Meghan: Perfect

One month to go

She absently stroked her stomach, trying to massage away the internal prodding that had become an almost constant pain in the last few weeks. To distract herself she picked up one of the magazines that littered the waiting room and tried to let the smiling pictures of babies and mothers calm her. It was all going smoothly, perfect according to the doctors, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had gone horribly wrong. She hadn’t even…and the pain—

“Ms. Michaels?”

She jerked at the soothing voice of the nurse and her stomach jerked with her. Wincing, she put down the magazine and rose unsteadily to waddle through the door that the nurse held politely open for her.

Her feet swung from the padded bench where she sat, vulnerable in her hospital gown. The doctor felt her stomach gently, asking her about her pains and if there were any other major problems. She lay back and he absently spread cold gel on her belly for another ultrasound, staring intently at the machines hooked up to her.

“Have you been taking the vitamins?”

She sighed, “Yes, all of the vitamins, the exercises, the foods, I’ve been doing them all. Why does it still hurt?”

His eyes looked slightly glazed as he stared at the ultrasound screen, “…just fine.” He said absently, “you’re doing just fine. Perfect development.”

“Can I see it?”

“Yes, of course.” He pushed some keys on the device and turned the screen so she could look, “There, perfectly normal.”

She was suspicious of anyone who used the word ‘perfect’ so often.

Two weeks to go.

But it was too early; would the baby be all right?

The baby would be fine; she was assured, just…

Perfect

She screamed at the ceiling and dug her fingernails into the arm of the orderly who stood at her side. It was splitting her, God the pain. But this would be the end, right? She would have her child and the pain would end, replaced with soft things like the baby’s laugh and the smell of its skin. If she could just hold on.

Crying? She wept with relief at the sounds of raging protest that her child made at being brought out into the world. With little hiccupping laughs, she watched the nurses clean the baby off and wrap her in a pink blanket.

“A girl?” she breathed, “Perfect, she’s perfect, please give her to me.” She held out her arms as the doctor took the bundled thing from the nurses and stood at the foot of the bed.

“Please give me my daughter.”

“Daughter?”

“Yes, give her to—“

“You have no daughter.”

Whatever she had been about to say died at her lips and she just stared at him, trying to process what he had said.

“You—you—what?”

“You have no children.” He enunciated carefully, as if she were slow, “You came to the clinic with severe abdominal pain and we found a tumor in your pancreas. Luckily it was small and removable; you’ll be able to live out a long healthy life.”

Her jaw clenched, “No. There was no cancer; I…give her to me.”

“Her?” He stroked the head of the baby in his arms and her mother’s fists clenched weakly in the blankets, “She was born yesterday, a ward of the state now, as her mother died in childbirth. I thought I’d bring her to see you, cheer you up, but I can see that it’s upsetting you.” He motioned a nurse over and handed the infant over, her mother’s eyes tracking her desperately as she was taken from the room.

“No! You can’t, bring her back, she’s mine!”

“Please don’t be unreasonable Ms. Michaels,” The doctor said evenly as he walked around to sit by the side of her bed.

“Unreasonable?! You take my child from me and call me unreasonable?”

He flipped through a folder that he had picked up like he couldn’t hear her.

Gritting her teeth, she ripped the I.V tube from her arm and tried to struggle out from beneath the blankets and off of the bed.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The doctor said without looking up from the reports he was scanning, “You’re incredibly weak and have lost a lot of blood. If you’ll just sit back we can discuss what’s to be done.”

“Done?” She paused in her pathetic attempts to escape her bed and stared suspiciously at the man, “About my—“

“Financial situation.”

She choked on the sentence and stared in confusion at the doctor, “You—“

“Before you get upset, I want you to know that this hospital will not refuse you service just because of your…upsetting lack of health insurance.”

She just stared at him. She knew how bad it was, how bad it looked. Getting pregnant out of the blue had at first seemed to throw her life even deeper into its hurricane of destruction. But she would get better. She would make it better for this other person who hadn’t experienced anything bad yet. It had been hard to find a job, what with her growing belly and terrible record. But she had found one, then two, then three until she hardly stopped moving except to eat and sleep. But that little bundle of cash that she saved was growing, and the little room where the baby would sleep eventually got a crib, stuffed toys, and tiny clothes. She painted the walls with beautiful oceans and savannas, wanting the child to see more beauty than was here.

And now the doctor was telling her that there was no baby, there was just a tumor.

“However, the Department is willing to offer you a deal.”

“A deal?”

“The type of cancer that you contracted is very new and a lot of research is being done with it.”

She narrowed her eyes, cancer meaning child?

“We’re willing to offer you a significant sum if you’ll allow us to study the tissues that we took from you; many scientific advances may be possible from studying such a rare disease.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, “You even have to ask? No way in Hell. Give her back.”

The doctor sighed, “You understand that giving the samples back to you isn’t an option. They have already been processed and to allow an unlicensed civilian to take them away would be…dangerous.” He met her eyes in a blank stare, “If you don’t agree to let the samples be researched, they will simply be disposed of.”

A chill ricocheted from her heart to her stomach. Disposed of? No they wouldn’t…probably. But was probably enough of a chance? No, she would never risk it, and they would never give her back her child voluntarily.

“You have my permission to use my…samples.” She said through clenched lips.

“Excellent,” The doctor said briskly, “Now if you could just sign these forms…” He passed her some papers from his folder and indicated where she was to sign away her soul. And she signed. But no matter what forms were signed, and what words said, she knew that she would be back, and heaven help anyone who kept her daughter from her.

-Meghan