The House of Eve (59)







CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO WINDOW TO DARKNESS



Eleanor




Eleanor’s entire body dripped in sweat and her bowels begged to be released. Although she was embarrassed, she could no longer hold it in. Soon, the smell permeated every corner of the room, and she was glad that husbands were not permitted during labor and delivery. The nurse wiped her quickly.

“Again,” commanded Dr. Avery. “When you feel the cramping, push with the contraction.”

She had refused the morphine that was meant to ease her pain. She deserved the punishment, wanted to feel every bit of suffering that came with pushing out a baby that she could not take home. Eleanor bore down and gritted her teeth until she felt a rush of water gush between her legs. Blinding pain rearranged her midsection.

“One more time,” Dr. Avery called to her.

An animalistic cry roared from her lips, and then she felt something tiny slip out.

There was no cry. The room fell dead silent.

After fumbling between her legs, Dr. Avery handed the lifeless bundle to the nurse, who swathed it in a blanket quickly, but not before Eleanor was able to make out a tiny purple foot, perfectly formed, with all its toes and nails.

“Wait,” she cried weakly, but the nurse turned her back and left the room.

“Try to get some rest now. You did well,” Dr. Avery said and closed the door behind him.

How could one do well at delivering a dead child?

A second nurse swiped a damp cloth between her legs. “Ma’am, we have to deliver the placenta.”

Eleanor used the last of her strength and bore down, pushing and grunting through the pain for over ten minutes before the placenta emerged. It felt bigger than the baby she had delivered.

The nurse placed fresh pads between her legs to catch the bleeding and then handed Eleanor two pills and a paper cup of water.

“This will make you feel better.”

“Where’s my husband? And where did they take my baby?”

“Just rest a bit, Mrs. Pride. I’ll send him in shortly.”

Eleanor couldn’t endure much more. She swallowed the pills and was glad that they had the decency to kick in almost immediately.



* * *



When she came to, the room was dark. Eleanor looked around and then her hands went to her belly. She was thirsty, and she smacked her tongue around in her mouth and whispered:

“Where is my baby?”

She looked to the sliver of light that had pooled in from under the hospital door. Louder this time she called out, “Hello?”

Eleanor pushed herself to the edge of the bed and then tried to stand. The IV taped to her arm hindered her movement, so she yanked it out. “My baby.”

Her legs were shaky, but she managed to make it to the door and open it. There were two women standing in the nurses’ station sharing a tube of Ritz crackers.

“Mrs. Pride, what are you doing? You shouldn’t be out of bed,” one said, alarmed.

Eleanor felt a shock of liquid stream down her thigh. “Bring me my baby,” and then her teeth began to clatter.

“She’s in shock.” The nurse rushed over and put her arm on Eleanor’s shoulder. “It’s all right.”

“Where the fuck is my baby?” Spit flew from Eleanor’s lips.

The nurse tried to guide her back to the room, but Eleanor pushed her arm off of her. “Bring me my baby. I want my baby, now.” She sounded belligerent, even to herself, but her teeth wouldn’t stop chattering, and the outrage wouldn’t cease from tumbling from her lips.

Together, the nurses took hold of her, one on each arm, and dragged her back into the room.

Eleanor thrashed about on the bed. “I want my baby. It’s my baby. My sweet baby.”

They held her down. One of the nurses shot her with a needle. Eleanor opened her mouth, but her voice had deserted her. Her eyes stretched wide and then she collapsed.

Hours later, the morning sun pressed hard against the venetian blinds, creating a halo around the bouquet of flowers that sat on her windowsill. William was asleep in the chair beside her, still wearing his clothes from the day before. She turned her face on the pillow and watched him. What a disappointment this marriage must be for him. He probably should have run from her when he had the chance.

William stirred and, after a minute, opened his eyes. “Hey.” He looked disheveled but beautiful at the same time. God, she loved him, and she hated that she was such a letdown. He had given her the world and she couldn’t even bear him a child.

William ran his fingers over his hair, orientating himself to the new day. “You feeling okay?”

Eleanor’s bottom lip quivered, and she shook her head. In an instant, William was on the edge of the hospital bed pulling her into his arms, squeezing her as tight as she could endure. A sob escaped his lips, but he quickly sucked it back inside. William was mostly even-keeled and not much rattled him. To see him emotional made her bawl even harder. She felt responsible for his grief.

“We’ll get through this, babe.” He leaned his forehead against hers and looked into her eyes. “You are young and so beautiful.” He smiled demurringly. “And since I can’t keep my hands off you, we’ll conceive again in no time.”

He kissed her lips, and as she sank against him, a swift knock clapped the door. William pulled himself to standing while straightening his shirt collar.

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