This is a fictional story written for the Story Cabin's writing prompt "Fever" performed by Peggy Lee.
Her husband was a truck driver, gone more than he was not. It was little wonder that when he did come home their passion burned so brightly and she had ended up pregnant again. Who would have dreamed such feverous hot passionate $ex could come to this? Caitlyn accepted the fact that she had to soldier on alone. It was simply the way things were. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Caitlyn knew that thepregnancywas rough. It seemed every time the wind blew, she vomited. Her coloring always was white and pasty tinged with green. Big as a beached whale, she could barely move, and with each day her pregnancy progressed she became more tired. She just wanted to make it to the planned c-section, have the baby, and then with the help of pain meds go on. Finally the c-section was scheduled. She could only pray this time she would have a healthy baby and everything would be OK.
The day came when she had to be at the hospital for her pre-op appointment. They would check her blood pressure, her weight, her temperature, whatever they did to clear her for surgery and then she would be on her way. Home she would go to pack her bag, clean her house if she had the energy, and prepare everything for the arrival of her newborn. She was excited for the birth, but she would have been lying if she wasn’t a little scared. She had been down this road before although she had never traveled as far. The only other time she had been pregnant she had lost her baby at 5 months. It had been devastating. She vowed to never try to become pregnant again. It was just too painful. Pregnancy was too hard. Why would anyone go through that hell voluntarily? She knew deep down, that she would. She wanted a baby. She had always wanted children of her own and as the years slipped by, the need became more urgent. That is probably why when the test was positive all those months ago her feelings were mixed with fear and excitement.
She woke early in spite of restless sleep from lower back pain for most of the night. The baby hadn’t moved much lately, but she wasn’t alarmed after all there couldn’t be a spare inch left for her precious bundle to move at this point. She started the day with her face in the toilet, much like every other day. She was so tired of vomiting. “It will all be over soon.” she comforted herself. She cleaned up, and with keys in hand went to the hospital to make her appointment on time. The day was hot and humid, but strangely she felt cold. Because of that, she switched off the air conditioning half way there and turned up the radio instead.
The nurse asked the usual questions. As each preliminary test was performed, the nurse became more obviously alarmed. When she was asked to step onto the scale, the world tilted and Caitlyn lost consciousness and fell to the floor. Smelling salts were fetched and soon she was revived wondering where she was and what had happened. The nurse had called for assistance, her doctor had been notified, and she realized she was being transported upstairs. There would be no going back home to pack. They told her they had notified her husband and he was on his way. Her mind struggled to process all of this, but she found she was too tired and simply couldn’t.
When she woke again she was in a room hooked to every machine imaginable and her husband was at her side. They weren’t alone. Her doctor was prepped for surgery. When he noticed she was conscious he moved to her side. He took her hand and looked into her eyes and explained she was not doing well. She was running a fever, the baby wasn’t responding as it should, and they were preparing her for surgery. They had to get the baby out in order to save it and her. “Not again!!” her mind screamed. She nodded her understanding and then once again closed her eyes. She was tired, and she was cold. She was terrified. “Please G0d, save my baby!! Please!!” she begged.
She was rushed to surgery, her husband at her side dressed in surgical scrubs holding her hand the whole way. “Stay with me!!” she begged him. Everyone told her that everything would be fine. They kept talking. She didn’t have the energy to answer them. She told them again she was cold, so very cold. Someone placed a warm blanket over her. They transferred her to the operating table, holding her as the anesthesiologist did his magic and administered the epidural. A sharp pain shot down her leg, and then she felt no more. She looked into her husband’s eyes as her baby was pulled from the incision exposing her womb. The little girl cried lustily. She took in the beauty of her daughter, smiled, and closed her eyes drifting away into the abyss for the last time.
The complications had been too great. The fever had burned too long and too hot. She died knowing her daughter would go on without her. The fever had triumphed in the end taking a life for a life until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
When I was about 31, I got into my head that what I wanted was to have a baby. My husband and I had been married 3 years and my biological clock was banging in my head. I had a lot of problems before that withendometriosisthat necessitated countless laser surgeries equaling loads of scar tissue, and a great deal of pain. Because of that, getting pregnant wasn’t as easy as I had imagined it would be.
I took my temperature, took drugs to make me ovulate, and drugs to make me stop. I was all out of whack. Finally after months of trying, I hit the jackpot. I was pregnant, and my husband and I were over the moon with happiness. From the moment I became pregnant, I was constantly sick with nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea. If a stiff breeze blew on me I would toss my cookies. I was completely miserable but at least I had a good reason. I was going to have a baby, and I couldn’t wait.
One day I heard the heart beat for the first time. Then came the unmistakable butterfly movements and the growing belly. When I was just past 5 months, I began to spot. My doctor immediately put me on bed rest and scheduled an ultrasound. I was so excited because I was going to see my baby for the first time, and if I was lucky discover its gender. I eagerly drank what seemed like gallons of water to prepare for the ultrasound and felt like I would explode if they so much as touched me.
I remember laying down on the table, feeling the gel they spread on my belly, and peering at the monitor searching for my baby. The technician was silent as she focused on the monitor. After a while, she patted my hand and told me she would be right back. I laid there oblivious. She came back carrying a telephone and told me my doctor would like to speak to me. Seemed a little odd at the time, but I had never had a baby before, or an ultrasound…so I didn’t realize this was a very bad sign. He cut right to the chase and broke my heart with the unsuspected news that my baby was dead. The sobs that spilled from me shook my whole body as the technician tried her best to comfort me. The doctor told me that the only way I would ever have the chance at a healthy baby was to remove this one as soon as possible. I agreed to the surgery to be scheduled in a couple days and went home devastated.
With the loss of my baby, I lost the desire to become pregnant. I quit taking the pills to make me ovulate and taking my temperature. I went on with life trying to forget, knowing I never would. Six months later, I was pregnant again. This time, I refused to get my hopes up and to believe that history wouldn‘t repeat itself. Even after I became noticeably pregnant and felt the baby kick often, I still couldn’t believe that this baby would survive through my gestational diabetes and high blood pressure. I was terrified it would die like the first.
Because of all the scar tissue, I was scheduled for a cesarean section. Right up to seconds before I was wheeled to the operating room, all I wanted was to have whatever it was that was making me desperately sick out of me. I wanted the pregnancy over with. I was tired. I was terrified, and certain that even though this baby appeared normal and fine that at the last minute it would die. I am 5 foot tall and at that moment, I resembled the blueberry girl in “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”. You could have placed me on my side and rolled me around. I desperately wanted to be sent to the juicing room and be squeezed till I was thin again. HA! You would have thought all that peeing would have done the trick.
I had a daughter! She was beautiful, and better yet…she was alive and healthy. The nurse brought my newborn over to me. She was screaming at the top of her lungs until I spoke to her. She immediately stopped and looked at me, and I dissolved into tears of amazement and happiness. I remember thinking at that moment that I was witnessing what life is truly all about.
With my daughter’s birth, I conquered and overcame my fears of being pregnant and coming out with a broken heart. Until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
