Carry You - part twelve
I wanna note going in that this chapter contains details of a premature fetus as well as character reactions. The feelings portrayed are in no way a statement or position to convey any sort of righteousness on the subject of life and choice. There is no lesson in this passage, only an experience, one that is personal.
That said, if this might disturb you, I suggest skipping the first section of writing, as this chapter is otherwise relatively light.
Acceptance. It was such a loaded, painful word. It didn't mean a shrugging off of events or circumstances, it meant a complete exploration of details and all resulting thoughts and feelings. To truly accept something was to have grieved it fully. To grieve it fully was to face it head-on and challenge the inherent reactions within.
It wasn't exactly natural for Marianne to grieve the way most envisioned grieving. Sure, it looked different on everybody, but for Marianne, there was no clear line between it and overt avoidance. Denial melded quickly into isolation, which bled into her anger. Anger walked with her into her doctor's office where she succumbed to bargaining to make sense of it all. Depression swallowed her, drowning her as the claws of more potential loss desperately pulled her down.
Scraping the murky, muddy bottoms of that despair the night prior, she could hardly see any light at all. But the moment she knew that Bog was okay, there it was, dim yet glowing above her. And she realized she could move. She may not be able to hold her head up above this depression without help, but she could certainly maneuver through it. She could make her own way.
And she chose to make her way back to Bog.
They held onto each other as best they could in his narrow hospital bed. The arm furthest from her cradled to the area of his thoracotomy, the feeling of it likely quite tender despite all the pain medication dripping through his IVs. Marianne stared down at his chest as he spoke, paranoid that the rise and fall of it would change or cease.
"Dawn brought her to me, in an adjacent room," He spoke in a still manner, his words coming in short puffs across the top of her head, "I heard you, crying... screaming... Jesus, it killed me".
Marianne cringed at the memories he was invoking, "I didn't want to hold her..."
"I know," he mumbled sadly, squeezing her arm, "Dawn, she... was so gentle and strong and loving with that tiny thing. My first compulsion was to not look, not let this become any more solid than it already had. But your sister... she just placed her in my hands without a word..."
Marianne shifted, her eyes burning at the images conjured deep in her mind.
"I just stared at her. Her skin was... almost translucent, but... She was whole, just a tiny, perfect baby. She had your nose, ten fingers and toes... fingernails, of all things, and just this peaceful look to her face".
"Really?" Marianne looked up at him.
"Yeah," he nodded, "It was like she had not known a single ounce of pain. She had been alive and then... she just wasn't anymore, she just slipped away. But I got to hold her, I got to be there at the end and... it felt like such a privilege".
She stared at him reverently, aching to understand the emotion of his words, but only coming away with more of her own heartbreak. She was choking on sobs again, it was no help that Bog himself had teared up recounting those moments, fresh and sharp still.
"She was our daughter," He sounded amazed, "I could wrap my mind around that idea immediately, but now I can't get it out. And then, as many hours as I was sitting there, memorizing her, they took her from me, set her in a box and left, and I found myself panicking because the image of her was fading so quickly. I lose bits here and there and I find myself trying to keep hanging on, as painful as it may be. I can't stop thinking about her and I wanted, more than anything, to share it with you. I wanted to grieve with you, yes, but... I wanted you to know how real she was, how much I could have loved her... I wanted to love her with you".
Marianne buried her face against his chest, sighing. She wished she could just melt into him, that the closeness might dull some of the sharp, shattering pain in her chest, that they might complete each other.
"I'm sorry," she managed to push out.
"Shh," he stroked her hair once more, "I know... but it's okay. We're together now".
She nodded gently, wishing she could just undo anything about the last weeks, that she could have let herself break sooner and be done with it. That the end of this torture may lay somewhere within sight. She took a deep breath and let it out as a long, almost soothing sigh.
She had now and she had Bog. It was a decent start.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"It's not in your hands".
Gloria's words burned through her brain over and over in the following week. That week saw nights spent at the hospital, a relatively neglected clinic, every kind of therapy for Bog, and a patient oddly comfortable with her inevitable demise.
It was also the week she started her antidepressants, and Marianne found herself wishing they could kick in a little faster than she knew they would.
That morning, she had to deal with the death of one of her patients. An elderly man with prostate cancer who had spiralled quickly. He was terminal and the family knew he was not long for this earth. Yet, they had made arrangements for in-home hospice and he was to be moved in the next couple of days.
Marianne found herself moping around after talking to the family for the last time. They were accepting, crying softly, but hurt that he had to die in the hospital. It hurt Marianne, too. She wanted her terminal patients to have a peaceful end, they deserved it. The hospital was anything but peaceful.
When she acknowledged her poor mood and its source, her first inclination was to talk to Bog about it. It surprised her a bit that this was not accompanied by the anxiety usually inherent to such a disclosure.
Maybe her meds were starting to work after all...
Unfortunately, Bog had lung tests that morning and she was barred from meddling. Instead, she decided to go grab some coffee and go over her charts. She barely got through the first on her tablet before her phone started ringing. Oddly enough, it was Sunny.
"What's up, Sunny?" She answered, leaning back in her armchair.
"Oh uh... good morning Marianne," He sounded nervous, "Um... Dawn is ending her shift soon, right?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah, she had the early rotation... I think they just finished up a C-section, actually. Shouldn't be but another hour before she's off".
"Okay, okay, good..."
Marianne leaned forward, "Why? What's going on?"
"Uh... can you meet me out in the courtyard real quick?"
"Hm," She looked down at her tablet, "Sure?"
"Great! See you in a minute!" He hung up.
Marianne wasn't sure what to expect, Sunny sounded so tweaked. But if he had come all the way here through the insanely accumulated snow, it must have been important. And it better be, she thought, knowing she would have to go back to her locker to get her jacket.
When she finally made it out the door, she immediately cursed the sky for the bitter cold and weighed the benefits of turning right around and going back in.
Unfortunately, she could already see Sunny waving to her from the reflection garden, hopping from foot to foot from either excitement or the chill. She sighed, watching it float away on a fogged breath, and started to plod her way across the heavily salted walkway.
"Dr. Fairman?" A woman on a bench she was making her way past stood up and addressed her.
Marianne stopped, a little annoyed at first at the distraction, but then registered the somewhat familiar accent. With a blink, she turned to face her.
"M....Mrs. Mendes?" Marianne asked. She was fairly certain that this older woman was the same one who had bombarded her with food gifts the first time she treated Gloria. She was tall, she had the same facial features and rich eyes as Gloria...
But she looked like she had aged a great deal more than three years.
Nonetheless, the woman nodded, "How is my baby?"
A switch went off in Marianne's head, "your baby?"
"Gloria," The woman needlessly clarified, "Is she doing okay?"
"No," Marianne answered before thinking, "She's really not".
Mrs. Mendes held herself over the middle at the words, as if she had been punched in the gut, her face crumpling in seeming agony.
"Why haven't you seen her?"
This is really not what she wanted to do. Confronting a patient's mother in front of the hospital, making someone else's family issues her own. And yet... she thought of Gloria and the calm strength she was emitting. She thought of the inevitable battles she would soon be losing. She thought of the baby that would be left alone.
"She went against the family. I can't see her like that," the woman explained, like it was the most natural thing ever.
"Like what? Pregnant?" Marianne asked, the woman flinched, "She IS your family. Why isn't that enough?"
"It is shameful," the woman explained, a tremor to her voice, "To have a child out of wedlock is one thing... but to do it by choice... and with no father..."
Marianne reined in her bubbling anger, knowing how much worse she could make the situation. She stilled herself and took a deep breath.
"Whatever you may believe... or whatever family pride got bruised... Your daughter is dying. And your granddaughter is in grave danger of going with her".
"Granddaughter...?" Her voice was a reverent whisper.
"I suggest you consider carefully your priorities in your daughter's remaining time," Marianne turned again to leave before she pushed it any further, "You're running out of it".
Mrs. Mendes stayed quiet, solemn as she sunk back down to her seat of the bench. Marianne hurried away.
"What was that?" Sunny asked when she finally got to him. He had a guitar case slung over his shoulder that she had not noticed before.
"I dunno, probably me making more trouble for myself," Marianne shrugged, burying her hand in her jacket, "So what's the big deal? Why am I out here in the cold?"
"Oh! Sorry, uh..." He was shifting around nervously again, "I wanted to ask you if I could, um.... y'see Dawn... getting off work and um..."
"Jesus, Sunny, just spit it out," Marianne groaned, "I won't be feeling my toes soon".
He swallowed, "I want to ask for... Dawn's hand..."
It took Marianne a minute, "wait... today?"
He nodded vigorously.
"Here?"
He nodded again.
She looked skeptically back at the hospital and then back to Sunny, who looked like he was about to burst, "How?"
"Well... I was hoping you could help me with that".
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It turned out, there were a great many things that she did not want to do that day that found their way into her schedule.
Convincing Dr. Barton to go along with this little plan was one thing, but the nurses were an entirely different manner. Nurses were the reason hospitals didn't fall apart. A large part of that was due to their impeccable management of time and resources.
Neither of which they were particularly enthusiastic towards squandering for the shenanigans of some doctors. Thank goodness there was Sunny.
And he was currently laughing with a group of them crowded around a nurse's station. They glanced over their shoulders every so often to glance at Marianne, who had been unsuccessful at talking them into their acceptance of the afternoon's proposed "activities". Sunny, on the other hand, had charmed them completely. They fawned over him and his plans.
"Thank you so much, you guys," He smiled, leaning back from the counter to leave, "I'll never forget this. You're real lifesavers".
"Yeah, someone tell the doctors that!" One of the women added. The group erupted in laughter again.
Marianne rolled her eyes as Sunny came back over.
"You know, that's probably why the nurses don't like you," Sunny commented at her gesture, "So dismissive".
"Like you know anything about nurse/doctor relations..." Marianne grumbled as they both turned to walk down the hall, crossing her arms.
"I worked in the cafeteria, hotbed of gossip, for two years," Sunny shrugged, "So probably more than you, at least..."
"Talking a lot of shit for someone trying to marry my sister..."
Sunny chuckled, "Alright, alright. Just got one last thing to take care of..."
"An emergency..." Marianne tapped a finger over her arm.
"I don't really like luring her under the pretense of peril..." Sunny frowned.
"Well, maybe we can find some good news, but this is a hospital..."
They were interrupted by her pager going off. She lifted it up and sucked in a hard breath seeing that it was Gloria again.
"Sorry, Sunny, I gotta answer this one," She explained, "I'll see what I can do, just.... stay out of sight someplace for now".
He nodded his confirmation before she left to the elevators.
It wasn't a 911, but she was fearful nonetheless. Gloria was not getting better, so she generally accepted that any news was bad news. Having just met with her mother earlier that day, she wanted even more time for the woman.
So much was unsettled in her life, so much had gone awry. Not to mention, 22 weeks still left terrible odds for the baby. At the very least, Marianne would be satisfied if they made it to 26 weeks. Survival at that point would be up to 86% and the odds for no lasting disabilities could be as good as 30%. It wasn't ideal in the least, but it sure beat the odds of a baby who most doctors still did not deem viable.
She shouldn't have been so concerned with the baby and its chances, she really shouldn't. It wasn't her job. Gloria was her patient. But it was what was most important to her patient.
And it became very important to Marianne. She was just grateful she had such a reliable team to work with towards these goals.
By the time she got to her floor, she had talked herself down from thinking the worst.
Looking over the newly updated chart, that seemed like a perfect waste of time in retrospect.
"Hypertension? Seriously?" Marianne waved her tablet at the nurse, "A week ago, we could barely get a BP reading, now this?"
The nurse shrugged, "It's a common issue with pregnancy complications, especially exacerbated by a sedentary lifestyle".
Marianne sighed, flipping through a few more slides, "Dr. Barton will have to prescribe".
"I figured you ought to know as well," The nurse offered.
Marianne turned towards Gloria's room, but then stopped, remembering Sunny's point about her and nurses.
"Thank you," Marianne nodded to the young woman, "I appreciate it".
The nurse smiled and nodded back before turning back to her station.
"Hm," Marianne shrugged. That wasn't so bad.
"You spoke to my mother," Gloria confronted her the moment she stepped through the doorway.
"Oh," Marianne closed the door behind her, "Yes".
"You told her I was dying," She stated, her eyes were lined red and she clutched her rotund belly protectively.
"...in a roundabout sense, yes".
"And that I am having a girl".
"Yyyeah, that might have come up".
"I could have you… I dunno, like, fired from being a doctor or whatever”.
“Probably”.
Gloria sighed, sinking back against her pillow, “what’s the use”.
“You’d finally be rid of me,”Marianne offered, “Hey… I didn’t mean for all of that to come out. Your ma.... She kinda took me by surprise”.
“She does have a flair for the dramatics,” Gloria rubbed her belly, “Hence the cryptic phone calls in the last hour or so”.
“She hasn’t come to see you?”
“Pfft, no, she’ll probably just stick to stalking me until I kick the bucket,” Gloria looked out the window at nothing, “In the end, it’ll be my fault she didn’t see me. I’m supposed to beg for forgiveness”.
“Fuck that,” Marianne blurted without thinking.
Gloria’s face lit up and she laughed heartily, “Exactly! Fuck that…”
Marianne laughed as well, making her way over to the young woman’s bedside. She began to check her vitals as their shared mirth subsided.
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss her though,” Gloria said, clearing her throat.
“Of course,” Marianne check the bp machine.
“I miss my whole family, really…” Her voice dropped, a choke containing any words that may follow.
“Family can be… tricky,” Marianne breathed, “Yours seemed quite special to me before… warm, even”.
Gloria stayed quiet as Marianne checked her heart with her stethoscope. Her heart was still weak, it seemed, but it wasn’t worse.
“Things change,” Marianne continued, hanging her scope around her neck, “The older I get, the more I see that family isn’t a given. It’s work. It’s choice. It’s something you make every day”.
“I had a family, though,” Gloria shook her head, clutching her belly closer, “They were just there, I was blessed with them and then I made them leave”.
“That was their choice, not yours,” Marianne affirmed, “I’ve done my share of fucking up those choices myself, believe me. I shut my people out… because of hurt. I denied them in my own way. It didn’t matter how perfect they were, how good to me… It was up to me to close that distance”.
Gloria reached out and grabbed Marianne’s hand, giving it a squeeze, “I don’t want to die alone, Marianne”.
Marianne’s heart tugged painfully as she squeezed the woman’s hand right back, “You won’t, Gloria. I promise”.
There was an inflated companionable pause.
“You know about my blood pressure?” Gloria asked, pulling her hand away.
“They told you already?”
“I’ve been in the hospital long enough, I pay attention,” she nodded, “Is it preeclampsia?”
“Not yet,” Marianne shook her head, “But we need to keep it in check”.
“Kinda hard when I am stuck here all day…” Gloria grumbled down at the bed, “I swear, it’s like everything that can go wrong, will go wrong”.
“Hm, maybe it’s time to get you out of here,” Marianne looked to the door thoughtfully.
“What do you mean?”
“You wanna see something sickeningly sweet? Might lift your spirits…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As fates would have it, the perfect excuse presented itself to have Dawn paged to a specific room without faking a medical emergency.
Bog came out of his lung tests with discharge papers. Dawn would be overjoyed to hear and help facilitate his departure. When asked if he would participate, Bog gave Sunny a long, heavy look.
“Ye better make it good”.
Marianne smirked knowingly as Sunny stammered out an affirmative response. Dawn deserved only the best, Bog knew that and wanted that just as well as Marianne had.
Asking kindly, Marianne got the nurses to help her get Gloria a front row seat for what was to come with a set of scrubs and a comfortable chair at the nurse’s station. She was enthusiastic when she heard what was happening and for whom. It seems Dawn was an angel to every life she touched.
Marianne sighed after sending the fateful text to her sister and checking that everyone was in place. Her nerves were going wild.
“You okay?” Bog asked, pulling on his shirt.
Marianne nodded, “I just… feel life moving”.
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Marianne smiled, though it stung beautifully to do so, “It really is”.
The door to the room swung open suddenly and Dawn bounded in, “Boggy, you get to go home!”
“It would seem so,” He replied.
“I’m so glad, you healed up so well,” Dawn busied herself collecting items around the room and preparing him to leave, “Can I help walk you out? Who’s taking you home?”
“That would be me,” Marianne raised a hand.
“That is so great, do you need me to cover anything here for you?” Dawn asked with a warm smile for both of them.
“No need,” Marianne shrugged, “It’s all taken care of”.
“Alright then,” Dawn nodded and turned back to the door, “I’m just gonna go get the wheelchair, then…”
She swung the door back open, but immediately stopped, frozen in the doorway.
“What…?”
Marianne gazed over her shoulder just enough to see the edges of sparkling balloons and pink and white flowers that had not been there before.
Dawn chuckled, “Either someone’s really sick or really…”
She stopped talking when the hall was suddenly filled with the soft strumming tones of an acoustic guitar.
Marianne smiled, surprised. She had expected Sunny to play something spirited and fun, but the melody was slow and soft.
Dawn took some tentative steps out into the hall, looking around her perplexedly. Marianne and Bog filled in the doorway behind, watching it all unfold.
The strumming got louder over the AP and suddenly it was met with a voice.
“I'm gonna be here for you baby I'll be a man of my word Speak the language in a voice that you have never heard”
Dawn gasped, recognizing Sunny’s voice immediately.
“I wanna sleep with you forever And I wanna die in your arms In a cabin by a meadow where the wild bees swarm
And I'm gonna love you like nobody loves you And I'll earn your trust making memories of us”
As he finished the chorus, the sound shifted from the speakers, echoing from somewhere down the hall. Dawn was frozen to the spot, but craned her neck to try and locate him.
“I wanna honor your mother I wanna learn from your pa I wanna steal your attention like a bad outlaw I wanna stand out in a crowd for you A man among men I wanna make your world better than it's ever been
And I'm gonna love you like nobody loves you And I'll earn your trust making memories of us”
The end of the second chorus brought the music ever closer and then a gurney rounded a corner at the end of the hall. A couple of beaming nurses pushed it along as a crooning Sunny sat atop it, one leg across the other, bent over his instrument as he played.
“ We'll follow the rainbow Wherever the four winds blow And there'll be a new day Comin' your way”
The gurney slowed to a stop directly between Dawn, who now had her mouth covered with two hands, and the mess of flowers and balloons. Sunny hopped down, a smile splitting his face in two as he gazed at his love.
A small crowd had formed at the scene, watching intently and quietly.
Marianne reached out and grabbed Bog’s hand, bracing herself as she felt her heart race in the moment.
“I'm gonna be here for you from now on This you know somehow You've been stretched to the limits but it's alright now And I'm gonna make you a promise If there's life after this I'm gonna be there to meet you with a warm, wet kiss”
Sunny walked up to Dawn, who was now very obviously crying.
And then Sunny sank to one knee, still strumming, and the crowd collectively gasped.
“And I'm gonna love you like nobody loves you And I'll earn your trust making memories of us I'm gonna love you like nobody loves you And I'll win your trust making memories of us”
The crowd was hooting as Sunny finished out the song. Dawn was practically shaking, still stuck to the same spot. A nurse came and took his instrument for him, quickly ducking out of the way as Sunny reached into his pocket and pulled out the box.
Everything seemed to go crazy for a moment and Marianne watched as her sister’s knees wobbled, afraid she might fall over.
It all seemed to quiet down as Sunny clasped the box in his hands and gazed earnestly up at the blonde girl.
“Dawn,” he started, “You’ve made me better, you’ve made me the man I am, you’ve made me confident and proud… Most importantly, you’ve made me love deeper than I ever thought possible. I want to spend the rest of my life trying to return that favor. I want to spend every second holding you up, supporting you, watching you shine…”
There was a short pause as he held up the box.
“And so, if you’ll have me,” He opened the box, the hall light glinting off the small ring inside, “Will you do me the supreme favor of becoming my wife?”
“YES!” Dawn cried without letting a moment pass, diving into Sunny with enough force to knock him back.
The crowd went crazy, cheering as Dawn covered the young man in kisses and they both laughed.
Marianne let out a breath she had no idea she had been holding and smiled. Bog squeezed her hand and she looked up at him, realizing she had tears in her eyes. He gave her a small smirk before pulling her into his good side.
She felt slightly ridiculous. The whole scene was so undeniably theatrical and so…. Well, Sunny and Dawn.
Later that day, after all the congratulating, ring flaunting, and a very joyful thanks from Gloria, who had hugged Dawn, Marianne walked Bog through his front door, thankful for the quiet place.
It was jarring, being back in this place after a month or so. Nothing had really changed, but for a thin layer of dust over everything. She supposed it was what passed for his version of letting things go, though it may have simply accumulated in the week of his hospitalization.
“Sorry for the mess”.
“You’re… joking, right?”
He pointed to a glass on the counter, half full of water.
Marianne snickered, “And this is why you can never come to my place without advanced warning…”
He shrugged, placing his hospital bag of items on the counter, “There, two things”.
“Just like home…”
“Whatever helps,” He looked over at her, “that is, if you’re staying…”
“Yeah,” Marianne nodded, “yeah, I am”.
“Good,” he smiled.
“Come on,” Marianne motioned to the couch, “You still need to rest. I’ll take care of dinner”.
“You will?” He asked, skeptical as he took a seat.
“I have a phone, don’t I?” She was already tapping out an order on a handy mobile app.
“Fair enough”.
She finished and plopped herself down on the couch beside him.
“I missed your furniture,” She stated.
“My furniture?”
She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder with a nod, “Just the furniture”.
“You know…” He shrugged, “It could be OUR furniture if yer so fond of it”.
“Oh?” She smirked, “You’re not riding the high of a cheesy proposal, are you? Don’t get any ideas…”
“No,” he chuckled, “Heaven knows neither of us are fit for rushing into that… but I am fully invested in being able to wake up to you every morning. Sharing the bathroom sink, giving up half my drawer space, picking up your dirty clothes from the ground when you’re too tired to put them in the laundry bin…”
“Tired, lazy, whatever,”She chuckled.
“I’m serious, though…” He shifted, “If you want, I mean...You can move in”.
Marianne sat up and looked up at his averted eyes, “We JUST got back together”.
“But you’ve never stopped being the one I want by my side most,” He looked back at her earnestly.
Marianne’s breath caught, knowing that it was true, but finding her words trapped in her chest. She never stopped wanting him either…. But she was scared.
She moved onto her knees and reached up to cradle his face, turning it towards hers. She met his lips with her own in a gentle, but deep kiss, breathing him in, warm and familiar.
“I love you,” She whispered when she pulled away, staying close, “Let’s just take it slow”.
He nodded, smiling softly, “I can do that”.
His forehead pressed to hers as his shoulders sank, releasing tension and holding her close with his free arm. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, feeling every bit of comfort he had to offer, hoping she could carry this feeling with her for the rest of her life.
“Honestly, though,” She said when she settled back down into the couch with her head on his shoulder, “As soon as those stitches of yours come out, we’re banging”.
He sputtered out a hard, surprised laugh, “You’ll hear nary an objection from me”.
Apologies for the massive cheese and Keith Urban song... but c’mon, you know cheese and fluff is TOTALLY Potionless. And Dawn deserves all the sickeningly sweet things in the world at this point.
Enjoy it while it lasts, we have a couple more bumps to go before we wrap up ;)
