Page 33 of Judas

Orders are being discussed above me as I ache to hear Sadie's heartbeat on the machine I’m now hardwired to. They discuss the hospital and standby labor and delivery teams but I don’t give a fuck, I need to hear her heartbeat.

“Please,” I choke out. Tears begin to streak in white-hot trails over the apples of my cheeks. Searing down the dry skin until they drip onto the chest of my jumper, darkening the fabric strands with all of my salt-laced feelings.

They ignore me. I’m breaking into pieces over here and they’re ignoring me. I’m not some animal that’s wounded and needs to be put down! I’m a fucking person, I… I’m a mom… I’m a daughter… I—I can’t, won’t, think that. Handcuffs appear on both sides of me, two officers securing my wrists to the metal frame of the stretcher. Ensuring I won’t be going anywhere; not that I even want to when we need to get me to the hospital and get Sadie out.

I’m not violent, not dangerous, nowhere near a threat.

“Please, please!” I croak out again, tears steadily spilling from my bloodshot eyes. This was only supposed to be a checkup; make sure the both of us were okay and growing well. My labor was scheduled to be natural, even though I mighthave given birth at the prison, but now everything has changed in the blink of an eye. It’s consuming, leaving me drowning in a puddle of despair and no one is telling me a fucking thing. Don’t I still have patient rights? Isn’t ignoring them a violation of my rights?I’ve been left in the dark by the very people that are supposed to keep me safe.

Terrified and all fucking alone.

At the hospital, I’m nearly numb when I’m rolled into my labor and delivery room. Quickly hidden and locked behind the door, shame and judgement permeates the space that I’ll be bringing my daughter into. What’s that say for her first moments of life?

My escort officers come in and out to help change me from my prison jumper into a hospital gown. Needles, lines, fluids, medications, beeps of annoying machines, screaming mothers down the hallway, and the ever-present roaring in my ears.

“We got your records from Bluitt, Nadia, and see that you’ve been dealing with severe edema. The bloodwork we ran confirmed the inflammation you’re experiencing in your lower limbs. Then, looking at additional imaging, you have enough swelling in your tissue to make birth difficult. The doctor prescribed a loop diuretic to get the swelling down rapidly. Since you’re at the end of gestation, your child should be perfectly safe. Once you get that extra fluid out, we are going to induce you.”

“I’m not ready.” My voice is soft and raspy from crying over the past several hours. Feeling as if I have already lost a fight I thought I was going to win.

“N…Nadia, listen to me.” The nurse—think her name is Frankie—answers.“Your body is ready, your daughter is ready, I know your heart isn’t, but you have to do this to keep both of you safe.”

“Push, Nadia!” Frankie barks at me, a hospital drill instructor if I’ve ever seen one.

“No!” I scream back. I have respect for her, but fuck her.

I don’t want to do this and they can’t force me to do it because of my autonomy. Sadie is crowning and I… I just can’t. I can’t let her go. I can’t let strangers take my baby home with them and possibly never see her again. I can’t give her away when she’s all that’s left of Kace. So, I fight against the contractions. Where most women scream to give them the strength to push their babies into the world, I do it to draw the pressure away from my hips and stop progression.

Frankie lets go of my right leg and grabs my face, making me look at her while I struggle against my restraints. Both my hands are cuffed to the metal frame under the plastic guard rails of my hospital bed; a bitch to work against, but even as they bite into my skin like dull knives, I use the pain to help keep me from pushing. Focused on Frankie, my gaze slides over her features and quickly notes them, cataloging my surroundings during a time that should be happy but is instead encased in heartfelt agony.

Frankie has smile lines that frame her thinning lips, crows feet at the corners of her hazel colored eyes, and a slight yellowing to her teeth from either smoking or having her millionth cup of coffee. She’s almost everything I would picture thecoolauntto be. Long and wild curly hair, a few sun spots that she probably should get looked at, and a Janis Joplin-type voice. I bet you she has midnight margaritas and sages her house.

Holding my face as cold sweat drips down from my hairline and along my jaw, she keeps her grip while speaking low and softly to me. The pitch so calm and unhurried, it’s almost as if she’s telling me a secret..

“You‘ve got to push, Nadia. Sadie is coming and she deserves her first breath. You’re doing the right thing, allowing her to be adopted. She’s going to be loved so damn much, you understand me? Her dad is going to watch her grow up and become the best part of both of you. But the only way that can happen is if you push. Put her life over yours.”

Push, babygirl, let’s see her pretty face.

The low timber of his voice haunts my thoughts and breaks me further but they’re right. She needs to be brought into the world because she’s supposed to be here, for whatever reason. Whether that’s to give me something to live for, or to give the world another Patton. Whichever. This isn’t her pain, her sin, or her fault. Giving her what she deserves is the least, and simultaneously the most, I could do. When the next few contractions hit, I give Sadie everything I have. Pushing until my face starts to throb and my vision tunnels, pushing my blood pressure higher and higher before my whole fucking world screeches to a sudden stop.Blood curdling wails pierce the chaos of the labor and delivery room when my daughter takes her first breath.

Tilting my head in a near snap, I look for her. Frantically searching for the one person I have waited my entire life for. When I finally see my little girl, her tiny face is red, eyes squeezing in that pitiful angry way babies cry. Her arms are reaching out, board straight and shaking, legs doing the same thing while they cart her away. As she cries so loud, she shivers and makes the sound vibrate. What was left of my heart pumps a few times then stutters.

“W… wait,” I plead breathlessly.“Let… let me see her, please.”

Can they not hear me? Am I still awake?

“Please… need to see her.” My throat is on fire from screaming, raspy and raw.

Unfocused eyes follow the nurse who has my daughter in her grasp, getting too damn close to the door with her. Unable to stop myself, I begin yanking and pulling against the cuffs. The metal bites but I pull anyway, knowing there’s no fucking point; the metal will far outlast my flesh. I still have to do something, fight to get to her before she’s gone for good. I… I only want a few minutes. Hold onto her, hug her close, kiss her tiny forehead, whisper all the things to her that I will never get to say. Let her feel how hard my heart beats for her and only her.

Another irrelevant nurse growls at me, “Nadia, be still! We have to get the afterbirth out!”

“Bring my fucking daughter back!” The sound of my voice is harsh, drenched in desperation and laced with underlying threat, while I stare at the one who exits through the door with Sadie. What is only a simple barrier, keeping those who don’t need to be watching at bay, feels like eons of space and time slamming shut.

“SADIE!”

Chapter twelve

Kace

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