I lied.
Last night, when August was in my bed, I didn’t experience any more pain. My stomach still had uncomfortable cramps, but they were nothing like the random attack I had when he had first arrived. What I wasn’t honest about was how I had been feeling.
I still didn’t feel normal and the cramping didn’t fully subside. The last thing I was going to do was make August worry. The doctor had called me back and said that they didn’t have any appointments available today, but they gave me a list of things to pay attention to and look out for. And I was under strict order to go to the hospital if any of them happened.
As the day went on, the pain had begun to get worse. It didn’t have me doubled over from it, but I was able to feel it more and it was so uncomfortable. I kept drinking water in an effort to make sure my body was properly hydrated to hopefully help. It didn’t do a damn thing except make me have to use the restroom more frequently.
The baby seemed like it was fine, though, because there was no change in activity or anything that I could tell. I don’t know. It’s a weird feeling, having this little person growing inside your stomach and not being able to really tell what is going on inside.
My body was going through some weird stress and as the day continues, I’m beginning to worry more.
“Poppy, you haven’t touched your food,” my mother points out as I sit across from her at the dinner table. I didn’t go to my last class and came home and took a nap instead. August had texted me, but I was keeping contact short with him. Tonight was the first game of their tournament and I wasn’t going to be the one who ruins that.
“I don’t feel very well,” I tell her, admitting it in a hushed voice as my hand clutches my stomach. “I’ve been having weird cramps and they’re not getting any better.”
My mother’s eyes widen slightly and she quickly recovers, her expression returning to something calm and collected. But I didn’t miss the wave of panic that washed over her face for a brief second. “Have you talked to your doctor?”
Nodding, I slowly rise to my feet as I go to see if there’s something in the kitchen that might be more appetizing than the food. “They gave me a list of symptoms and if things continued to get worse, I was told to come in. They can’t get me in until tomorrow morning for an appointment, but I would like to just wait for that if I can.”
“Don’t be stubborn,” my mother scolds me as Benjamin glances at her. “If something is wrong, I will take you to the hospital, okay? I know you’re scared, but you don’t want something bad to happen to the baby.”
Shaking my head, a shiver climbs up my spine as the thought brings a wave of nausea in the pit of my stomach. She’s right. I’ve been too worried about interrupting August’s game today to not even consider the possibility of taking care of myself. But it’s not even about putting myself first—it’s about the baby.
As I walk into the kitchen, my mother and Benjamin discuss something that I can’t quite make out the words of. Inhaling sharply, it feels as if a bolt of lightning strikes my stomach, the pain rippling through me. Warmth grows between my legs and I feel a small gush of liquid as I press my back against the cabinets.
What the fuck?
My hands find the edge of the countertop and a wave of dizziness washes over me as I struggle to keep my footing. I don’t know what is happening right now, but this can’t be good. As I push away from the counter, I knock something over and it crashes onto the floor, glass splintering.
Ignoring the mess, I stumble out of the kitchen and into the hallway before ducking into the bathroom. My stomach sinks, my heart crawling into my throat as I pull down my pants and see a bright red stain saturating my underwear.
No. This can’t be happening right now.
My head begins to swim, dread rolling in the pit of my stomach as I drop down onto the toilet. Planting my hands against the wall, I attempt to hold myself up as my vision begins to grow fuzzier. What is wrong with me?
“Mom!” I scream out her name as the tears begin to fall from my eyes. Her footsteps echo down the hallway, but as the corners of my vision grow darker, it sounds like she’s getting farther away. “Mom, please!” I attempt to cry out, but the sound is more like a whisper.
“Poppy!” my mother exclaims as she rushes into the bathroom. “What’s going on?”
Lifting my head, my eyes struggle to focus on her face. “I’m bleeding,” I whisper, my voice cracking around the words as I speak them into the universe.
My mother’s face transforms into one of panic and she begins yelling for Benjamin to call an ambulance. My head is too heavy and my eyelids feel like they’re weighed down. Exhaling a shaky breath, I drop my face down into my hands, but all of the strength leaves my body in a rush.
The darkness is closing in and I can’t stop it from coming before it swallows me whole.
Slowly peeling my eyelids open, the room is dim with a faint beeping sound coming from above my head. My body feels heavy, like there are sandbags layered on me as I sink deeper into the bed. Lifting my head, my eyes adjust to my surroundings, noticing that I’m in the hospital.
My mother sits across the room on a small couch, typing something onto her phone as she mumbles to herself. She doesn’t notice me at first and I’m glad for that. Reaching down under the blanket, I feel a strap wrapped around my stomach. Glancing down, I notice it’s a monitor and let out a sigh of relief when I see my swollen abdomen.
The evening replays in my head… the pain and the bleeding before I ultimately fainted in the bathroom. Benjamin must have called 911 like my mother ordered him to. That’s the only way it would make sense that I ended up here.
How long have I been here?
‘Oh, good,” my mother breathes as she lifts her head from her phone and sees that I’m awake. “How are you feeling, honey?”
I shrug, my body still feeling heavy. “Confused. I remember the blood just before I passed out. How long have I been out?”
“Not long,” she tells me with honesty as she glances at her phone. “We’ve only been here for about thirty minutes. They started running tests and gave you some fluids.”
“Did they say what they think is wrong?” I ask her, unable to swallow back the panic. When I woke up, I was relieved to see that I was still pregnant. That doesn’t mean everything is okay, though. If they don’t know what is going on, there’s still a chance I might be having some type of a miscarriage, even though I’m now past twenty weeks.
My mother shakes her head, her eyes searching mine. “They wouldn’t say much until they have more conclusive answers. It will be okay, honey. We will work everything out.”
“Did you bring my phone?” I ask her, dread filling the pit of my stomach as tears burn the corners of my eyes. I won’t bother August until after his game. The last thing I want to do is mess up the way he plays.
My mother nods. “It was in your pocket when we got here. You need to rest, though, and you don’t need your phone. If anyone calls you or texts you, I will let you know.”
“Okay,” I whisper, my chin wobbling as a sob creeps up my throat. Clutching my stomach, I lay my head back down as I let my eyelids fall shut. My body feels so goddamn tired, I don’t even bother fighting it.
I would rather sleep through this nightmare…
And hopefully when I wake up, that’s all this was.
Just a bad dream.
