Pieces of the Present - [Danona] Book Two ✓

14. synonym for scared

Was there even a specific word for what she was feeling? When the news hits so deeply that every ounce of fear washes away, turning into numbness. Just a sudden calm while the world kept spinning. Denial? Shock? Disassociation? 

Abnormality. That's a big word. A very big and very scary word that in absolutely no form can be positive. But the moment she heard the word, everything else shut off. 

"It's called Amniotic Band Syndrome. You have several amniotic bands near the baby. Think of them as thin, fibrous membranes, sort of like strands of hair. In cases of ABS, the bands can attach to the baby's limbs and restrict blood flow. The good news is, as far as we can tell, they haven't attached to the baby yet."

She wasn't listening. Instead, her eyes had zeroed in onto the poster that hung on the wall. Another happy mother cradling another happy baby. The doctors kept on talking, her parents kept on growing more concerned, but the world around Katie was gone. Blissful, almost. Maybe her brain was just trying to protect her from the trauma. She didn't care, and she wouldn't until everything actually hit her. But for now, as she wandered around in the lost feeling of shock, all she cared about was the sound of her heart beating in her ears.

"We're gonna send you over to Piedmont for further testing. They have obstetricians and neonatologists there who specialize in conditions like this. They'll evaluate your condition, make a plan on what the best treatment option is, and if the threat is large enough, they'll likely see you through the rest of your pregnancy as well as I will... Katie? Can you hear me?"

No. 

And she didn't want to either. 

She turned to her father with a hauntingly calm expression. "I'm sorry, what's happening?" she asked as if it were nothing. David and Winona exchanged worried glances before looking back at the doctor. 

If she could float like this forever, she would. This had been the feeling she had been searching for during her entire pregnancy. The feeling of nothing. No stress, no panic, nothing but the air in her lungs. 

Deep in the back of her mind, the part that couldn't be silenced by the shock, it told her that this wouldn't last forever. That it shouldn't last forever. She needed to feel the hurt and heartache that was coming to her. 

Just a few more minutes, please. 

Just a few more minutes of feeling absolutely nothing before she would need to feel everything. 

Through the hazy fog of her mind, she felt herself being guided up from the table. Both of her parents had an arm around her, helping her only half functioning mind to get her to the car. She could barely see due to the tunnel vision that had set in. Sensation. That was the only reliable sense that she had left. 

She sensed when she felt her father zipping up her jacket and helping her buckle in the seat belt. She could feel the car moving so smoothly over the roads. Wait. When had she left the doctor's office? Why had she left? Why couldn't she feel her heart beating?