Chapter 9: In Which Guilt Settles
"Oh John, what we ever do to deserve this?"
The long tearful sobs of Mrs Anderson could be heard by the nurses in the other wing. They kept their distance and watched from the bedsides of the elderly patients, with looks of empathy. A black nurse in a blue gown and white plastic sanitary gloves stared the longest, being the oldest of her colleagues and having two small children of her own. It was always worse when it was a child, she had told her much younger fair haired assistant, it was hard for anyone having to care for a disabled relative, but the patients in her wing were as close to death, even before they developed multiple sclerosis, though they had lived happy lives and if not always happy, certainly fruitful; through wars, civil rights movements and even the moon landing they had seen many spectacular sights in their time. For a child to die, or to be stricken with such a painful ailment or immobilization, without ever experiencing the things life had to offer them, to a parent, was the worst pain of all.
In a corridor, Mrs Anderson stood hugging the midsection of her yellow and navy striped sweatshirt. Her eyes had become brown pebbles and her cheeks were pale and drawn in from the shock of grief. Her stomach had tightened, dangerous for the delicate lining inside of her. It felt as if someone had thrown a powerful blow, to which she was yet to recover, as she breathed slowly in and out, a heavy and painful stitch starting to form.
"I can't do it anymore John," she wept to her husband, facing the glass, "I wanted to bring a new baby into the world but-not like this!"
"It'll be alright, I promise."
"How? How can you promise such a thing? When our first born baby is lying hooked up to a machine! Did you not see them installing that dreadful thing after we left the room? They did it in front of us!"
"I know, but-"
"They know something we don't John! Why else would they be looking so calm. They act as if it's nothing, they put her on that horrible loud thing because they know she might not even last the night!"
"Now don't say that!" her husband said firmly putting both arms around her, "That's not going to happen, you hear? Anyway, the doctor said her condition has stabilized for now. We won't know anything until the morning."
"It might be too late by then!" his wife wailed, "It's not fair! If I had just picked her up from school-"
"Do not blame yourself! If it's anyone's fault it's mine! Why did I ever buy her that stupid bike!"
Mrs Anderson turned away, back towards her reflection in the window. She blinked away more tears, trying to compose herself.
"Do you think she'll ever get to meet her brother or sister?"
"Which one?" he asked turning towards her expression serious.
She gave him a stern look. "What kind of a question is that to ask? You know how I feel about that! I mean her real sibling. My bundle. I wanted to surprise her when I was a little more due, but-" she exhaled. "Now. It's like I'm having one child, and...losing another..."
She melted into his arms again, as he patted her hair. As he did so, he stared straight into his own reflection, and realised that his partner's words had a streak of truth to them. "Why the hell did I forget to close the garage door...?"