Friday Fictioneers-In the High Heat of Summer and Blood

old-shoes-cobwebs.jpg

In the heat of summer, we began cleaning my deceased great grandmother’s home. Heavy with pregnancy, I pulled the old shoes from the bottom of the armoire. I felt overwhelmed by the chore and my grief of losing her before Adam was born. Sweat slid down my swollen belly as I filled the first box of many. Old shoes were easy to throw out, but what about the the other antiques? The baby kicked while I worked. Then the nosebleed began. Blood poured down my shirt and the old shoes. Distressed, I pinched my nostrils, and ran outside for relief.

100 words exactly!

Genre: autobiographical, memory, hell I don’t know.

Thank you Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers. I’m happy as heck to be inspired to write again. I’m hoping that this priming of the pump will cause the words and stories to flow for me again. Dear Readers, please go to Rochelle’s site to read all of the entries.

Have a terrific day!

Advertisements

Pain is Fear Leaving The Body

The therapist raised the table up so that she could slowly jerk my stiff ankle from side to side. It didn’t hurt, but the sensation was definitely uncomfortable. When she was done, she pushed her fingers into the outer ankle bone and lifted it up for a few seconds at a time. The pain I felt was on the inside ankle bone. It was excruciating and I cried out. Amelia asked if she should stop, but I told her no, that pain was needed to heal. She then palpated the inner ankle bone and I felt the tendons crack. When she was done, she shook my ankle from side to side again. It felt good, even though I knew it would ache a few hours later. Physical therapy is a special kind of torture that needs to be administered in order to heal. Now that the ache of it has finally settled in, I must remember that this pain is merely fear leaving my body……

Meggie called during her lunch break and asked me how I was doing. I explained that my ankle ached and I was bitchy because of the pain. Her comment was she didn’t feel sorry for me since all she’d been doing is throwing up for the last 3.5 months. Yes, my lovely daughter is going to make me a grandma in June. That gorgeous blonde haired, blue eyed wild fire that I gave birth to 24 years ago is going to grace us with another living soul to walk this planet. So how can I complain about learning to walk again, while she’s growing a new life within her body?

We hung up while she let her dogs out and hoped they’d come in quickly so she’d get a chance to take a good nap with all three of her Huskies. I latched the leash on Eddie the Rat and took him outside, and he lifted his legs on the bushes just outside my apartment entrance. Because of the pain, I couldn’t walk very far, so we headed back inside. My text alert went off and I entered my password into my phone. Meggie informed me that she’d thrown up before she could get the dogs outside. I replied that I was so sorry and wished there was something I could do to help her. Unfortunately I couldn’t but she knows if I could, I would. After all, I am her mother. And what mother doesn’t want to take care of their child, no matter what age they are.

Meg’s final text to me told me that she was going to take a nap. I told her I was going to wrap Christmas presents. I hate shopping, and I’m not very fond of Christmas, but I figured while I still had my gym shoes and brace on, I better get as much wrapping done as I could. I knew the pain from my therapy session would settle in before too long, and the tears would flow.

My friend Lori has been diagnosed with breast cancer. Her battle is much more in depth than mine, because her’s is for her life. While mine is for the chance to be able to not walk with a limp. I watch Lori’s battle closely and I cheer her on every single damn day. I know she has watched my battle closely and though she’s got her own fight, she cheers me on. I’ll fight for my chance to walk without pain. But I’ll fight for Lori too. And I’ll also fight for Megan’s struggle too. We are in our own kind of pain. We can’t discount the hurt. We can only fight through it.

Friday Fictioneers-The Earth is Like a Child

gnarled-tree

“It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke

Evan places his hand on Marnie’s pregnant belly. She releases a sigh and leans her head against the gnarled tree. The glow of springtime sun warms both their bones, and hearts. The baby kicks and rolls under Evan’s exploring hand. Marnie giggles with delight.

Their road to happiness was fraught with uncertainty; Miscarriages, hormone injections and IVF. Once they gave all that up, they somehow got their everyday miracle.

“Sweetheart, are you afraid he won’t make it into this world?”

“Honey, I do believe this time we are blessed.”

In that instant, Marnie feels the tightening of her first contraction.

100 words (Genre: romance)

Thank you Rochelle for bringing us Friday Fictioneers. It’s her 50th FF post, so give that woman some kudos, please. The photo is brought to you by none other than Scott from  KindredSpirit23’s blog. When I first saw it, I wondered what the hell I was going to write, but a story came to me after all.

Please know I take criticism very well. Do your best or worst, as the case may be.

By the way, my first published and paid download (On a Hot Summer Night) through Etherbooks.com is on the bestsellers list. Thanks to all of you that purchased and read it. XOXOXOXXOXOXOXOXO

My Destiny was to be Their Mother

baby_hand_by_adela4

“No woman can call herself free who does not control her own body.” Margaret Sanger

Dr. P. placed the Doppler on my lower abdomen. She moved it slowly. Deliberately. She was looking for the sound I would grow to love more throughout the coming months. Within moments I heard it. Like the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings. It was my Meggie’s heartbeat. Fast, strong, and determined. I didn’t know it at the time, but those words would be used to describe her many times as she was growing up.

The doctor let the Doppler rest on my belly. It was still flat. It wouldn’t be for much longer though. I listened to my little nudger. The whump, whump, whump was soothing, but I was terrified too. My mind wandered. To four years earlier…

I was 17 years old and a senior in high school. I had a steady boyfriend. I was scared. Anxious. Pregnant. I was holding in my hand a positive pregnancy test. I hid in my bathroom and waited till the middle of the night to take it. I held the test tube up to the light. I sobbed silently. Wondering what the fuck I was going to do.

The sad thing is, three months prior, I had called Planned Parenthood. I’d made my appointment to get my first pelvic exam and procure a scrip for the “Pill”. I didn’t go. I never rescheduled. And then after a night of unprotected sex, I got pregnant.

I called Planned Parenthood again. This time to find out more about an abortion. They were so caring, gave me guidance and information. The day of the appointment, my boyfriend took me. He was great. I’m glad he was with me. I couldn’t tell my mother. So I didn’t. I was so afraid she would be disappointed in me.

At the clinic I was given a blood test. It was positive. I knew it would be. I spoke to a counselor. She gave me three options. Adoption, abortion, or keep the baby. She did not pressure me to terminate my pregnancy. I was given a choice-I decided that I would have an abortion. They gave me expert medical care, birth control, and follow up counseling if necessary.

I never regretted what I did and it wasn’t a decision I made lightly. I’m glad that my boyfriend was there to support me. I’m happy I had a choice. A safe one.

As time went by, my relationship faltered and life moved on. A child wasn’t to be my destiny for another four years.

I came back to myself as Dr. P finished the exam. I was so excited to be pregnant. To hear my baby girl’s heartbeat. I was scared, but I wasn’t alone. I was little more grown up. Better prepared. I knew it was my destiny to be a mother.

I’m still pro-choice. Aborting my baby was one of the toughest decisions I’ve ever made. If I could go back in time, I’d make the same decision.

My heart aches for my first one. I often wonder what their heartbeat would have sounded like. What they would have become had they got the chance to grow up. I keep my mind on my Meggie and Adam Boy though. I know that they were my ultimate destiny. I was meant to be their mother, and that’s just fine with me.