he or
she be wrapping his or her tiny hand around his finger. The child
they had been so excited to meet at the end of the year would now fit
in the palm of his hand and weigh 'around fifty grams'. No crying,
no nuzzling, no moments that would melt their hearts.
'You
don't have to see or hold the baby if you don't want to', Bishop had
informed them.
That
wasn't an option. They may have been welcoming their child into the
world under vastly different circumstances than they had expected,
but regardless of how small their child was, he or she WAS their
child. Lucas wanted to know if they had a son or daughter, he wanted
to know if the child would look like him or (he hoped) like Jenna, he
needed the chance to commit their precious child's face to memory.
It
wasn't long after Bishop left the room that Jenna's pains began to
get worse. Lucas held her hand through each pain and told her to
focus on her breathing. He tried to be calm, he tried to use a
soothing tone of voice, but when the pains got so bad that Jenna was
crying, Lucas's whole façade came tumbling down. The red button on
the console beside the bed was pushed over and over until nurses ran
into the room and Lucas begged them to stop the pain Jenna was in.
Upon
suggesting perhaps she was in labour, Jenna agreed to let a nurse
examine her, while another squirted gel on Jenna's belly and began to
use the doppler.
Silence
filled the room.
There
was no longer a hoof-like THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP
resonating from inside Jenna's belly.
Sympathetic
looks were offered to them as Jenna gasped for breath, choking on her
raw grief. Lucas shook his head. No. They hadn't used it in the
right place. Try the other side. No. It couldn't be. NO.
“So
sorry for your loss.”
Urgent
looks passed between the two nurses. “CALL BISHOP NOW”.
“No
dilation.”
“Blood
loss.”
“Excessive.”
“Surgery.”
“Emergency.”
“Quickly
say goodbye.”
“Please
step out of the way.”
“A
nurse will be with you as soon as possible.”
His
baby was gone and now what, he was going to lose Jenna as well?
Lucas fell to the floor and sat staring at a speck of yellow cotton
on beige lino. Never in his life had he felt so alone, so terrified,
so useless or so petrified. He didn't understand what was going on,
only that their baby was dead and something was drastically wrong
with Jenna. It was impossible to breathe through the pain, or
perhaps he didn't want to breathe? What was life without Jenna? As
the room went black his last silent words were an apology to Jenna.
He had left her alone. Their baby had died. Jenna was having
emergency surgery. It was all his fault.
It
felt like fifty lifetimes before a nurse happily confirmed that Jenna
had made it through surgery and was in recovery. It felt like one
hundred more lifetimes before he was back at the bedside of the love
of his life. Jenna. He still had his Jenna.
And
temporarily they had their child. Their little girl they had named
Sasha. So small it was hard to comprehend, yet she was perfect. A
beautiful little nose and lips just like her mummy. Ten perfect
fingers and ten perfect toes, her daddy's big feet, her mummy's
dainty little hands.
Never
before had he experienced such conflicting emotions. The feeling of
complete and utter pride and joy, mixed with the most painful grief
known to man or woman. His heart burst at the sight of Jenna holding
Sasha, and at the same time it broke into a trillion tiny little
pieces. It was an experience no person should ever have to go
through, but as Lucas sat looking at Jenna and their little girl, he
was struck by what a hauntingly beautiful sight they were.
He
needed to capture that moment.
Holding
his cellphone as steadily as he could Lucas took a photo of Jenna and
Sasha. Of his two girls. Mother and daughter.
It
was something he had never confessed to Jenna, but since they had
found out she was pregnant Lucas had looked forward to the day he
could make the background picture on his cellphone a picture of Jenna
and their baby, the two loves of his life.
The
day he and Jenna became parents might not have played out the way
he'd imagined it would, and the idea of going home without their
darling Sasha was something he hadn't even begun to face up to. No
parent ever imagined they would go home without their baby... yet
there they were, getting horribly close to the moment they would hand
their daughter over forever.
There
would be no baby sleeping in the cot that was already set up in the
corner of their bedroom. The baby clothes in beautiful shades of
pink and blue they had purchased would remain forever unworn.
Their
child would never sleep in their arms, but he and Jenna - they would
always be proud parents.
*sigh*
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