Chapter 31

I wake up and nearly fall off the bed that I’m laying on. I need something to catch what is coming up my throat. I’m completely disoriented and confused as to where I am. My stomach keeps heaving but nothing seems to come out. Someone rushes to my side but I push them off. I roll off the bed and crawl to the toilet just in time. The images of Adam and Joseph are still fresh in my head. Once my stomach is settled, I lean against the wall and cry. I don’t really care where I am and I'm not really sure if I am truly awake.

I’m not sure how long I’ve sat against the wall crying before I feel someone come and sit beside me quietly. I ignore them as I try to control the images of Joseph and Adam's deaths. I feel a hand touch my shoulder and I shrug it off as I press myself farther against the wall. I hear a mumbled apology and a sigh before I feel them leave. My mind is reeling with images, good and bad. I want and need to feel the warmth of Joseph's embrace, but that’s going to happen. I hear myself say,

"Oh, Joseph what have I done? This is all my fault. Everything is my fault." My breath hitches on a sob.

I realize it was me talking; at the final ’t’ sound. I freeze. That realization stops the images from reeling as I feel a need to know where, and when, I am. I look around and realize that I am still in a hospital. My voice is rough, but it still has a little of my normal tone in it.

I take a deep breath and stand up to examine myself. In the mirror, I see that my face is pale and I have marks on it from where they removed the tape that had been holding the tubes. I’m covered with bruises on my arms from the IV's and my hair is a lot shorter than I like.

I glance around the bathroom. There’s a comb and a toothbrush on the sink. It looks like someone had bought them for me since it doesn’t seem to be hospital brand. I turn and look at the so called shower. In it is some medicated lotion soap, a shower cap that has leave in shampoo/conditioner on it, a razor, and a towel. There’s a cord that I can pull if I need any assistance laying on the support pole but there are no privacy curtains. The idea of taking a shower here is not very appealing. I turn and look myself in the mirror and decide that it needs to be done anyway. I sigh.

I lock the door, brush my teeth while waiting for the water to warm up, and examine myself one more time before turning to the shower. I put the shower cap on and step, shakily and weak, inside the shower. I have been absently washing while my mind is preoccupied when I went to wash my stomach, I froze. I feel something there that should not have been there. I look down to see what it is. Right on my bikini line, from one side to the other, is a scar.

That’s when I remember something important. This scar should be impossible, what about the baby? No, this can not be happening. I feel the world collapse around me and I pull on something as I collapse down onto my knees. When I open my eyes again, I’m laying on a bed. I’m finally aware that Bernie and Derek are in the room, facing away from me, and having a quiet discussion.

"Where's the baby?” I’m barely able to ask.

They both turn around to look at me. I can see misery in Derek's eyes and sympathy in Bernie's. Derek starts to speak but I cut him off and look towards Bernie.

"No. Where's the baby, Doctor?"

Bernie clears his throat and glances at Derek. Derek sits beside me but when he tries to grab my hand, I pull it away. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the pain in his eyes at my rejection. It makes me feel a slight twinge of guilt but right now I’m confused. I’m pretty sure that I know the answer and I don’t want his sympathy. It will be my fault, regardless, and I don’t deserve sympathy.

"Please, Doctor. Where is the baby?" I plead, my voice barely above a whisper.

"We buried him in the cemetery."

I feel my pulse and my breathing speed up. I, again, keep Derek from grabbing my hand.

"What happened?"

"When you were hit in the head at the library, I brought you to my brother's house. Remember?"

I nod and wait for him to continue.

"I found out that you were pregnant. Derek is not sure how much you remember from before."

At the mention of Derek's name, I look over to him, and then look back as Bernie continues.

"I thought that it would be best to wait to tell you until you were recovered. Do you want to know everything or just about the baby?"

"I just want to know about the baby, for now. I don't care about me."

"After we brought you here, while you were in a coma, you started bleeding internally. We were not sure what the cause was. You were so small that it took us a while to even figure out that you are, were, pregnant. The baby was farther along in the pregnancy than your stomach showed. By the time we figured out the cause of your internal bleeding, the baby was showing signs of stress and sometimes we couldn't find the heartbeat.” He pauses, glances towards Derek, then turns his eyes towards the ground. “You were both dying quickly and I rushed you into surgery. Somehow the sac that holds the baby had ripped away from the wall. It tore a hole in the sac causing you both internal bleeding. You very nearly died with the baby."

"You should have let me." I say quietly to myself.

Apparently Bernie and Derek heard me because they both look at me with alarm. To keep them from saying anything, I change the subject. I look towards Derek.

"Where's my ring?"

"What ring?" he asks confused.

"The ring, the one with a thin band and a heart in the center."

“I haven't seen it."

"Where is the rest of my stuff that you found me in?"

"They are all right here. I brought them all because Bernie said that you may be here for a while. Do you want them?"

"Please?"

Derek smiles at me, finally relaxing a little from my polite 'please'. I watch him rush to the cabinet. I know that nothing is going to be in there because I have already washed them myself. But I need something to distract me from my misery. I’m not ready to explain anything right now.

When he turns back, I ask him to check for me. As he’s looking, I remember what happened to it. The memory brought back the images of Adam and I nearly lose my stomach. My breathing stops and my stomach heaves. Bernie rushes a little pink container to me, but I manage to control myself. Tears fall helplessly down my face. Derek reaches to grab my hand again but I move it out of reach.

"Please, don't. I don't deserve your pity."

"I don't pity you. I care about you, please let me help."

Without looking at him, I shake my head. Those words strike a memory of Joseph trying to give me water and I cry harder. Derek wraps me in a hug and I let him for a minute, then I look into his eyes and forget that I’m ready to explain.

"You look like him. I just sat there and watched him die. I should have fought the guards but he told me to take care of the baby. Now, I have no baby and they're dead."

"What? Who looks like me?"

"Adam. He tried to protect us but, in the end, we lost. How far along was I?"

"You were seven months. You've been in a coma for five months and recovery for a month." Bernie answered.

"Why?" I ask.

"Why, what, sweetheart?"

"Why did the baby die? Why was I in a coma?"

"You were in a coma from the head trauma. We performed a C-section to try and save both of you but he had already died. He drowned." Bernie answers.

"They tried to bring him back but they couldn't. I'm so sorry." Derek says sincerely.

"I said not to pity me. If I had listened to what I was told, he would be just fine. What did you name him?" I ask in a robotic tone.

"We didn't name him. Derek was sure that you would want to name him yourself."

Though I’m crying and angry at myself, I’m grateful for Derek's thoughtfulness.

"Thanks, Derek." I say without looking at him. "When do I get to name him?"

"You can name him now, if you would like. He had your face and your nose with brown hair. He was very beautiful, just like you." Derek said. “I have a picture of him for you as well.”

I don't know if he doesn’t care about the father or if he's afraid to think about it for personal reasons, but now is not the time for flirting. I choose to ignore it for a little while because I will eventually tell him about Joseph. Watching my memories has brought back the feelings I have for Joseph. I look back at Derek before I glance at my lap.

"I want to name him Joseph Bartholomew, after his Father." then I look away.