Nobody's Home

Good news is...I'm not dead...the bad news...I'm pregnant and have just suffered a threatened miscarriage...fan-bloody-tastic. Kill me, kill me now. They say I’m killing my baby with the drug abuse and the excessive amounts of alcohol, but to be honest I really don’t care, it’s probably best it’s dead, what use am I to it. I look around the room; it perfectly mirrors that of the one I spent 8 months comatose back in Sunnydale. The IV drip they have me on stands on my right whilst I hear the lullaby of the heart machine on my left, I lean backwards and look at the tiled ceiling and hope I’ll die in my sleep.

I wake up the next morning…unfortunately, the nurse is checking the machine, I turn over to look at her and ask when I can go. She taps my IV drip and looks at me.
“You have to stay until your cervix closes up again” she tells me softly.
“What’s a cervix?” I ask her confused.
“The small opening between your uterus and vagina” she says condescendingly. She turns on her heel and heads out into the hallway.
I sit up in the bed and look around for something to keep me occupied…the holy bible ha what a joke. I stand up and the machine behind me starts beeping, a nurse hurries into the room.
“What are you doing?!” She asks me frantically.
“I need to go to the toilet” I tell her, she tuts loudly and comes over and hands me a bedpan. I look down at it in disgust.
“I’m not pissing into one of them” I laugh at her.
“Well you can’t go to the toilet in case you get an infection” She gently pushes me back onto the bed.
“Well if you cleaned them more often I wouldn’t catch an infection” I argue and push her away and stand up again. She sighs and tells me she will be right back. I lean against the bed slightly light headed.

A doctor comes into the room and checks my machines. I exhale noisily and wait like a good girl to be taken to the toilet. He turns to the nurse and whispers to her.
“Nurse Franklin will take you to the toilet Faith, you will need to change your sanitary towel she will give you a clean one” He looks me up and down and then walks out the room.
“Come on you” the nurse tells me and takes the drip out of my hand and takes the monitors off my chest. I slowly walk with her to the toilets, she gives me a clean pad and I sidle into the small cubicle. I pull the clean sterile pants they have given me down around my knees and carefully pull off the bloodied pad; I wrap it in toilet paper and stick it in the bin beside me. I take the new one and position it on the soft cotton; I wipe myself dry with the toilet tissue and look at the small specks of blood on the tissue. I drop it into the toilet and pull my pants up and flush the toilet. I wash my hands thoroughly as if they’re covered in dirt only I can see. The nurse hurries me up and practically drags me back to my room, I tell her I’m bored and she walks off to find me some magazines.
She comes back half an hour later with some mother to be magazines. I look down in disgust at them.
“Oh gee thanks” I say sarcastically. I push them away and turn on my side with my back to the door, I hear her leave and I close my eyes and think about what I’m going to do.

I awake the next day feeling sick I look around for the bed pan but don’t find it in time, I climb out of bed quickly and throw up on the cold tiled floor, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and sit against the bed, the familiar alarm goes off on the heart machine and a nurse comes running. She stops quickly when she sees the sick and tells me not to worry and to climb back into bed. A janitor is called and he cleans up my mess, it feels awkward to have people fussing over me, I climb into the bed and sit up against the pillows, I grab one of the magazines and look at the pictures, they say a picture is worth a thousand words, these pictures to me are worth three; I fucked up.

Later that week after plenty of rest I’m told that after a small ultrasound that I should be allowed out. A nurse comes in with a wheelchair.
“I’m not disabled?” I say slightly disgruntled.
She looks at me angry and points for me to sit in the chair. I do as she says and she wheels me down to the scan rooms. I climb onto the foam bed and lie backwards; the Obstetric doctor comes in and pulls clean vinyl gloves on to manly hands.
“How are you feeling Faith?” His voice is soft and gentle; he slowly lifts my hospital garment upwards revealing my flat stomach.
“I’m ok, bit bored” I say quickly and breath in sharply when he squirts the cold liquid onto my once warm skin.
“Sorry, you’ll get used to it in a minute” he smiles down at me and turns his scan screen on and places the probe onto my stomach. I look away from the screen, if I don’t see it, it doesn’t exist right?
“There’s the baby’s sac right here” he talks away as if I’m listening, curiosity gets the better of me, and I turn my head, my eyes meet the black and white image on the screen.
“Now when we did this when you were unconscious the baby had a braycardia” He begins but notices I’m completely confused.
“That’s when the heartbeat is below 90 beats per minute” he explains. “But the heartbeat is now up to 105 bpm which is really good; your baby is quite healthy.” He grins at me and wipes my stomach down with some blue tissue. I can’t help but smile back, he reminds me of the Mayor the way he genuinely cares about me…ah whatever you know I don’t need anyone. I’ve got me and that’s enough, and now this small dotty blobby thing. I take the small picture the doctor has given me and stuff it into the pocket of my denim jacket. He’s referring me to a local obstetric at the maternity hospital; I have to go back in a week to make sure it’s all right and stuff. I hope it dies and floats away for all I care.

They give me my clothes back all clean and pressed. I dress slowly and carefully place my nightshirt on the bed. The nurse comes to meet me to take me to reception to sign me out. I have flashes of memory to the night I came in here, I see the blood in my mind, on my hands and gasp quickly as I come rushing back to reality. The nurse helps me forward and tells me the door is always open if I need it.