Megan sighed deeply again as she struggled unsuccessfully to find a more comfortable position for her hugely pregnant body in the bed, as Erik snored deeply beside her. She hadn’t been able to get to sleep and felt a little resentful of Eric’s ability to sleep so heavily. She glanced at blue lights on the clock: 12:31.
It was an igneous night, the hottest of the summer and her due date had come and gone three days ago, and it seemed as though every moment made her torment worse. She felt apprehensive, delighted and anxious at the same time as she thought of the baby she would soon hold in her arms and have in her life. They had waited so long and had experienced many heartbreaking disappointments over the past few years, but it looked as though their dreams of having a child were going to come true , finally. She smiled as she stared into the humid darkness of the room, thinking about how she would feel the first time she held her baby in her arms, yet anxiety was right at the corner of her mind. Had she bought enough diapers and onesies? Should she have had Eric set up the crib instead of the bassinet? Would she be able to breastfeed as planned? Erik had seemed confused when he put in the car seat; had he installed it correctly?
She took a deep breath and tried to relax her mind. Her yoga training helped her with relaxing three-part breathing and she tried to assume the corpse position. Nope, the baby started jumping on her spine. Too hard to lay flat on her back; she rolled to her right side and pulled up her left leg. Pillow was too darned hot; reposition. Another frustrated deep breath. Eric’s breath was still deep and regular. She fought the urge to kick him so that he would be awake with her.
Naw, she didn’t really want to wake him. She knew that he had had his own problems sleeping lately. Normally he talked to her freely about his work but lately he had been very uncommunicative about it. She noticed him just staring off into space several times in the past weeks, but he refused to say what was on his mind. She wondered if he was worried about work or about the new responsibilities he would have as a new father. He seemed distracted and worried, but had assured her that she didn’t need to worry about a thing. He had built his own repossessions company from the ground up and was very good at it. In a city as large as Atlanta, there were always cars, trucks and motorcycles that needed to find their way back to the banks and finance companies. Still, she worried as she watched him pull the draperies aside and take a last peek outside at night before turning out the reading light. He had talked to someone about having a security system installed in the house, but hadn’t followed through on it yet.
She pushed the hot, wet sheet down from her body. Her cotton nightgown was already drenched with sweat and her hair tangled on her clammy forehead. What a rotten time to be so pregnant, she thought, sighing again. She tried in vain to wipe her sticky cheeks with the sheet.
Suddenly she heard a loud crash downstairs as glass broke and sprayed across the hardwood dining room floor. Her breath caught in her throat as she struggled awkwardly to sit up. She grabbed for his arm and shook it vigorously.
“Eric! Wake up!” she whispered in terror.
He was awake in an instant and sat up in the bed. He listened for a fraction of a moment.
“Megan; listen to me. You need to go into the closet and do not make a sound. Do not come out until I come and get you out. Understand?” he rasped as he quickly scooted out of bed.
“But…” she began.
“Just do it. Go!” he said as he reached into the drawer of the nightstand and removed his gun. She heard him quickly load the large pistol that she had never dared touch; without a sound, he moved out of the room. She clumsily got out of bed and tried hard to remain silent as she tiptoed across the room to the closet. As usual, she had to make several attempts to open the door from its swollen frame before it finally whooshed open unexpectedly. She knew she was making too much noise. As quietly as she could, she moved a few boxes aside and crawled into the thick humidity of the closet. The bedroom had been dark and hot; the closet was void of light and air as she pulled the door shut behind her and tried to position the boxes around her and sit down. Just the little movement required to climb her into the closet had drained her of breath and strength; getting settled in behind the boxes and bags had exhausted her. She leaned against the wall of the closet and tried to catch her breath as her mind raced.
Who was in the house? Eric had almost seemed to expect it and had sent her into the closet without giving it a moment’s deliberation; it had seemed as if he had planned for this somehow. Her heart quickened as she realized that he was in serious trouble; that was what had been on his mind.
Were these people dangerous? She wondered as she tried to slow her pounding heart. Of course they were, you numnut, she thought. Along with that thought was a very strong contraction that took her breath away instantly, and simultaneously, her water broke with a hot gush on the carpeted floor.
“Oh, my God,” she thought,” not now!” She knew intuitively and positively that she was in labor and that she was undoubtedly going to give birth to her first child in this dark oven. How could circumstances get any worse, she wondered as she tried to breathe with the pain as she had learned in her Lamaze class.
The deep pain began in her back and moved towards her navel and then down, deep into her body where she had never experienced sensations before. She fought the urge to cry out for Eric. She could hear angry voices downstairs and she knew she must remain silent no matter how severe the pain; she breathed slowly, not daring to utter a sound. The pain let up and she tried to get into a more comfortable position without making any noise. Her heart raced as she heard pounding noises and glass breaking downstairs; please God, protect Eric!” she thought as she eased into what she hoped was a more comfortable position. She heard a piece of heavy furniture topple over downstairs and hoped the noise downstairs covered her noise from moving a box a foot over. No sooner had she settled down when another pain ripped through her.
Much more powerful than the first, the pain radiated from her back and soon encompassed her entire torso. She felt as if she were being torn in two; jagged spasms made the hot, black room spin as she tried to ride it out without making a sound as the noises downstairs reminded her of the importance of her silence. Her heart leapt as she heard a gunshot from downstairs. She swept sweat and tears from her eyes with her forearm as she tried to keep from crying out in pain and fear. She wanted desperately to help Eric, but she knew she would help him and his child, the most by keeping silent and hidden away in the deepest recess of the closet.
Within moments another pain surged over her. Without a watch she didn’t know how close together the pains were, but she knew that they were one right after the other and that the urge to push meant the baby was coming soon. She concentrated on the pain and tried to breathe with it and work with it as the means of getting to the end of it; but it seemed to go on forever. She could barely get her breath between the pains and within a few moments, she began to feel a strong urge to push. She tried to relax and think about what she had learned in class and in yoga, but the noises from downstairs were at once distracting and disturbing. Bang! Another gunshot rang out and she heard a loud thud.
Push! The voice inside her said, refusing to be ignored.
Help Eric!” Her own voice sounded in her head. Silent tears came to her eyes and she pushed them away angrily. This was no way to have a baby!
She pushed, unable to refuse her own body as it commanded her to take a deep breath and bear down. She almost cried out with the pain as the baby’s head crowned, but stopped herself by biting down on a belt that she had found on the closet floor.
One more strong push that she couldn’t control and she felt the baby gush out onto the floor.
Quickly she reached for the baby and pulled the wriggling, wet and slippery body up to her breast.
Breathe! She thought as she struggled to clear its mouth with her gooey fingers to make an airway. She briskly rubbed and jiggled the baby as she held her breath. She couldn’t let the baby cry and give their hiding place away, but she had to make sure it took its first breath.
“Wah!” the baby blatted, cutting the silence in the blackness of the closet. Megan pulled the baby to her breast and tried to find her nipple and the baby’s mouth in the slippery darkness.
The baby slurped and grunted as it tried to connect to its instinctive home. Megan was all too aware of the noise the baby was making in the quietness that had overtaken the home. She hadn’t heard any noise from downstairs for quite a few moments: what did that mean? Had the baby’s cry reached its way downstairs and stilled the confrontation or was the confrontation over? She struggled to hear though the walls of the closet as she endeavored to keep the baby silent.
She had never been so terrified in her life. It the scuffle to get into the closet, the rapid and painful labor and birth of her child, she had not allowed her mind to think about one tiny detail: her claustrophobia. Her skin began to crawl as she realized that she was utterly trapped. The closet door always stuck in humid weather and she knew that when she had shut it behind her that it would take a strong hand from the outside to open it; and a kick to the bottom left side of the door. She strongly doubted that the door could be opened from the inside, even if she could pound and kick in an attempt.
She began to hyperventilate as she thought about her plight. Only Eric knew where she was; if something happened to him, who would rescue her? Certainly not whoever had broken into their home with a gun!
The baby started to whimper in her arms and she pulled it closer to her breast to quiet it. She could feel sweat dripping from her face as she listened for noises downstairs. Nothing. The baby wriggled, struggling against her tight hold.
“Shh!” Megan whispered into the darkness.
She began to hear soft footsteps on the carpeted steps; the baby whimpered and she pulled it closer still. She felt faint; the air was void of oxygen and it felt as if she were inside a rapidly heating oven. She gasped for breath as her brain swam against the tide of panic. The steps were coming closer; they were in the hallway just outside the door. She struggled to breathe quietly, but it was nearly impossible. She held the baby as tightly as she could against her breast to quiet it, thankful that it seemed to have gone to sleep.
Suddenly she heard sirens in the distance and she closed her eyes in grateful relief as she heard them approach.
“Damn!” she heard a man’s voice say, and then she heard the footsteps retreating down the stairs. She dared to take a deep breath now, feeling slightly safe. She heard glass breaking and furniture being pushed over as the heavy thudding of steps ran towards the back of the house. The sirens grew louder and within moments she heard them come to a stop outside of her home. She said a silent prayer to God for keeping her and her baby safe; please God; let Eric be alright!
The cops kicked in the front door and the house was quickly alive with the sounds of voices as they secured the house. She heard another shot in the backyard and caught her breath. It wasn’t over yet! Heavy footsteps plodded on the stairs. Suddenly she heard voices in the bedroom, and thankfully, one of them was Eric’s.
“Open the door, Eric!” she screamed, just as she heard the knob turn. She couldn’t take being inside the closet for another second.
It was several moments before the knob turned in just the right way and Eric kicked the door exactly at the right spot. Light and air rushed into the closet and Megan gasped for air and open space. Megan’s arms and legs were so cramped from being in the same position for such a long time that it took all of her energy to get them moving and pull herself from the dark sauna.
Eric’s hands reached for her and helped her out. As she became illuminated from the bedroom light, his eyes widened, realizing that she was holding a baby to her breast. He gasped loudly.
“Megan! You had the baby?” he exclaimed as he helped her the rest of the way out of her dark prison.
“Yes! I tried so hard to be quiet! What happened? Are you all right?” she asked, reaching her hand to stroke his stubbly face. There was blood on his cheek and she could see bruises starting to form on his sweaty forehead.
“Excuse me, but we need to look at that baby, ma’am.” One of the officers said, reaching for the child.
Megan instinctively pulled the baby away from him, looking down at the baby in her arms. It was dark blue. She gasped in horror, realizing that she had been holding the baby so tightly that she hadn’t allowed it to get air.
The officer gently took the baby as he spoke into the radio microphone clipped to the lapel of his blue uniform. He laid the child down; it was a girl, Megan saw. Our little Kylie, she thought. The officer began CPR on the baby’s tiny chest, and even tinier mouth. They watched, each parent holding their breath as the baby’s tiny chest rose and fell, rose and fell. The officer began gently compressing her chest, and then went back to blowing air into her rosebud mouth. He alternated his actions until the ambulance arrived. The EMTs rushed into the crowded bedroom and took over for the cop, who was sweating profusely from his work.
It was too late. The very breasts that should have given her life had cruelly taken it away.
