It took a long time before I could gather enough strength to grab the railing and pull myself up.
Worried that something might start leaking out of me on the way, cab wasn't in any of my options. I had no choice but to walk to the hospital.
The night soon covered the entire sky. The shift nurse at the ER took one look at the blood soaking my clothes and rushed to get me checked in.
The doctor flipped through my earlier records. He asked as he shook his head.
“Three weeks in and you already had an amniocentesis? The pregnancy wasn’t even stable yet! Your uterus is in distress, contracting from the trauma—and with a fall down the stairs on top of that… I’m sorry, but the baby probably won’t make it.”
After the exam, the doctor grew even more frustrated.
“You’ve been hemorrhaging this whole time and you just powered through the pain? Do you have a death wish?!”
I just let out a long breath—then, unexpectedly, I laughed.
“Doctor, just go ahead and terminate the pregnancy.”
From the moment I learned the truth, I had felt nothing but disgust toward the tiny, unformed thing inside me.
Now, it was gone.
***
Good.
This baby had been nothing but a bad dream—one I was finally waking up from.