The realization of what had occurred demoralized me in whole, languidly I pleaded with my eyes for Dr. Manuel to just leave and lethargically stared at the faint images that surrounded me while laying in the middle of the bathroom floor; I had given birth and instantaneously become tormented by the child's existence, palpably his cord had been cut and not only could I feel his separation it had taken something away from my psyche, I was drained of all livelihood the moment he'd come into this world. As he laid on my chest I could only make out half of what Dr. Manuel was saying but could tell he wasn't preparing to leave as I'd requested, which angered me, and was uncompromising when it came to calling for medical attention. He'd dialed 911 and was giving the dispatcher my address. Now I couldn't get rid of the child. I clung to consciousness but my efforts to remain aware were unavailing as the debilitated sounds vibrated from the his tiny mouth. Water dripped from my sleeves while I tried to lift my arms but I had no strength left, the last I recall was Dr. Manuel's fingers on my nose as he was preparing to blow into my mouth after I'd seen the creature that writhed frantically atop of me.
However, where I'd gone I had also taken the child.
Feeble cries finally had emerged from his emaciated body and I'd known he was alive which had prompted me to try remove him from where he laid against me on his back, briskly the umbilical cord had been severed close.
I'd awakened in critical condition in the ICU, I didn't wonder whether he had made it or not, I felt he had.
The sounds of the machines that beeped and the sight of the tubes and cords that kept me alive and monitored activity had only made me panic upon seeing them, I heard the nurse come into the room after being alerted by the monitor of my wakeness and order 0.5 milligrams of Lorazepam be administered intravenously. I could finally put a face to the bitch who overdid it with the sickening fragrances. Another nurse had come in and pointed out I had just given birth and inquired if it was safe to dispense since it was an SSRI but asked if it was notated whether I would breastfeed after being released. She then mentioned him being underweight und currently undergoing gavage feeding because he refused the bottles.
Stubborn muthafucka.
Without answering directly the senior nurse responded by saying, "Not looking too good for her, she's only 38."
Not only had I endured pain indescribably, he'd drained me of something, I was weak and was also being fed through a tube. There was no doubt in my mind I was sick, I was starved but didn't want to be fed. After seeing the nurses at breakneck speed preparing to administer the sedative I'd drifted back into the state of unconsciousness on my own in a condition of physical inactiveness yet still clinging onto mental functions. I'd dreamt once more after waking up and already being tortured trepidatiously prior to the sedative induced state of hysteria I'd again succumbed to. I hadn't remembered arriving at the hospital nor had I planned to leave alive, I was done.
The sedation had only triggered the terror stricken state of inertia I'd fallen into, my vital signs would continue to fluctuate from discomposure. I would hear them pondering over my condition, postulating their logics at an attempt to rationally hypothesize the genesis of my cerebral function which hadn't coincided with the now regulated drugs nor had the phenomenon tallied with my physical constraints.
Little did they know.
Religiously they articulated, day in and day out. The meds only now enhanced my cogitation but kept me immobile; their motive to keep me tranquil had only resulted in affliction.
Once, my temperature had become alarming, "DR. PHELPS! GET DR. PHELPS ! She has a fever, we just checked her temperature an hour ago, it was-----99.4, now----WAIT! This can't be right! It's---106.5! And---and, there are some----the radiation, u can see it! It's even affecting the Echocardiography---give her an antipyretic immediately!"
I remembered the Cradle that had sat on Martin's desk, slowly I was regaining soundness.
At times the Prada Candy would consume my sense of smell, I would be confused.
The dream would be vividly detailed each segment, a woman I'd had a confrontation with on the curb at the gas station would always appear with her aggrieved utterance and deterrent prognoses, I would become vexed at the onslaught of assertions pertinent to me and my unborn child. I could recollect all she'd addressed after coming to. Likewise, in the dream Martin had come for The Book.
My physical status eventually improved inordinately, what I suffered from was not a part of their study but they solemnized my victorious convalescence.
The hyperpyrexia left its mark, and had come with vengeance but after my vitals were stabilized I was moved to room 304.
A familiar presence could be felt while I was sedated I casted my mind back to, ghastly he'd come and his harrowing influence had me on edge straight away after gaining alertness. I'd denied visiting the child and planned to abandon him and leave without notice. The visitor had been instructed to leave the bouquet at the nurses station because it wasn't allowed in ICU, I fought to become aware as my vitals rocketed.
The evening Dr. Manuel had come, he'd convinced me to see the child but had too many inquiries, not about my son and his unorthodox appearance, but because of what he'd found in my phone. I became offended, everything in my phone was private and why had he taken it from my home? Also he'd inquired about Troy who had called several times and I considered, maybe he did in fact give a fuck.
Dr. Manuel had disclosed I'd been hospitalized to everyone who had called. I was appreciative of his good deeds, but he couldn't help me and had interfered; he'd surmised I wanted to keep what I'd birthed.
Sadly, I had been cut from asshole to appetite but was recovering from the inflicted wounds, the doctors had been more concerned about my neural oscillations than they had the childbirth aftermath.
The ensuing days after regaining consciousness were agonizing especially when I'd gone to visit him who had emphatically come, his uncanny appearance placed a wedge between us upon first laying eyes on him in the darkness, his stare even as a newborn was piercing and unsettling. I'd learned he was full term at the delivery, which was impossible; I calculated.
The unsolicited muthafucka had a clean bill of health now and was ready to be released, whereas I wasn't.
"We'd like for u to stick around and undergo a few more tests."
I weighed my options and was adamant about leaving the child behind, Baby Myers the name tag on the bassinet had read, he didn't even deserve a first name. I hadn't had to inquire about my other three sons, Dr. Manuel had disclosed they were at his home which culminated my breaking point and that is how it all began.
Against my wishes Dr. Manuel had returned, now he insisted I called him Nafari but I hadn't indulged in being on a first name basis with him and had confided too much in him when Trenton and I were together, I felt he knew me personally and was taking advantage. In my mind they were all enemies and he was insistent on being there.
"Trenton and I met many years back, I felt I've done right by himβ-"
That hadn't befit my readily disoriented sense of judgement. I believe at that moment I planned to change locations and premeditated building on the land, besides I'd evoked the downstairs bathroom in my home as being destroyed in my mind.
I'd been admitted into the hospital February 9, 2019 and one month and 2 days later, the child and I were released. I felt no maternal connection with the albino infant who I'd pictured perfectly before his arrival, and his perverse conduct even at a month old was arousing to a certain extent, he would not accept the bottle under any circumstances and constantly wailed for my tender breasts. All the same, how the fuck had they known he would be born lacking pigmentation?
Born with Oculocutaneous Albinism Type 6 they'd said---he had inherited it in an X-linked recessive manner, and could not incorporate melanin. As I absorbed the team of confused doctors' theory which had taken them weeks to conjure up, they said it was believed he had also inherited traits seen in OCA Type 3 and was inquiring about the father as well as asking about my own family tree.
"----and your mother's parents?"
Hmmm...
Their book work hadn't prepared them for the esoteric concept but I needed to be sure the trait hadn't also come from me as well as the father. Type 6 had been a mystery amongst them for years and they hadn't expected him to live, however he'd begun to improve as I had, concomitantly.
Finally we reunited and as I breastfed him I mentally denied their claims, he suffered from albinism indeed, but he could see. His purplish eyes settled on mine, we watched each other dubiously. I then touched his curly flaxen locks which spiralled his crown while I sat in the dimmed room and looked at the boy who resembled no one except...
Impetuously, I named him Ciaran and started to adore the pale child but was careful not to lose account of what I knew to be true and asked myself incessantly---how the fuck had they known?
The flowers and many gifts that were delivered to Ochsner Medical had accumulated at the nurses station while I was in the ICU. After coming out and being put in 304 they had begun to fill up in the room, I'd conspicuously left them all behind.
I often looked at the message sent to me while in labor and tried to put emphasis on certain words in the context, what had she meant by "Leave the cord attached to the child," and again, how the fuck had she known he was coming? I knew Dr. Manuel had to have seen it. Some of the thoughts were soul stirring, and as he had during pregnancy, my son controlled me. I became accustomed to his constant wail and ignored every call from Troy, I'd known he had appeared in court two weeks prior to me being released. I'd come home to find the bathroom had been cleaned spotless, no evidence of my son's birth even existed but I could close my eyes and still see what it had looked like before I'd expired.
My hunger for food would not subside and was insatiable, I ate continuously. I returned to the home prepared for the season to arrive and was hell bent on relocating to Ethel. The trees had already begun to bud and as if what had been taken from me in life was being returned to me tenfold I began to prosper. Also my son was the most beautiful I'd ever saw, yet he could not see everything as he could me and rapidly his hair had grown to cover his eyes; only the sound of flowing water would calm him down in the event if his fits.
The dreams I'd had tormented me, I needed to talk to someone and half heartedly considered Dr. Manuel but had ran him off. After my release an unfamiliar had number called, I'd answered, not expecting to hear his voice when his accent filled the speaker; as if any of the prior circumstances hadnt befallen me he inquired about the discontinuance of the sessions. I held my naked son in my arm while breastfeeding in the dark and explained to him his care had been a bit too genuine, it only made his efforts more relentless. He gloated because I'd noticed. I wanted to be left alone and continued to ignore Sharon's calls as I had the rest. The 703 number was another story.
The shed had burned but I wondered about the engravings, out of anger I'd burned it down, something had led investigators there. I knew the floor could help me repair the book, I hadn't wanted to be responsible. As I sat in the dark, writing and symbols on the dismantled pages glowed.
There were many books that laid around, I wondered what prompted TJ2 to tear apart The Devils Decimal.
The doorbell rang, I ended the call with Dr. Manuel quickly while he offered to meet up; who had come? I hadn't felt he'd come while we talked, I could clearly hear inside background noise in the speaker as the chime echoed. My son bawled as I neared the front door, I answered with my breast exposed and signed for the delivery. Folded under a pacifier in a small box was a note that read:
π’πππππΎπππ βπΆπππ,
βππΆππΎππ πΆπ·πππ ππ½π πππΈπΈππππ»ππ πΉπππΎππππ ππ» ποΏ½οΏ½οΏ½οΏ½ππ πππ π½πΆπ πππΆπππΉ ππ, πΎπ πΎπ πΆπ π½ππππ ππ πππ ππππ ππ πΏππ·πΎππΆππΎππ πΆππΉ β π½ππ π πππ πππΏππ ππ½π ππΆππ π·πππππΎπππ ππ½πΆπ πΆππ ππ π·πππππ πππ.