Trashed and Scattered

It happened way too fast.
I was dreaming about something wonderful, holding my girl close. And I wake up to the most deafening screech I’d ever heard, and I’d heard some weird shit come from Matt from years ago. This was too quick. “Your water broke.” I muttered, suffering through oncoming shock. My limbs froze and my brain became mush. For the moment I began to panic.
Which was about the time that she started screaming. I’d say at the time she really could give Matthew a run for his money. “Jesus, your water broke.” I said a little louder, just as Matt began barrelling down the hall. “Matt, we gotta go.”
“Yeah, I can hear that. Scared the fucking shit out of me.” Without hesitation he jumped over my pile of clothes to her side of the bed and helped me get her to her feet. Her cries grew more intense, more painful, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. I tried to lift her but the shock had gotten the best of me and I became limp and useless. Matt took her up in his own arms instead and I led them to my truck. In a moment’s time we were en route to the hospital, for about the ninth consecutive time this fucking year. Talk about earning frequent flier miles.
Matt drove. I felt so, so faint. All I could manage to do was hold her hand, try not to pass out. I was so fucking scared. I thought we had another month left at least, or so that little amateur ultrasound tech said. Hell, if the baby was actually in there for nine months, one could assume that those pricks would be trained to observe how big the fetus was in comparison to the time sequence. Surely it wasn’t rocket science.
And who knew? Maybe this kid was so goddamn excited to get out and see the world that it didn’t care that only eight months had passed. Perhaps he grew too fast like his daddy. Or perhaps, god forbid, there was something wrong. Along with that thought came violent nausea.
I looked down at Melissa who was sweating profusely. She looked so, so ill. “How we doing, baby?”
She clenched her eyes shut and whimpered, her head resting on my thigh. Arms clutching her enormous belly so, so protectively. She was going to be a great mother. “Are we there yet?” she whispered weakly. I nodded and saw the relief in her face for a moment, before it disappeared again into a torrent of agony. Her yelling could have woken the whole city block.
Matt carried her into the emergency ward while I frantically rushed to the nurses’ desk. “My wife—my wife is in labour, her water broke.”
A middle-aged nurse who looked like she was running on ten cups of coffee since midnight came out from behind the desk and helped my wife down to her feet from Matt’s arms, ushering another nurse to bring a cot over. She was brought to the maternity ward where Matt and I waited outside for further instruction. I was very ready to faint. “My kid. My kid is coming today and I don’t know how to handle that.” My hands were too shaky to fill out the information on the clipboard another nurse gave me.
Matt filled it out instead. I tried to answer his questions clearly but in all honesty my mind was scrambled egg. I was so scared that a nurse or doctor or someone was going to come back through that door and deliver the worst news I’d ever heard in my life. So we waited. Took about a half hour to fill that clipboard out. Gave the receptionist all my med care information so we wouldn’t get fucked by bills. Like it was an issue, but those statements always looked so upsetting.
Oh god, my wife. All I could think of was my wife. Why weren’t we allowed in the ward with her? Although my prayers were soon answered when two nurses came out and invited Matt and I to see her. When we got to her bedside, she was in a hospital gown and her hair was in a total mess. All the colour had drained from her face. Her belly stuck out profusely beneath the blankets and gown and I could imagine the sheer pain she was in. “Melissa, baby, are you alright?”
She sighed and closed her eyes, grasping for my hand. I clenched hers tight. “They gave me an epidural already. Guess I’m dilating fast.” She tried to crack a smile. “Won’t be long and we’ll be a happy family.” I looked at Matt, who stared at the floor. He was so sensitive to all of this. I was glad he spent the night as I had the worst feeling that something was going to happen. Always had some sort of strange premonitory ability.
Melissa squeezed my hand tighter. I watched her wince and cry out in pain and she coped quite well with it. I mean, with everything the poor broad had been through in the past year, this might just have been a breeze for her. “Matt, can I give you some cash to go grab some coffees?”
“Don’t worry about it.” he left, grumbling. We were all very tired. I felt awful in a sense that with our chat last night, I knew he’d be miserable all day. I always thought he’d be the one having kids before me. Before any of us. Matt was a great guy, probably an even greater father figure. And I knew how much he cared for Melissa. How he treated her like his own lady. It wasn’t bothersome. He knew when to draw a line. And he’d always be welcome in our family.
A nurse came in and asked to check Melissa’s dilation. “Just over halfway there, Mrs. Haner.” I blushed when she called Melissa by her new last name. As if I wasn’t in shock enough from being married twelve hours ago. Something worth getting used to. “How you holding up?”
Melissa gave a weak thumbs up and collapsed to the bed again. “Brian, maybe you should have a nap. Might take a while to get all the way to ten.”
“I’m staying here, baby. Not gonna miss a damn thing.”
“Then sleep right here. It’s going to be a long day.” as she finished her sentence she trailed off and began snoring. How she could sleep through that kind of pain I’d never know, but in one way or another the epidural must have helped a ton. Not like I knew about any of this giving birth shit. It was cool, but not something I ever wanted to suffer through myself. Manhood had its perks and I wasn’t giving them up.
When Matt got back, we were both snoozing. I was bent over in my chair, head by her side. I heard Matt set the coffees down and sit in the other chair to do the same. His snoring was all too familiar.
As I drifted back off again, I began having the strangest dream. Melissa had gone in labour while I was asleep and gave birth to two beautiful boys. Only one looked very different, almost as though he were…Matt’s. Crap, was that possible? And if it was, how could the goddamn ultrasound tech not see that there were two babies inside my wife rather than the one? I woke up sweaty and panting, looking around to find commotion of any kind.
To my amusement, the maternity ward was quiet. I was thankful, yet still stressed about that ridiculous short dream. God, I hoped there was no way it was possible for anything like that to happen. Looking back over at Matt, watching his strapping chest rise and fall with every breath, I sighed with mild anxiety in anticipation for this all to be done. Checked my phone. Just past six. Took a sip of cool coffee and sat back in the chair.
The nurse came in again and pried at Melissa. I heard her whisper “nine” and go back to the nurses’ station. She’d be back within the hour. It was so fast. A week from then I’d just turned twenty-eight, and that very day I’d be holding my newborn son. I didn’t know what emotion to feel more: fear, happiness, or plain panic. For some awful reason my brain decided it was a good idea to fear every possible outcome, the worst being losing both my wife and child. It would physically kill me. I almost lost Melissa once.
As the hour rolled by, the nurse came back to check. By then Melissa was awake again and feeling all her contractions. Could have sworn she broke my wrist just to have something to squeeze. Gave Matt’s pain tolerance a nice little twinge too. “Oh god,” was all she kept saying. For a good fifteen minutes. “Oh god, he’s coming.” She reached full dilation just as soon as I anticipated. Just past seven and we were both brought to the delivery room, leaving Matt behind to wait. I gave him instructions to call the boys, or even just Zack, so he could help us afterwards with arranging all the baby stuff.
Like I said before, I knew pretty much nothing about it all. When the last month was cut short, I panicked. It was too soon.
Melissa was shrieking all the way down the hall. Hoped to god that this part of the building was sound proof because she would have shaken the walls, broken glass. Amazing, really, what level of noise escaped something I always thought was so reserved and quiet. Guess marriage meant learning all types of new shit about the person I’d only spent the last four, five years of my life with.
A doctor met us in the delivery room. An older guy, about mid-forties with no hair on his face except two bushy grey eyebrows. Doctor Osterman was his name, sort of fitting. He sat me down in a chair and went over the few details I suppose all expectant fathers or partners had to go through. What to expect during delivery. How to cope with sympathy feelings, but surely I wasn’t having any personal physical sympathy pregnancy symptoms. That was weird. I assured the good doctor that I was fully capable of handling my shit throughout this delivery.
That was, embarrassingly enough, until I saw my kid’s hairy head pop out. Doctor Osterman laughed and had someone pick me up off the floor. Melissa was doing just fine without me.
When I was sturdy enough to stand I accompanied my wife again. Our baby was almost out. I cut the cord, barely managing to hold a pair of scissors. Melissa and I were both crying, as was the baby. Which, typically for my earlier fears, was also when the doctor’s face went white. “She’s hemorrhaging.” He said to one of his assisting nurses, who then had another nurse escort me out of the delivery room.
“What’s going on?” I yelled, frantic and terrified to leave my wife in there. “What’s happening to my wife?”
“Sir, she’s hemorrhaging. Not enough for her to need surgery but enough to be concerned about. Please wait in the maternity ward. Your daughter will be brought to you shortly.”
I’ll admit, I felt like she slapped me stupid. “My…my what?”
“Your daughter, sir. Please wait here.” Matt welcomed me back, pulling me into a huge hug. I fell limp.
He sat me down in another chair and snapped his fingers in my face. “Hey, Brian. Hey buddy. What happened in there, man?”
“Melissa hemorrhaged.” I swallowed hard, fighting to hold back the tears. To no avail, they came anyway. Matt sat there in front of me, trying to take in what I had said. “I’m so fucking scared.” His hands found my knees, his eyes focussing on mine. “Matt, tell me she’s going to be okay.”
“Jesus, Brian. Are you kidding? It’s Melissa we’re talking about. Of course she’s going to be fine.”
“Well what if…what if she’s been through too much, you know? What if…” I trailed off as a nurse came up to us with a bundle in her arms. A soft cry coming from it. “Is…is this my kid?”
The nurse smiled, handing her down to me. “Your daughter, Mr. Haner. Congratulations.”
Matt beamed and climbed up into the chair beside me. “Holy shit, man. She looks just like you. That’s fucking freaky.”
“Any word on my wife?”
“She’s okay. Just resting. Only a small tear, stitched up nice and neat. You can see her when the doctor comes out.”
I sighed with a mighty relieving heave. In my shaking arms was a tiny little form of life. I never felt in my entire life what I was feeling. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I gave her to Matt to hold for a few minutes while I straightened myself out. Weeping senselessly, like the world before me was changed around into something bigger, something better. I had everything I ever wanted now.
The doctor came out and approached us. “Your wife is being moved to her own room. She’s being admitted for a few nights just so we can keep an eye on her. Nothing’s wrong, just precautionary. Congratulations, Mr. Haner, on your daughter.”
“Thank you so much, doc.” I wheezed. Matt and I followed a nurse to Melissa’s room where she was settling down on a bigger, much more comfortable bed. “Baby look, a baby!” I shouted, taking her back gently from Matt. I could see he was crying too.
Melissa took her to see her for the first time, reveling in the newborn’s beaming smile. Her eyes opened for a moment and rather than antsy squeals she made soft coos, and I had never seen such love in Melissa’s eyes. “What would you like to call her?”
I scratched the back of my neck, regretting every day that I’d fixated on a new name to call our boy. Fuck, we were convinced it was a boy. I wanted to sue our ultrasound tech. “Well, all I’ve got are boy names. Unless you want to take to calling our little girl Jeremy.”
Melissa weakly laughed. “Thank god for your bad humour. I was thinking…Audrey.”
“Oh, I like that. Audrey Haner. Better not fuck with her. Yeah, I’ll go with Audrey if that’s what you have in mind.”
“Alright. Audrey…Annabelle Haner. Born on July fifteenth, approximately nine-twenty in the morning. Weighing seven pounds, six ounces. Not bad for being in there for only eight months, huh.”
“Proud of you, Melissa. You’re a real fighter. Now I’m gonna call everyone and they’re probably all going to show up at once. Hope the little stinker can handle it.”
She rolled her eyes. “She’ll get used to it.”

Notes

And we've come to a close. Thank you everyone for reading!

Sequel is on its way.