Nothing could have prepared me for what I experienced the afternoon I went into labor, and the paramount element of successfully delivering my son was contingent on whether or not I remained calm, several times I'd contemplated dialing 911 but was stupefied by what had occurred. My breathing was measured and my senses had become derisively acute, my hearing was keener than it had ever been; the children conversed among themselves upstairs but their voices sounded deeper and immensely mature for their years. Even their whispers carried distinctly throughout the moderately furnished home. Labor could last for hours I told myself nervously.
Subsequent to crawling to my knees following my fall I'd pulled myself up while holding on to the banister, the fluids leaked from my body liberally. Panic set in as I rubbed my inner thighs and looked at my hand, I didn't know anything about the neighborhood and hadn't considered the what-ifs when I moved in independently, but I also hadn't outlined my son being slammedagainst me causing me to spontaneously go into labor. I decided to keep calm but hadn't known whether to sit or stand. TJ2's voice as he giggled ominously resonated while he sat in a corner stolid, but pacified by something unseen, his serenity placated my anger to a certain level but baffled me---was there really something inside of my home?
Finally, I'd walked into the downstairs bathroom carefully and held on to the first of the Jack and Jill sinks. As always I was cold and had been all winter, but sweat had beaded across my top lip, I'd turned the water on to wash my face unsure of what to do next as the fluids continued down my legs. I'd known my hopes for the child to stay inside were in vain, he was coming and I wasn't prepared. Considering I'd watched the videos I concluded I would have to deliver the child alone and was running out of time. I called to my sons as I heard their feet run across the upstairs floor, I hadn't known if my state of hysteria had played a role in me hearing numerous footsteps above, but the stomping sound coming from upstairs surpassed the normality of their usual behavior. I worried about my 2 year old whose gibberish had adapted a dialect as he sat in the corner. I held my stomach underneath and leaned forward on the sink trying to keep my feet planted, the pressure from my abdomen had begun to numb my thighs. Out of nowhere my appetite was returning and I'd become extremely hungry but knew I could not eat, however the hunger pangs were showing no mercy. As my baby moved I calculated and wasn't sure if he would be able to survive or not nor did I have a due date. I hadn't planned to go to the hospital before or after the delivery. Supporting my back with my hands I decided I needed to get inside of the tub before dragging my feet to turn on the jets, the insoles of my feet were crimson and I knew it would soon be impossible to stand, at that moment I hated Troy for leaving me and briefly thought about death. Before falling to my knees I removed the phone from the long cardigan I'd worn, I needed help and all I had were my children. Who could I call? I refused to call Louisa and wholeheartedly wished for my sister. Exhaustion was consuming me suddenly as if I would fall asleep but yet in pain, my pelvis felt it would snap in half from the pressure of the child.
I climbed inside of the tub frail and watched the water turn bright red. At that moment I began to scream for my 5 year old, I needed help and fast. My calls went unanswered, I contemplated on whether the water was too loud but could hear them comprehensibly, they were being entertained by someone.
I negotiated with my prudence, I didn't believe in ghosts. What I'd come to acknowledge was more sinister than an unpeaceful soul, but caliginous and pernicious because it was unseen. Fear settled in my loins as I could hear the boys whisper.
My heart had begun to race, with my head propped against the jacuzzi edge it reverberated through my skull, my head felt it would explode and I was not prepared for the birth! I remembered Nathaniel had said he would return soon to recover his truck but I'd been ignoring his calls and texts, I hadn't known if he was in New Orleans or not. Christy's mother's words taunted me as I held on to my wretched womb. I prayed to God skeptically.
As I laid on my back in the tub with my knees upright I threw my leg across its side and placed my hand between them now wondering if I would be able to push him through the birth canal, I was not at all ready but wanted the pain to end. The phone was beside the sink, I'd decided when I couldn't endure anymore fear to call Nathaniel, I needed him. My children remained unsupervised, but were evidently content, all three. The two upstairs yet disregarded my cries for help, angrily I considered attempting to climb the stairs to chastise them both, I definitely needed them but didn't know how! Twan had left me! They all had!
The thought occurred, my son would drown without anyone to assist with the delivery, I needed to climb back out. The cardigan I wore had absorbed an enormous amount of water, so had the dress underneath, I hadn't even contemplated undressing but just climbed in. I inserted my fingers inside of my vaginal canal unsure of what I was feeling for but accompanying the pain was still the pressure and on my fingertips was his head, my worries for him possibly being breach had subsided, but I'd panicked even more because he was indeed coming. Surely I couldn't survive the childbirth alone, I had to call Louisa but felt it would be a mistake! I managed to sit up on my knees, throw my leg over the side of the tub and fall to the floor on one knee, the fluids from my body continuously flowed, I laid on my back for a moment to gather my thoughts, the voices had no compassion and I could identify them all. I needed to stand up, after crawling across the floor and reaching for the monogrammed towels that hang on the rack I pulled my self up desperately relying on the durability of the towel rack. Breathlessly looking in the mirror while leaning beside the bidet, I saw the tears that streamed my face along with the sweat that poured from my forehead, but I was freezing cold! I regretted not being able to control the thermostat from the phone as I could at the home Trenton and I shared. Why wouldn't God just help me already! My phone was across the bathroom and I had to call SOMEBODY!!
Vaguely I remembered dreaming about Trenton the night before as I had many times recently, the latest one had frightened me but was reoccurring, however they would be more detailed each time. I would always sat in the backseat handcuffed and he would speak incoherently, in the dream I would try to understand him but could not hear because of the water in my ears, however, each dream would allow me to make out a different word. In the dream I'd most recently had he'd said rescued and safe.
On my knees I rested on the floor with my palms flat, the water from my clothing dripped quickly saturating the rugs; the pressure between my legs would not allow me to stand for long. Finally I mustered up enough strength to crawl to the sink and reach upward for the phone barely making contact with my fingertips. With my index and middle fingers I stood it up on its side in an attempt to flip it to the floor but it remained upright. My legs would not allow me to stand again and as I patted for it I knocked it to inside of the sink right as I glanced back at the tub that continued to fill with the now rust colored water. I placed my hand in my vaginal area and prepared to try to pull myself up again to get the phone, I would call Louisa for help, certainly she could. Slowly and painfully I stood to one foot and reached for the phone but as my bloody hand made contact with the device, it rang. My breathing was shallow, and the child meant business...I began to count and pace my breaths.
Dr. Manuel?
Desperately I tried to think logically and with scrutiny I reflected back on what I'd been told about my unborn seed while the chime continued to fill the bathroom. I was weak and malnourished, the child would kill me if I didn't get help! The range of emotions took over, hate, anger and fear—-how could he be born under those circumstances?
Why had my son just fallen from the stairs and directly into me as he had? My emotions were just so intense, I was only moments away from trying to end both of our lives and there were so many voices now filling my head abundantly. The pain alone was sufficient enough to lose consciousness. With my trembling thumb I accepted the call, knowing Dr. Manuel was only 10 minutes away and I was in dire need. As usual the call had come in to confirm the appointment I had scheduled for the following morning and was from his secretary Jolena.
"Hiii Ms. My---"
"Jolena, Oh God, I need help! I am home with my children in labor---my baby is com—-!"
"Did u call 911?"
"No---well yes, but I need to speak to Dr.---"
"Well we were calling to con---"
"I need to speak to Dr. Manuel right now! Please!"
"Sorry, he's with a patient, is there anything I can help---"
I ended the call, the bitch didn't understand, I would die! She called back, I called her every bitch I could think of before hanging up. BITCH IM DYING! Apparently I'm desperate BITCH!!! I knew I needed to stay calm and the episode with Jolena had almost done me in, my life at that point depended on my health. If I was sane bitch I wouldn't need the muthafuckin sessions!
Inauspiciously I regarded the pressure between my legs and didn't know what position I needed to be in, standing up would only worsen the situation. I needed to lie down. I considered even if I would have dialed 911 it was too late because the bastard was already coming.
Sadly I cogitated whether I'd even wanted him, he had been pure hell since the conception, what if he was to die. I hadn't planned him nor had I been thrilled about what I had had to endure alone, that instant was when the hate for my child's father surfaced and became real, his promises were all in vain, he didn't even give a fuck! His hidden agenda had destroyed what remained of my sanity. I felt I'd never been that close to death.
Trying to get control of my shaking legs unsuccessfully, I decided laying down on the wet floor should have been in my best interest to prevent falling down on the hard surface. The children were now finally descending the stairs, I laid on the bathroom floor in what I considered was a birthing position afraid they would see me die.
"WHERE WERE U TWO!?" I asked my 4 year old barely able to speak, he squatted and held out a bent plastic sword, I looked at his shoes that were on the wrong feet but tied. He stood swiftly and turned away almost colliding with his brother who stood only a couple of feet behind him, by now TJ2's uniformed gibberish could be heard nearing the bathroom door. I tried to yell for them to keep him away! My 5 year old just stood in shock holding parts of The Devils Decimal and said "Mama, the book."
I screamed out of frustration and pain, I'd frightened them all, my toes were gripped to the bidet and I had no choice except to push! Reaching over my head I attempted to close the door, the oldest of them all stood bewildered with symbols in his hand. "Go, go to your room---take your brothers and put that down!"
Supporting my upper body on my elbows while demanding my children to obey I had no choice except to push, I effortlessly tried to close the door. The phone now laid beside me and and when it rang again as I tried to sat up on my knees I knew it was Troy. I'd opened my legs as wide as I could while kneeling and holding on to the bidet, after feeling my sons head getting further through the canal I placed my hand between my legs again, this time feeling the circumference of his skull. I struggled to accept the call but had to, it was a must! His voice could be heard barely through the speaker but my screams were clamorous! I hated him and after I hurled unimaginable obscenities at him he finally knew it, I didn't give a fuck what he said or how compassionate he may have been at that moment, I wanted him dead! How could I do this shit alone!?
The minutes were passing slowly, each one seemed like eternity and I was clinging to consciousness. 911 was no longer even an option and as the beating and chiming came to the front door I felt it was the neighbors, first the doorbell and then the series of knocks all simultaneous to each other. I glanced and saw the minutes accumulating across the screen of the cracked phone but there was silence other than the distant background noise in Troy's dorm. Oh how I hated that muthafucka, I wanted him to know how much.
There was nothing I could do to stop my son from coming into the world. Afraid I would break his neck I screamed to the boys to open the front door! I knew they hadn't climbed the stairs and pictured them just standing at the front door as they were. The voices were so many as if they'd all come to fellowship. After several commands and threats at the boys to get them to twist the lock and press the thumb latch I finally saw light appear from the sun that spilled into the hall as I lifted my head while trying to sit up on my knees, which indicated someone had come into the home. I didn't even have the strength to scream out to whoever had come inside and my legs were completely numb but I heard their voice. The rawness on my knees could be felt against the wet rug fibers, I held on to the sink and pushed.
The child wouldn't move further but its head had come out, I felt for his face and could tell the placenta or something had apparently come out wrapped around his head. If I didn't cut a hole in the layer of protective skin he would suffocate. Unable to reach behind me I tried to again place my hand between my legs but my position hadn't allowed it. The smell of the birth, I will never forget. I couldn't say a word but growled like an angry dog. I saw his expensive loafers as he pushed the half closed door open to be greeted by what looked like a slaughterhouse. He removed the brown leather coat he had on and hung it on the back of the door. I was yet erected on my knees with them spread apart as wide as they could separate.
"Nooooo wait, u cant push!"
"I have to!"
"The shoulders won't allow u too!"
The phone call from prison had lasted 13 minutes and 55 seconds, I expected it to end soon and wondered if the son of a bitch could hear my pain! I doubted he would call back, he never called twice. Heartless muthafuckas, I would show them all heartless...
"Ok, let me help u, my ex wife was a midwife for her best friend and Ive watched a few birthing videos," he said taking off his watch laying it on the sink and rolling up his sleeves. "I will help u, first u have to lay down on your back."
His hands were under my arms I didn't know what to do, I wanted to fucking climb! I was sure I would smother the child while trying to lay down but managed to do so with his head still occupying my crotch. Now with my knees upright again he examined my condition and said, "His shoulders are stuck and he's not moving."
The voices were so loud and as the phone laid beside me it lit up, the hum in the floor from the running water in the tub pacified me somehow and I didn't have a choice but to trust him, my life depended on it. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it unknowingly. I'd known Troy had ended the call and hadn't called back but a notification had come in, in the midst of my agony I saw the lit screen and a text that read, "Leave the cord attached to the child."
Hysterically, I snapped and had begun to fight Dr. Manuel.
"U called me for a reason! Im trying to help u Hazel! Where is your kitchen, u are losing oxygen, breathe!?"
He patted his soiled hands across his shirt pocket for his phone, weakly I clutched his pant leg and tried to speak, I didn't know if he understood.
I didn't elaborate but cried uncontrollably as the tears filled my ears, the pain was occupying all of my normal functions, hell I didn't even know where the fuckin kitchen was and Louisa's text message had enraged me! He briefly left the bathroom, the child had been stuck in my canal at least 5 minutes. When he returned I knew he had a blade of some sort, and the sharpness of it hadn't compared to the pain I'd already felt. I heard him instructing my babies to go upstairs while TJ2's gibberish became words.
"PUSH! He isn't—-!"
I had no more strength now and was torn. He begged to push on three and said we didn't have much time. I knew if I didn't my son wouldn't live but I think I hoped he was already gone.
"Please, PUSH! I can't deal with this on my con---"
He had the look of defeat across his face as he knelt on the wet floor. I breathed as deep as I could and pushed but he wouldn't move, the fresh warm blood could be felt under my back. Even though I tried to push I couldn't now, I laid panting for air and closed my eyes.
Dr, Manuel slapped at my face, "NO U CANT GO TO SLEEP! STAY WITH ME!"
I couldn't, I was tired, I was through, I was done.
The pain alone would kill me, I moved my mouth but could barely talk, "He is a demon," I said.
I saw Dr. Manuel look between my legs and his bloody arms as he reached for my son, he was agitated and upset, too determined for it to just be a good deed he was carrying out. Finally I felt the extra weight of his hands between my legs before he placed one in my stomach and pushed. I screamed with the little strength I still had and knew I was dying but felt his hands around my child's head while maneuvering his body to pull him out. When the fluids followed him and puddled where I laid I looked through my weak eyelids and saw the gray cord that connected me to the child, the blood that covered him and Dr. Manuel's arms and sleeves.
"He's here, dammit---he, whew---God he was a stubborn one!"
Dr. Manuel said with lack of enthusiasm, he wiped his brow with his arm and held on to his composure but was near tears. As he leaned forward toward me I saw the pigment lacking child but hadn't heard him cry. I hadn't even wondered if he was alive because now his eyes were wide open. I noticed his face was bloody and saw the cut on his forehead as Dr. Manuel laid him on my chest. Ashamed of what he'd witnessed I asked Dr. Manuel to just leave and was sure I sounded ungrateful. I often ask myself if I should have drowned him minutes after he was born, it had certainly been my intent.