May 22, 1954
Portland, Maine

Right now, Hawkeye and I are sitting in the hospital here in Portland, waiting for my discharge paperwork. This morning had us scared as hell, to be honest. I woke up around four o'clock in a pool of my own blood and a bad back cramp. It was painful enough that I woke Hawkeye up and showed him. He didn't need to exam me. It was alarming enough that he admitted that we had to drive out for help.

The uproar was chaotic! Hawkeye had to wake up his Dad and tell him what's going on and run without coffee. Their talking woke up BJ and Charles. Then, Peg was awake and soon throwing up in the bathroom and Honoria was asking what was going on, with the two aides trying to dress her decently (after all, she came out with nothing more than a thin knee-length revealing nightgown). The children (Shannon and Erin) were up next, underfoot as Hawkeye brought me downstairs and gathered supplies if our stay was longer than a day. Daniel was helping him too, with BJ and Charles giving their two cents.

While the trio talked over my head, I settled in my rocking chair. I didn't dare move, for fear of ruining it and the rug underneath. I waited patiently. When he calmed down the children and other inhabitants (excluding a frantic Hawkeye), Daniel came up to me with my Army bag. It was filled with clothes and other items, in case the baby was ready to be born. My journal and a pencil were also in there.

"Thank you, Dad," I said softly. I was touched.

I have never seen my father-in-law blush before, proud as can be that our relationship took on another level. He grinned, kissing my forehead. "Anytime."

Finally satisfied, Hawkeye was ready to go. An hour later, we were parked and I was admitted into a room in the maternity ward and Hawkeye was delegated to a waiting area. Three hours later, I was informed after a humiliating scrutiny that I had scarring from previous pregnancies that was causing some of the bleeding. The baby was also situated wrong and moving around enough to cause the cord to sit underneath the head, they think. They couldn't see much with the machine they used.

Hawkeye wasn't too happy to leave me alone. However, he had to curb his impatience and anxiety somehow. He paced his space until he was called for consultation. I was with the nurse in my room then, straining my ears to listen. I was not told much otherwise, but the doctor was kind and tried to be gentle with any information he had.

"You think this is it?" Hawkeye exclaimed outside my room when he was told the news. "Are you sure the right diagnosis, Doctor?"

"Doctor Pierce, your wife does not have a strong constitution," the response came bluntly. "From what has been informed by her and the notes from a previous visit and some records, she has been having problems for some time. Her first pregnancy…well, there was no living child. It caused some medical issues that nobody picked up until now."

"Yes, and we were told she had to get back up and work like slave in our kitchen. This has been happening for some months. We've kept her under lock and key."

"Pierce – Hawkeye – I understand some…doctors…prescribe women to continue their lives like nothing happened. Others might ask that a woman take bottles of pills and lie down. I also think most women don't go to war and come home. Your wife is different from others we see. What I suggest is complete bedrest, until at least a month, maybe two months, after the baby's birth. No walking or other activities, even if she is up to it. Mrs. Pierce is going to have to gradually work her strength up afterward."

Hawkeye was quiet. "How long will she be here?"

"We're discharging her in a few hours, once the bleeding has stopped, or keeping her overnight if it does not," the doctor replied uncertainly. It was like he was unsure if he should be allowing it or not. "I suggest bringing her back when she is in labor. In her condition, it's unknown what will happen. You've been doing wonderfully keeping her rested."

"I can't just tie her to a bed. She's a mother, formally a nurse. We have a daughter she needs to care for. My father is sixty-four. Our neighbor is just as old. He cannot care for our little girl for long and neither can our neighbor."

"I understand. I am sure friends can help too. I hear it's quite a party where you are."

"What else do you suggest other than bedrest?"

"Well, I won't suggest other remedies. That kind of restlessness cannot be helped, but make her useful, like give her sewing or other things that require her sitting down and concentrating. Normally, doctors these days suggest other…things…to keep women calm. Naturally, they believe in vodka and orange juice or picking up a pack of cigarettes. Mrs. Pierce doesn't seem to be a smoker and has other…well, she has other tastes in alcohol, from what she told me. She didn't drink during her first pregnancy?"

"Second, you mean," Hawkeye said tartly. "No, she didn't. Not as far as I knew. She was in Korea, but was not with me most of the time."

"What about her first? Do you know anything about it?"

"Other than she lost her baby and a lot of blood, no. I don't know anything."

"Based on some medical records from then and the Army, there are some clues. We believe some of the difficulties she's had are more than stress. I do not believe war is the only factor. What was her life like before Korea?"

I heard the hesitation in Hawkeye's voice. He was damning me if he said specific details and kept his voice as soft as possible. "A mental hell. Her parents divorced and abused her and her twin brother. Her stepfather took a lot of liberties with her. She drank throughout her life, from when she was a teenager to nursing school and beyond that. She's…hurt herself. She also did some things for the Army that did not help and lost a lot of people. Her relationship before me ended in death."

"Some will justify that it's a parents' business to discipline their children. Do you know what happened?"

"Yeah, well, Doctor, I don't think using your own children in some sick fantasy is somebody else's business. That sicko also attempted to abuse my daughter when she was just weeks old. I'd be castigating him if he wasn't dead."

There was much more to those empty threats, but I could not hear it. Hawkeye was trying to keep his temper in check. The nurse also noticed that I was eavesdropping and tried calming me. She told me that my place isn't hearing things that are meant for my husband's ears. It will hurt me and the baby.

"He'll take care of it," she reassured me. "You rest up now, Mrs. Pierce."

But I was not going to listen to her. When she turned her back to get me some medication, I strained my ears again. It sounded like the conversation was over. Hawkeye's tone of voice was defeated and sad while the doctor's seemed sympathetic and caring. The last question I heard quite clearly.

"Do you want to sit with her?" the doctor asked Hawkeye. "I know most men faint at the sight of their wives…"

There was no hesitation whatsoever. Hawkeye was in my room in seconds and holding me while kicking the nurse out at once, damning the pain medication. We didn't need words. Understanding that there were so many unknown factors made me cautious. We didn't want to speak about it. Being together was enough.

Eventually, when words continued to fail us, Hawkeye fell asleep and has been ever since. I allowed him most the bed to be comfortable. I didn't mind. I cannot sleep, even being without coffee. Writing has helped to pass some time, but my hand is cramping. I need to stop.

I touched my enlarging belly. I have a few more weeks left. I could not bear losing another baby. I had to follow these instructions, despite what I wanted. Our lives depended on it.

~00~

While the partying continued outside, my world grew smaller and was confined to one room. If I thought Hawkeye and his Dad allowing me freedom of the house while taking care of my whims was cautious, they were stricter than ever. It did not help that Charles, Colonel Potter, BJ and Trapper were on their side. One of them was always watching the doorway. If one of them saw my shadow, they rushed upstairs and had me in bed faster than the call for wounded was.

The only movement I was allowed to going to the bathroom (I was glad for the lack of bedpan), taking a bath with help (no showers allowed for now), getting dressed twice a day and stretching in the bed (and all with help). Margaret always present for those tasks. Telling everybody else to suck lemons and to answer to her fists (no joke), she has been getting up early and arriving here, waking us up to begin the day. Hawkeye did not appreciate her presence before coffee, but he didn't have much of a fight. He gave that up with Margaret ages ago.

And with so many people around, there was always somebody taking care of things. The girls cleaned the house under Margaret's direction if Mrs. Pettigrew didn't come over or Mrs. O'Reilly wasn't telling them everything was done wrong. The other women always catered to Shannon's needs if Hawkeye and Dad were not able to. Everybody also took turns sitting with me if they were not giving medical judgments or telling me what to do. If I was not sleeping or reading, I had endless card games, gossip from the girls and toasting something or somebody with a glass of wine. Sometimes, that meant kicking people out too.

The usual daytime activities continued, regardless of my condition. Games were still conducted. People still met each other and fought (BJ and Trapper had to break up one between Zale and Klinger when the former decided to insult Soon-Lee). Hikes ended up with tales of adventure and daring exploits. Fishing and lobster catching were popular pastimes. The residents of Crabapple Cove conducted more tours, glad to transform their small town into somewhat of a sightseer location. Hell, the town counsel even created a center with information about the town!

Nights were calmer. The usual gang liked to spend quieter evenings as the parties in town grew too boring. Usually, I had the Swamp rats splitting up the still gin while I sipped on my wine. Hawkeye had done a wonderful job with its upkeep and the contents remained as potent as ever before (according to the colonel, Charles, BJ and Hawkeye). However, we had better ingredients than dirty socks, cough syrup and the occasional baked good. This made for some drunken nights for the men.

Trapper's last night until his second return came during this time. He already kissed me good night and wished me well. He was pretty damned drunk when he checked in too, so I disregarded his sloppy attempts at a farewell and smiled through the madness. I mean, I had BJ, Charles and Hawkeye for company already and the three were talking philosophically about life in general and toasting anything sinister and cynical.

The initiating Swampman seemed offended by the talk. "My, my, how serious we've gotten!" Trapper exclaimed. "Have we forgetting certain ladies are present?"

"And one nearby, I am sure," Hawkeye replied. He rubbed his red nose. "Speaking of ladies, has anyone seen Margaret?"

"Last I saw her, she was on the beach," BJ mentioned casually. With that, the sozzled foursome immediately went to the window.

Our bedroom faced the left side of the house and we were able to see the side of the house to the ocean through the windows. From above, one can see the grey waters, tan sand and most activities from that angle. From my position, I saw some of it and was glad of the merriment. Somebody had dug up a pit and began a fire. They were roasting marshmallows. Others were so inebriated that there was some wild dancing, screaming and general mayhem. And in the middle of all of the action, with a drink in her hands and laughing, was Margaret.

She was talking with the colonel and Dad about something. I couldn't see what it was about, since her lips were too far away to read. But Keith was hanging onto her left side, adding a sort of excitement to the conversation by waving his hands to tell his side of the story. Their audience was pretty enthused and smiled in encouragement. But this was not the point.

"Dad should be leading her off in a few seconds here," Hawkeye announced. "In three, two, one…"

Almost on Hawkeye's exact cue, Dad cut into the talks and waved the group over to the water. Margaret seemed to find this exciting and it appeared that she nagged at Keith to come along with the older pair. I didn't understand what the hype was, but went along with the joke. It was close to the end of May and swimming season was almost here. By the time everybody leaves, the water will just be warm enough to splash in.

It was pretty obvious that Dad was leading them through that specific pathway on purpose. He didn't need to even position anybody. It was very natural, like he was the perfect host in showing them our home, and he worked it out to his advantage. It was only seconds later, we all heard a screech and a crash. Margaret had walked into the trap and landed softly…into bushes with thin thorns.

Trapper, BJ and Hawkeye were in hysterics. I giggled too. What made it funnier was seeing Colonel Potter and Dad trying hard not to laugh. Keith too was snickering, but he helped Margaret back up and remained stoic. He brushed off her clothes and talked about what could have possibly happened. Dad and the colonel also exclaimed the same concerns.

But Margaret was not fooled. "The pranks will never end, will they?!" we heard her scream. "Oh, they're going to get it!"

"Gentlemen, my hat is off to you," Charles declared. He raised is glass to the trio. "To the authors of such a joke."

Trapper, BJ and Hawkeye congratulated themselves on a job well done. I even had to admit that they still had it in them. But the last laughs were on them. Margaret was angry enough that she stormed inside and was stomping upstairs quickly. That was their cue.

BJ finished his drink and dropped his glass to the floor. "I think Peg wants me to watch Erin," he declared before dashing out. "She's gotta be tired by now."

"Kellye has Shannon," Hawkeye added after him, multiplying the glassware in its wayward spot. "I think I'll pick her up. It's her bedtime anyway."

While Trapper said something about being with Louise and the girls, Charles felt like he was not a part of this and opted to remain behind with me to tell Margaret the truth. He continued drinking as she entered without noticing their escapes, fists clenched to punch somebody. Indeed, Charles was the picture of calm. This infuriated Margaret more.

"You!" she yelled. "You! How could you?!"

"Margaret, I am surprised," Charles said with feigned concern. "You know that Jeanie has been trying to rest. Bringing so much excitement will not be good for her and the baby."

"It's not you I am looking for, you creep!" she replied. "Although you instigate far too much! Where are those degenerates?"

"Somewhere that isn't here obviously." Charles waved his hands around my bedroom. "They took flight with excuses as flimsy as their wings."

"You better be right, buster." Margaret was so fast and furious that she was soon in Charles' face, with a finger close to his nose. "If I find you responsible, you'll be sorrier than the others!"

She hardly gave me an apology. I didn't expect one. Glad to be ignored, I wiggled my fingers in farewell and heard the former head nurse stomp downstairs. When Keith and Dad ask her downstairs if she was ok, she shouted that she had enough and to leave her alone. With such concern, they asked themselves what had gotten into her.

Nearby, Charles chuckled. "She is still a hurricane, isn't she?"

"Quite." I raised my glass and took another gulp.

Charles finished his drink and got up to crunches under his feet. He cursed loudly and excused his words. Apparently, he forgot about the abandoned pieces Hawkeye and BJ left and stepped on it, enough that both broke. Shards popped up from the hardwood. Luckily, he was not hurt.

"Fret not, Jeanie," Charles announced. "I will have this mess cleaned up. Those barbarians will pay for their mistake."

I was about to noise a complaint about being able to do it myself…until I remembered that I wasn't supposed to be getting up. Charles didn't even notice my confusion. He left and called Hawkeye and BJ up, interjecting into their sudden new conversation. The two were back in the living room, arguing with Margaret about their prank. Trapper had somehow managed to escape.

I knew that it was going to be a while before Hawkeye was coming back. He was also going to be too intoxicated to be able to clean up his mess. Charles was going to be lost without having somebody to help and might have to corral his help. I had to do it myself.

I had not been walking much the last couple of days. I flexed my legs before daring to stand on my own. When my feet hit the floor, they were as shaky as before, but were excited about this giddy freedom (I mean, it was a few steps and not a walk on the beach). Off and running, I was soon waddling over. I didn't have an aide or anything to hold onto to. For the first time in some months, I was liberated from the strain of assistance.

It didn't last too long anyway. I got to the end of our bed (which, by the way, did not have anything at its foot) and collapsed on my side. I missed the untidiness by inches.

Footsteps quickly stomped up the stairs. Hawkeye and Dad were already by my side. BJ and Charles were close behind. All of them – sober, I might add – kept shouting questions at me all at once, enough that a large crowd formed in our hallway. I dismissed them with a hand wave and got up on my own, gripping the end of my mattress tightly.

Suddenly, I was annoyed with myself and felt foolish. I was also embarrassed. I should have been following through with my bedrest, not being a housewife and hostess. It was too easy to fall back into that trap, even if it was at the foot of my bed.

Dad saw this and pushed the crowds back. "She's all right," he announced. "Show's over. Back downstairs, everyone."

A pissed off Margaret tried pushing herself in to help, but BJ blocked her pathway. She demanded that she enter because she was in charge. That was when Charles made himself second defense. He stood next to BJ in the doorway and began arguing with her, arms crossed. When the accusations grew louder, Dad had to get involved. Hawkeye helped me back into bed just as Margaret hmphed and left.

"When are you ever going to learn?" BJ asked me.

"Learn what?" I pretended to be innocent, going as far as batting my eyelashes for good measure. "I didn't do anything strenuous."

"To hell you didn't," Hawkeye mumbled under his breath.

"Hawkeye, don't," Dad warned.

"I told you I was going to get this cleaned up," Charles added. He looked at me specifically.

"And nothing is near completed," I complained. The childish façade was abandoned for now. "Listen, we all had some excitement. Why don't –"

"No, you're not calling the shots," Dad declared in his best parental voice that allowed no arguments. "Not right now anyway. If I have to hogtie you to your bed, so be it. Stay. In. Bed."

"So, you're giving me a dream come true?" Hawkeye asked him.

"Oh, what a wonderful night it is to be gagging in the bedroom," I sang in my Debbie Reynolds voice.

"Oh, Jesus," BJ muttered.

"Here we go again," Charles said at the same time.

"Can you believe them?"

"Beej, I can hardly understand why their childishness continues to this day."

Charles and BJ went on about our immature sexual comments for a few minutes, taking it downstairs with them. Dad looked at us funny, cocking his eye and raising the eyebrow. He had a few comments on the tip of his tongue, I'm sure, but he kept it to himself. It was enough we swept the seriousness under a rug.

"I'll leave you two to it then," he only stated. He seemed resigned. "I'll send Shannon in to say good night in a few minutes."

This left me and Hawkeye. We peered at each other with our guard down finally. Without words, he knew how I felt. I didn't need to hear from him again how important it was to remain stationary. I read his face though – so full of worry and anxiety – and noted how much he truly needed me, in the here and now and how strong he had to be. It made me guilty all over again.

When he leaned in, I kissed him. "I love you."

Hawkeye returned the favor. Soon, we were diving deeper. In-between kisses, he replied back in the same manner. Before I knew it, he was on the bed and using his best vampire techniques on me, enough that I was laughing and pushing him away all at once. However, when he heard small feet threading across the hallway to come in, he pulled away and portrayed himself as the perfect angel.

When Shannon weepily said good night and left, Hawkeye was back at it. The problem was, he kept getting interrupted. BJ and Charles wanted another drink, so he picked up the pieces I went for and told them to wait. Then, Trapper actually wanted to say goodbye. Off he went again! And then, Shannon was up with Erin, wanting another bedtime story…

Eventually, the last time Hawkeye arrived, I told him to just enjoy himself. He didn't to always be near me and I told him so. I was ready for some alone time anyway. I need some time to ponder the events of the last few days. It had been pretty damned busy. But what got to me was how quickly things changed. It wasn't just the people here that have transformed. I felt something was off between myself and my family.

With a start, I realized something. No longer was I referring to my father-in-law by his first name. Without thinking about it, I noted to myself that he was Dad now.