It's happening again, the babies, I can see their faces, I can hear them, their cries torment me. I'm in a box, there's no way out of this, will I die here? No, they can't hurt me, I did nothing wrong, just what their mothers wanted me to do. I run towards the blank white wall hitting and shouting for help, the cries are getting louder, the babies are coming closer, I must escape.
I woke up with my body covered in sweat, it was just a dream, one of my many nightmares. I double tap my phone twice, it's 1:16 AM.
"I must be going mad, this isn't getting any better"
I take out my sleeping pills from the drawer beside my bed,
"Hopefully, this will help me sleep better"
It's been almost six months since I miscarried my baby, that was when it started, the nightmares that hunt me every night. A fresh out of medical school young doctor, I went into the field for the money and respect, I wasn't a religious person nor was I against anything anyone chose to do with their bodies. I helped several women and teenage girls get rid of pregnancies they didn't want, it was a baby yet so it wasn't killing.
That's how I felt till I got pregnant two years after my marriage, I always told myself having a baby wouldn't slow down my career so I overworked myself and miscarried 6 mouths ago, my baby was 5 months old, she didn't deserve to die.
"Maybe if I didn't get rid of all those babies, mine would have lived"
Those were the first words I said when the nurse told me I lost my baby, I guilt tripped myself into PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder). My husband had tried so hard to explain that it wasn't the case here but I didn't want to believe him. I refused to see my daughter's face because I felt I would never forget it but every night for the past six months I had been seeing the faces of the other babies I terminated.
There's a horn outside, my husband is back. He walked into the room smiling from ear to ear
"Good morning babe, guess what?"
There's a white envelope in his hands, I wonder what he's up to, I'm not in the mood for jokes. He hands it over to me, it's my lab results from two days ago, my jaw dropped as I read it's content, I'm three weeks pregnant. My eyes start to water, am I happy or sad? I put my left hand on the lower part of my belly,
"I will protect you, I'll see your face everyday for the rest of my life"
I look up at my husband with a smile, my nightmares may have come to an end.
Fascinating shift in perspective from a young doctor to a mother who miscarried:
A fresh out of medical school young doctor, I went into the field for the money and respect, I wasn't a religious person nor was I against anything anyone chose to do with their bodies. I helped several women and teenage girls get rid of pregnancies they didn't want... and after the miscarriage, every night for the past six months I had been seeing the faces of the other babies I terminated.
But good news, in the end, and if this is a true story, Congratulations!
I'm glad you enjoyed the story, it's just a fiction though.