And I try not to imagine what I'll become if those doors open and she's gone.
CHAPTER 37
Sera
I’m so tired. From the blood loss, pain, terror, and the drugs the doctors had pumped me full of as they prepped me for a C-Section.
Yet I do my best to stay awake. I want to be there for my son.
My poor baby who I’ve failed over and over.
But my eyes are heavy, and I can barely focus on the sounds around me.
I take in the beeping of machines and the muffle of voices. Everything feels far away, and the more I try to grab onto things, the less I’m able to take hold of them.
"—vitals are stable?—"
"—blood pressure normalizing?—"
"—prepare the NICU?—"
NICU.
I panic and try to move. To speak.
But my body won't cooperate.
I want to scream but I can't find my voice.
Then nothing.
Just darkness pulling me back under.
I feel a tear slip down my cheek. I’m missing the birth of my son, and I hate myself for it.
When I wake again, it's different.
The beeping is still there, but it’s quieter, and things feel less frantic.
My eyes feel heavy. Sticky. I force them open.
White ceiling. Fluorescent lights. Hospital room.
I turn my head slowly. Everything hurts. My stomach. My back. My?—
The baby.
My hands move instinctively to my stomach.
Flat.
Empty.
Bandaged.
Panic floods through me. "No?—"
"Sera."
