“Aren't you going to walk us to my car?” Casey asked.
“You have a car?” Bri asked, pretending to be a good host again.
“Yes. Got it for my birthday from my uncle.”
“Okay, Bri said. She turned to Flo who shrugged.
“I'll take your trays to the back and join you shortly.” She turned around and felt them boring an invisible hole in her back. Suddenly, she became conscious of her body. She had gained twenty pounds since her pregnancy, thanks to her double whopper craving.
I can snap back to my regular weight; she would encourage herself as she took mouthfuls of the enticing burger.
She emerged and followed like a sheep as they headed outside.
The warm sunshine grazed her skin.
“That’s my car,” Casey said, pointing to a used, idling, red Elantra.
Bri craned her neck. The car was beautiful, but it wasn’t its beauty that caught her attention. It was the figure in the car.
“Oh, that’s Hunter behind the wheel,” Casey added.
Bri stopped in her tracks.
“Hunter? What’s he doing here?”
“Um, he offered to drive us here. You know, he’s in love with my new ride.”
Bri turned around.
“Bri….” Flo said, taking her hand and stopping her.”
“Let go of me.”
“He only wants to say hi to you. He promised to be nice,” Flo said.
Bri yanked her hand out of Flo’s grasp as Hunter opened the car door. He stepped out, leaving the door ajar.
“Hi, Bri.”
Bri took off running toward the Café. She did not look back.
“What’s wrong with her?” Bri heard him say. His voice resounded in her ears. It tore right through her heart and sent tears running down her cheeks. At that moment, she knew she still loved him despite his ill-treatment towards her.
“I’d like to take the rest of the day off,” she said to her supervisor Ray. Ray was a stork-looking man. The best supervisor an employee could ever wish for. He never acted superior to his staff and stooped to the level of washing dishes when his staff was short-handed. Bri often looked up to him as a father she never had.
“Why, are you alright?”
“Just cramps,” she replied, clutching her purse, and a whopper to go.”
“Is it serious? Perhaps you need to see the doctor.”
“I’ll just lay down and see how I feel after.” She took a step and then stopped. “Jason, could you walk me to the bus stop?”
Jason, a tall, lanky boy of about nineteen years turned to their supervisor for approval.
“It’s only a five minutes’ walk. We could manage before your return,” Ray said, before leaving to attend to the incoming customers.
“Thanks,” Bri said.
“For what? Jason said, smiling.
“Walking me.”
“I needed a break.”
“I know, but you chose to have it with me. You could’ve gone for a smoke or something.”
“Trying to quit.”
“Smoking?”
“Yeah. Figured it’s time I stopped considering my uncle just died of a throat cancer.”
“Doesn’t that scare you?”
“Obviously,” he said, in his deep voice.
“I mean, those nasty pictures on the cigarette pack. And you would think that could persuade anyone to have a rethink before opening the pack.”
“The pictures mean nothing. It’s like wanting to take a bad dump, and thinking about decency when there’s a vacant clearing somewhere you can ease your burden.”
Bri laughed.
“You’re funny.”
“Didn’t mean to,” he said. “Well, here we are.”
“Thanks again.”
“No problem. Anytime.”
Bri turned to him. Her eyes caught a glimpse of want in his eyes. He had always been the one to help her with tasks involving heavy lifting at work. He often asked how she felt, but nothing more. Her instinct told her he was interested in her but was too shy to ask her out. Perhaps, her pregnancy discouraged him. She sighed.
What teen would want to date another pregnant teen?
Her bus cruised to a stop. She turned to him, again, and smiled.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow it is,” he said, smiling back. “Be sure to be there.”
“Or what?” Bri asked, blushing.
“Or I’ll miss you,” he said and turned around, heading back to the direction of the café. He only turned once to see if she had entered the bus. Bri’s heart fluttered, but it was brief. Thoughts of Hunter quickly stole the tremors away. Her face had become sullen, and her eyes downcast.
For whatever reason, it seemed the distance between her last stop and her aunt’s house had doubled. An excruciating pain rippled through her tummy. She placed her hand firmly on it and hurried home; too shy to stand in the middle of the busy road and let the pain subside.
She gritted her teeth each time the pain dealt her a menacing blow. Tears pooled in her eyes, but she fought it back, pretending to smile at one passerby or another. She was thankful upon spotting her aunt’s car in the driveway. Just in case of emergency, she would need a ride to the hospital.
12
⸙
“I can’t take it anymore,” she said to her aunt, who sat solemnly, her eyes fixed on the road. “The cramp’s killing me.”
“And when did this start?”
“Just this morning.”
“How far along are you again.”
“About twenty weeks, I think,” Bri said, letting out a loud sigh before clutching the edge of her seat again.
“It could be something you ate. What have you eaten today?”
“Water.” Her aunt gave her the stare.
“You shouldn’t be doing that. The baby needs food.”
“I ….” She blew out air through her mouth. Her aunt reached with one hand and soothed her, the other hand clutching the steering. It wasn’t until her body relaxed that Bri opened her mouth to speak. “I can’t take it anymore,” she said and broke down crying.
“You’ll be fine. It’s just that you’re not used to your body undergoing so many changes at once.
“Do you think am having the baby?”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
Her aunt sighed.
“God forbid you should have the baby now.”
“Why?” Her aunt turned to her as if thinking how naïve you are.
“She’d be underdeveloped, and it’s just not the right time.”
Bri heard an edge in her voice, but couldn’t decipher the meaning. Amidst the searing pain, she reflected on her aunt’s countenance upon her arrival home from work.
She seemed withdrawn and sad. She’d snatched an envelope of the coffee table when Bri walked in. Bri had pretended to not notice her action and complained about her discomfort. She’d wanted to take a snooze, but her aunt wouldn’t hear of it.
“You might spend the night at the hospital.”
“Why? It’s just cramps, I think.”
“There could be more to it.”
“More like what?” Bri asked, alarmed.
“I don’t know. Be prepared is what am suggesting.”
Bri gulped.
“Do you think I should be scared?” Bri asked. Her aunt turned to her.
“Just expect the unexpected,” her aunt said, before turning into the hospital parking lot.
Expect the unexpected played continuously on Bri’s mind. If anything, her aunt had succeeded in elevating her fears.
A few weeks earlier, she had borrowed a birthing DVD from the library and asked Bri to watch it in order to have an idea what she was in for. Bri had watched a little and felt both taken aback, and highly frightened. She had thought, perhaps, the baby might never come out of her.
Where was the energy to push with the cramp tearing her insides apart? And the yelling... Bri couldn’t
bear it. But there was something more to her aunt’s little conversation with her. It wasn’t about the baby. It was something else, and Bri dreaded what it might be.
13
⸙
Sasha came without a sound. A thick, white coat of vernix covered her body. Bri raised her head, took a glance at her baby and wept. Earlier, she had been told there was nothing to be done but prepare for premature labor. Her cervix had started dilating before the appointed time. She watched the doctor and nurses deliberate before turning to her.
“We would like to know if you want your baby resuscitated,” Doctor Lu, an average height male doctor said.
“Please,” Bri pleaded. “Save her. She’s all I have.”
Upon the magic word, the doctor and nurses swung into action. It must have taken an eternity to Bri as she shut her eyes brimming with tears, and prayed to God to breathe into her child, and then the miracle happened. The faint cry of a weak baby filled her ears.
Overwhelmed with joy, she threw her bed covering aside and shifted to the edge of the bed before being reminded by the nurse to lay down as she might fall from dizziness. Bri was anemic, a diagnose she received on her hospital bed.
A few minutes later, Bri gazed at her red, wrinkled baby. She had been washed. Her body looked translucent with tiny veins visible to the eyes. Breathing tube sticking out of her little nose. Bri sighed.
It wasn’t the picture she had of her baby. It wasn’t the story she had in her head. What had gone wrong?
A nurse walked in, breast pump and milk bags in her hands. She sat beside Bri on her bed, craned her neck to peer at the preemie hiding within wads of clothes in Bri’s hands and smiled.
“Isn’t she a cutie?” Bri asked.
“She’s adorable,” the nurse said.
“Bri gently slide her index finger between her baby’s tiny clasped hand. Her baby wrapped her hand around the finger; barely encircling it. She raised the tiny hand to her lips and kissed it. The nurse watched, smiling all the while.
“Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen. Your baby will remain in the NICU for a long time where she can grow and develop all her organs. You could visit during visiting hours and stay to a certain period.”
Bri turned to her aunt who sat quietly in the corner of her recovery room. She said nothing. She’d held the baby briefly after it had been cleaned and swaddled.
“How long would it take to be in the NICU?”
“It depends on her development, and her response to treatment,” the nurse said, and then threw a glance at her aunt before raising the breast pump to Bri. You’ll be pumping with this, and storing the milk in this,” she said, raising the milk bag as well. Bri gazed at the apparatus, confused.
“Your baby can’t latch on your breast. This is the only way she can be fed to gain the nutrients necessary for growth.”
Bri reached for the breast pump.
“You may try it now.”
“Right now?”
“Your baby’s hungry,” the nurse said, watching with keen interest. Bri glanced at her aunt who rose.
“I can help you with that.” She said, but Bri refused.
“I’ll give it a try.”
She searched for one of the warm baby blankets she had bought, and covered her chest, hiding her breast and the breast pump from sight. She reached for the machine, pushed the button, and the whomp sound of the breast pump filled the room. A few minutes later, the nurse, who had left and returned, asked to see the result.
It was just a few drops of milk. Bri looked disappointed, but the nurse reassured her.
“It’s normal to have a few drops to nothing of breast milk the first two days. Just keep trying.” The nurse took the few drops of colostrum and happily fed it to the baby.
The following day, amidst tears and a broken heart, Bri left the hospital, empty-handed.
“Please, don’t let her die,” Bri said to the one nurse she was closest to.
“Not on my watch. She’ll be well taken care of. My colleagues will also take care of her when am off duty. Don’t you worry.”
Bri took a long look at the hospital building before entering her aunt’s car.
She hadn’t told her friends of her premature birth. It would be the topic of the school, and she wouldn’t like to be discussed in her absence. And so, she kept her predicament to herself.
The days and weeks following the birth of her baby were filled with mixed emotions. She had resumed work a week after returning from the hospital. To keep her sanity. Often, she caught herself wanting to call the hospital for the umpteenth time to ask about the welfare of her baby.
Some of the nurses at the desk had started to get snappy at her. She understood they had other babies to care for. Often she apologized for her frequent calls and thanked them for their patience towards her.
She hurried to the NICU before work and hurried back to it after work. Sometimes feeling guilty for stepping away from her baby for so long. Her thoughts surrounded Sasha.
At home, she pumped milk until her nipples turned sore. Her baby mustn’t go hungry. The more the baby fed, the healthier and stronger she would become, and the faster she would be discharged. She drank bottles of water to have sufficient milk and ate healthily. Her body had started to shrink back to her pre-pregnancy weight, still, she felt no joy from the weight loss.
Sometimes she arrived at the NICU and held her baby for as long as she could without the baby flinching. She later understood that preemies slept most of the time. Sometimes, she was lucky to see her baby move an arm or a leg. She didn’t mind the constant hand washing before touching her baby’s hand. Soon enough, she was allowed a skin to skin contact with Sasha.
Her heart swelled with joy when the first positive news came. Sasha’s weight had improved and her growth path increasing.
“Your daughter is resilient,” one of the nurses said to her.
“Just like her mother,” Bri replied, gazing at her daughter with pride. “When do you think I can take her home?”
“That’s for the doctor to decide.”
“I just want to take her home,” Bri said, careful to not toggle on the ventilator supporting her daughter’s life.
“This is the best place for her right now. It’s the safest place for her to survive.”
“I know,” Bri said, her voice low.
The journey to and from the hospital had started taking a toll on her. The nurse gazed at her briefly before placing her hand on Bri’s shoulder.
“You need a break. You need to take care of yourself, too.”
Bri looked at her and shook her head.
“This is my break. This is how I take care of myself. Outside these hospital walls, I’m a mess. I go to work so I can provide for her, otherwise….”
“You can’t provide for her if you are stressed. Your milk won't flow if you are stressed. And if you can’t pump, your baby will starve,” the nurse said. Bri sighed.
“I’ll do my best.”
The nurse rose. Bri gazed at the wall clock in the NICU. Her time was up. She held the baby away from her body, handing her to the nurse.
“I guess it’s time to go.”
“It is,” the nurse said. “And Bri….” Bri turned around from picking up her work bag. “It’s okay to not visit for a few days.”
Bri’s eyes widened.
“You really need some rest.” Bri gazed at her, surprised at the nurse’s suggestion.
“Over my dead body,” she said. “Don’t be offended,” she added,” But I can’t do that. No mother should.”
14
⸙
She shuffled her feet to the hospital exit and then recoiled at the loud sound of the ambulance siren. The ambulance swung off the street now packed with idle cars waiting to continue on their journey and dashed through the parking lot to the emergency entrance. Bri watched briefly before heading to the bus stop closest to the hospital. A few minutes later, her phone rang.
“Hey, Bri,” Flo sai
d, panting on the phone. “You won’t believe what just happened.”
“What happened,” Bri said, disinterested.
“Hunter was rushed to the hospital.”
“What! What happened?”
“He got into a fight with someone and got stabbed.”
“What?”
“Guess who stabbed him?”
“Who? Bri asked, her heart racing.
“Steve.”
“O, my God!”
The phone died. Bri glanced at her phone. She’d run out of battery. She glanced back at the hospital. The paramedics had managed to bring out the body in the ambulance. She craned her neck, training her eyes on the body lying on the stretcher. Whoever laid on the stretcher seemed like a teenager. Bri looked away.
There’s a hospital in Cambridge, she thought. Hunter should be in Cambridge, not Kitchener where she lived. She glanced at her phone and attempted turning it on. The phone came to life briefly and then died.
“Please, God. Let him live,” she prayed.
The following day, the full story of the altercation between Hunter and Steve came to light.
Hunter had started dating Steve’s sister Alisha, and Steve would hear nothing about it having known Hunter’s track record with girls and Bri in particular. The straw that broke the camel’s back was when Alisha came home, pregnant. Although Hunter denied the pregnancy, but Steve went berserk, threatened and waylaid him on the way. They had a scuffle, and one thing led to another. Steve pulled out a knife and stabbed him.
“He actually bought the knife to castrate Hunter once and for all,” Flo said, laughing. But it wasn’t a laughing matter. Bri wasn’t laughing.
“That’s the father of my daughter clinging to life in a NICU,” Bri said, offended.
“Sorry. Flo said, surprised. Thought you wanted nothing to do with him.”
“I don’t, but he’s in the hospital fighting for his life. Have a heart.”
“I do,” Flo said. “This is awkward.”
“I got to go,” Bri said.
“Hold on a minute,” Flo said. “We haven’t seen since the incident at the café.”
Bri unconsciously glanced at her flat belly.
Still Breathing Page 5
