Baby Watches Over The Nurse

The makeup from last night’s shift still lies on my tired eyes. The distinct smell of hospital and old people rests in my greasy messy bun. I lie in my bed and reach for the phone on my nightstand. It was Wednesday, July 18th, 2019. I reread the date and tears filled my eyes. I rubbed my belly, wishing that I could still feel the hard kicks and uncomfortable squirms. My due date of my first baby girl was today. I looked over at the ultrasound sitting peacefully on the wall next to me, hanging by a pink thumbtack. The image put a fire in my heart and a river in my eyes. I was not looking forward to the twelve hour Emergency Room shift today. I just wanted to sleep. I wanted to be at the hospital but for a different reason, giving birth. 

I bent down and picked out my Winnie the Pooh scrubs from the bottom drawer of my dresser. They were slightly wrinkled but I did not care today. I walked into my bathroom and turned on all hot shower water. I reached my hand in to feel the temperature just to realize it was not hot at all. I sighed in despair, stupid hot water tank. I didn’t care enough. I stepped into the shower and let the cold water hit my face. The old mascara floated down the drain along with loose strands of hair as I took down my greasy brunette hair. My hair brushed the back of my neck and gave me a chill, more than the water did.

The soft towel wiped the water droplets and tears from my face. I didn’t even feel better. I couldn’t call in sick. I’d have half of the hospital staff at my house seeing if I was dead. I did not need people asking if I was okay today. I would instantly break down. I glanced at the clock. I needed to dry the tears and hurry up. 

The car ride to the hospital was long and quiet. I never turned on the radio the whole way there. I didn’t even remember driving there. My mind was focused on what life would’ve been like if I was giving birth today, what my baby girl would’ve looked like, if I never would have met Daniel. 

Daniel, the love of my life, in the past, was a 26 year old male, tall, tan colored skin, brown floppy hair, and the most beautiful and wicked smile I had ever seen. I met Daniel at a coffee shop on campus when I was taking nursing classes. I was sitting all alone my beautiful blonde curly hair resting on my back. My glasses were sitting on the edge of my nose as I studied for my final exam. Daniel walked in and gave his wicked smile. He was a business and finance major. He bought me a cookie crunch coffee and sat with me while I studied. We laughed and talked, it was such a splendid time with him. He was late to class so he slipped me his number and ran off. 

I hesitated calling him for about a week. I went to the coffee shop everyday since I met him, hoping he would come searching for me. One night, I got up the courage and texted him. He quickly responded. We stayed up until my first class talking about our future life. I felt as if I had known him for a lifetime. We met at the coffee shop the next day. We began hanging out everyday. Soon, what seemed like pure magic, turned to evil. 

I found out I was pregnant. I couldn’t tell Daniel. I was too afraid. We had only been talking for about a month. I had to tell Daniel though. I couldn’t keep this a secret. That’s where I made the biggest mistake. 

Daniel and I were at the coffee shop. I had a white bag with a blue bow sitting next to me. He kept poking at the bag, trying to guess what secrets it held. I handed him the bag and walked out of the coffee shop. I stood by the side glass watching his facial reactions. His face turned beet red. He opened his wallet and slammed a twenty on the table. Leaving the bag on the table as well. I wanted to run but my feet were stuck to the ground. My knees were shaking in fear. He flung open the door and put a tight grip on my right arm. He opened the passenger seat of his Ford and threw me in. He never said a word. 

We got to my dorm on campus and I only remember his two words, “Get out”. Those words beat in the back of my head. That was the last I thought I would ever see Daniel. I was very wrong. That was not the last of Daniel. 

Four months later, the day after I found out that my baby would be a girl, the worst thing imaginable happened. I had removed Daniel’s number from my phone. I was absolutely disgusted at how he reacted to the news. However, I got an apology text from him, saying that he wanted to be in the child’s life, if I was still carrying. I agreed I thought it was sweet. We meet at our usual coffee shop spot but Daniel wanted to go for a drive. The next thing I knew we were flying down the highway towards my hometown. It was mainly semi trucks surrounding us. I had asked Daniel to slow down but instead he jumped from the car. I didn’t realize what had happened until I was in the emergency room. Gladly, with nothing but a break in my left ankle and heartbreak, a total tragedy. 

A miscarrage due to instant traumatic impact caused by the accident. I was truly devastated. The pain in my leg never would amount to the pain in my heart. I never heard anymore from Daniel or about him. The police never followed up with information about him. I had cases of severe depression and anxiety. I dyed my hair brown in hopes if Daniel found me he wouldn’t recognize me. 

Fast forward two years later, even through my pain I still managed to finish college, get my degree, start a full time job switching between the Emergency Room and nursing home, I grew closer with my family, and got engaged. 

My twelve hour shift at the hospital finished. I didn’t drive home in silence. I turned on my radio and jammed to my favorite music. I smiled and laughed. I cried tears of joy. My baby girl was looking down over me and I knew it. On the drive home I had an idea. 

I got home and flung open my laptop lid. I began researching how to become a foster parent. I was so incredibly thrilled with the idea and looked into getting my fostering license. In my eyes, I'm still a mother. I’m going to be a new mother and I am so excited.