Valentines Day. You have a date planned with your boyfriend of 14 months. You two go to a nice dinner and laugh and cuddle, hold hands, kiss, and play. Then you steal a risky trip to the empty house. You play around there, have fun, then he takes you back to your grandparents, where you mother is due any minute. Risky, yes, you two knew that. He leaves, and you feel exuberant. The love of your life is now on his way home. He will text you when he arrives, to let you know he's safe. Five minutes later, your phone lights up. Yep, he's home safe. You go home shortly after. Goodnights are exchanged and you two go to sleep.
Next month, you miss your period. Oops. You call up a friend, asking her to get you a test. She does. You take it when it's been five weeks after Valentines day. Positive. Uh-oh. So you start feeling queasy throughout the days. His mother asks you if there is a possibility of being pregnant, and you say yes. So, your boyfriend gets mad, dumps you, then tells your mother. She's pissed. You feel alone. Soon, your whole family knows. Your grandparents hate the father. Your mother is disappointed in you, and not a day goes by without her yelling it at you.
So you ride your horse. It gets rid of stress. He's your only friend. The world has turned its back on you, and it doesn't welcome you anymore. But your horse understands your pain. You get morning sickness, you vomit almost everything you eat back up. Nothing sits well. Weird cravings hit. The father still scorns you. But he still talks, he threatens to take the kid once it's born. He says he doesn't believe you when you tell him you're still pregnant. The first appointment is in April, the father doesn't get to be there, he's at work, besides, on myspace, some chick that he's been talking to says she loves him. You're too hurt to care.
At the first appointment, you're 10 weeks pregnant. You hear your baby's heartbeat, see its first ultrasound, see your lil peanut. You go home. You text the father and confirm it with him, and he replies "I don't want a kid right now, and I especially don't want any with you." You're hurt once again, but you are already in love with your child, that heartbeat was what stole you away. You start researching. When the first kicks should be able to be felt and whatnot. Morning sickness still proceeds, worse even. No matter what, you vomit it back up. You get back with the father, and things begin to look up. You're able to go places with him more, you're allowed to be with him without anyone saying anything. You two are somewhat happy. You make plans to move out when you turn 18.
Second appointment, your man takes the day off to be there. He hears the heartbeat. Third appointment, he is there again. It looks as if he'll cry from the heartbeat. June 19, 2009, you go for the anatomy scan. They say the baby is perfect, if a lil ahead. The doctor looks, and it's a boy. You and the father brainstorm on names... Bradley Duane comes to life. Your son, your baby, your future. your dear, sweet Bradley.
July comes around, and something upsets the father, and you and him constantly fight, over text since he refuses to see you face to face, since he knows one look in your eyes, and he'll forget all anger. You can feel your son kick now. The bond is already so strong. And you lie on the ground, when you stop texting, and you are getting ready to go to a party at your boyfriends house. You feel your stomach and hold your hand there. You felt Bradley kick your hand. This means others will be able to feel him also. You get excited and text the dad telling him to hurry. But when he gets there, Bradley is asleep or just being a turd and won't move. So he doesn't get to feel him kick.
You and your boyfriend have fun, you don't really attend the party, you are lying in bed together. Happy to be with each other. Then you go home afterwards. The next day, the fighting starts again. He is sick of you not being 18, and having to live with your mother. He begins to threaten to take Bradley away again. You are hurt, but you fight the tears. Every night, you tell your son that you love him.
July 4, 2009, your mother asks if you want to go to the casino to go to the Pow-Wow and watch the fireworks for Independence Day or if you'd like to stay with your grandparents. You don't want to go. You want to stay and just sit down. You go to the bathroom, and when you stand up, you hear a loud splash. Dread racks your body. Looking down, you see the blood. You begin to shake uncontrollably, and you lose it. You grab your phone, struggling to dial the numbers. You walk out of the bathroom, to the living room, where a program is showing off a wondrous display of fireworks. It's simply gorgeous. You finally manage to hit those 10 digits. Your mother finally picks up, after what seems like an hour of waiting.
With a trembling voice you ask her, "Do I wait for you, or do I have grandma take me?" she asks what's wrong, why whats happened, take you where? You reply "To the hospital, I am bleeding profusely." She tells you to get your grandma. You go to her, and she takes you. You text your boyfriend, tell him you're going to the hospital. That relaxes you a little, even though you had just been fighting with him worse than ever thirty minutes before. As your grandmother looks for a parking place, Rascal Flatts song "Here Comes Goodbye" plays, and you despise that song at that moment. You are scared. Your boyfriend arrives a minute after you, but he acts as if he doesn't know you, maybe he's scared too.
You get submitted almost immediately, even with the wait they heard pregnant and bleeding and they let you go back. They place you in the labour and delivery room. You sit there, and they hook you up to a machine that monitors his heartbeat. Healthy. You are placed in a hospital gown, and blood is just running everywhere. You're tired of it. You lie down, and they have to put a towel and a blanket to catch it, so the blood doesn't stain the bed. You sit there, Bradley is having fun making the machine sounds jump and scratch by kicking you as hard as he can. His heart is still beating. The nurse comes in and re-adjusts it, since his heart faded. She finds it, and in a weak voice you ask if the beats per minute are normal. She smiles sweetly and says "Yes, honey, his heart is strong and healthy."
The ultrasound technician comes in and does the ultrasound. By this time, your mother, grandmother, and boyfriend are in the room. The man finishes his job and walks out, dragging his machine along. Thirty minutes go by. The nurse answers a phone call, it's the on-call doctor. She hands the phone to you, and you take it, trembling, and scared. She talks so sweet and kind though. She tells you it looks as if your cervix is opening, and if the baby comes, there's no way they're going to stop it. You hang up the phone, and your eyes are watering like those of a seal pup just exposed to the ocean. You fight as hard as possible, but they betray you and the tears fall. Your boyfriend rushes to your side, kneels down, and hides his face in your hand, and he cries. So you cry too.
The doctor arrives, and you are given two choices. You can choose to just go as you are, stay in the hospital and what happens, happens. Or, you can have a catheter placed in, and you can try to push the water sac back into your uterus and if it succeeds, have your cervix sewn to support the baby. You have to fight for your son, so you take the cath. As they insert it, you feel pain. You squeeze your boyfriends hand as tight as possible, trying to avert your attention. Finally it's done, but it still hurts like mad. You are left there. Your grandmother left to go home. Your mother leaves to handle your siblings. Your boyfriends mother and sister visits for a bit then leave. Your boyfriend stays, falls asleep sitting up by your bed holding your hand. He never leaves your side. He strokes your hair when you look at him. His eyes are pigmented blue at that moment, the colour they get when he's sad, or hurt, but they're not just any blue, they're a bright baby blue, he had been crying.
You go through the night, barely sleeping. Pain explodes all throughout your body. The next day, you get nauseas. Your mother stops for a visit, and you vomit. And as soon as you vomit, you cry hard. Because you know when you vomit, pressure moves downwards. You're placing pressure on your son and you know it. You vomit once more, and you finally get a little break from the vomiting. Five o' clock rolls around, and your aunt and uncle come to visit. Your uncle sits down, he's not into the whole birth and pregnancy thing. But he still came. That means a lot. Your aunt gently touches your boyfriends shoulder, then rubs your leg, asking you if you're all right.
You twist to the left, and you vomit, before you can answer, tears clinging to your face. But that's not the only thing that gets wet. You hear it, the nurse hears it, you cry harder. Your water just broke. The nurse gently asks your aunt and uncle to leave the room, and she checks. Your boyfriend grasps your hand tight. Later you find out your aunt and uncle feel terrible about being there when it happened. The doctor is called, and she states they're going to induce you into labour. An IV is inserted, and it hurts, but you have to have it. Your boyfriends mother, sister, father, your mother, your boyfriend, they're all there. 5:56 P.M, July 5, 2009, you give birth to your son, Bradley. 5:56 P.M., July 5, 2009, Bradley passed away.
You hold your son's body... then hand him to his daddy. His daddy holds him gently, then cries. You lose it even more, and you grab him and hold him as best as you can. At 10 P.M., you're allowed to leave the hospital. You leave, and you have a bag of memories. You go home, and you ignore everything. You go to bed. You wish you would just disappear. You wonder why this happened to you. Why... What did you do wrong?
The next few day's, you're beside yourself. You don't want to be alive. You're like a soul-less beast walking around with no purpose. No heart. Your boyfriend tries to cheer you up. But you push away. You want your son. You miss his kicks, you even miss the morning sickness. You want to rip your heart out. You aren't happy. You start feeling pain, from walking. You're sore from giving birth. Finally, you let your boyfriend come in. He cheers you up. One weekend, you even got to let him stay the night. Three nights, you two slept in each other's arms. Three amazing nights of just cuddling. You finally perk up. But still, you hurt.
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Bradley Duane Mcvay
May He Rest In Peace.
Since losing him, the father has left me, and is now seeing someone new. I am single still, but I'm going strong. I'm usually happy. I have my moments though.
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