Searching For Her

Chapter Fourteen

Once I was fully healed, Chris had us "making love" once again. By next month, I was pregnant yet again. At first I was excited but I realized that it wouldn't replace the baby I'd lost because of him. Would he abuse them too? I couldn't let that happen. Not again.

For days on end I was paranoid and barley stayed close to him. I'd comply with whatever he wanted. I'd do my normal chores around the house; wash the dishes, sweep and dust, change my clothes, use the bathroom, make the beds. Over and over that was my routine for when he was gone.

When he was here, wherever he was I wasn't. If he was in the living room I'd be in the kitchen or upstairs. He couldn't be close to my baby. A good thing was that he seemed increasingly distracted. He would always be lost in his thoughts. I took advantage of every second of it.

I reached past month three once again. My anxiety was crushing but I tried to stay calm for the baby. I didn't want them to have the same fate as their sibling. I cried every day for them. I didn't even know their gender. That memory hurts worse than the actual pain I was in.

By month six I was getting rather large. My stomach swelled heavily and it was hard to do the chores he wanted me to do. My feet were swollen and my back constantly ached. I was content, though. My baby was going to make it.

The summer heat was starting to beat down on the house. Their birthday should be around September.

One night, while eating dinner, Chris started talking about baby names.

"If it's a girl, you can name them whatever but if it's a boy he's going to be called John."

I agreed. John was a nice name for a baby boy but I didn't understand the necessity of the name.

"Why that name, sir?"

Chris just stared at me, slowly chewing.

"It was my father's name."

Was? Had he passed away? We stared but there was some heat in his gaze like he wanted me to keep questioning him. 'Keep questioning me and you'll see what I do.' I smiled at him and just continued eating.

Once we finished up, we went upstairs for bed. Tonight he let me sleep in his room with him. He undressed me and stared at my swollen belly. He smiled but he looked sad too.

His hands spread along the bump and he caressed the baby. I was nervous about his touch but bared it. Finally, he continued to dress me and we both went to sleep.

I was in my third trimester by now. The leaves were starting to fall off the trees outside and I knew that it was becoming fall once again. I shivered. It's only been a year.

I caressed my stomach as I dusted around the fireplaces. I had convinced him to put up some knicknacks. He'd dug around in the basement and found his parents things. Small cats and dogs in the middle of playing together; a set. I brushed the duster over them gently.

Once finished I gathered up my supplies and trekked downstairs into the basement to put them up. I put them all back into the cardboard box and made my way up the stairs. When I reached the top I felt a weird sensation crawl across my stomach. I shrugged it off as gas or the baby moving but it kept happening.

Suddenly, a pain crawled through my back and wrapped around my abdomen. I cupped my stomach and stumbled at the pain. No, no, no, what's happening? Whoosh.

I looked down at my feet, shaking. Water. Oh God, I was in labor. I was in labor and all alone.

Thankfully, for the past few weeks, Chris had been urging me to read the pregnancy books so I knew what to expect. First I need to get somewhere safe and a good place to have the baby. The rooms to the house rushed through my head as I stumbled around in pain.

I made my mind up on the bathroom upstairs. I crawled my bloated body up the steps. I pushed my door open and scuffed my knees across the wooden floors. I scuttled into the bathroom and pulled myself off the ground. I yanked at the bottom cabinet for the towels but of course it was locked. Fuck!

I dragged my aching body to the bathtub and just climbed in fully clothed. The book says that warm water helps ease the pain but I can't have a bath.

For hours I rocked back and forth in the tub, my hands gripping onto the lip of the bath. My body bore down on itself and I realized I was starting to push. I quickly fumbled my underwear off. The baby was coming. Now!

I screamed at the pain and pushed harder. My teeth grinded together and I kept seeing spots in my vision. At times I'd forgotten to take a break to breathe and found myself almost passing out. I leaned my chest over the tub and cried.

The pain just kept coming and growing. The contractions were constant and it felt like I was going to die. Get out already! Get out! Get out! I clenched my teeth together and pushed as hard as I could. My baby was pushed out of my body with one blow.

I flung my arms around them and pulled them to my chest. Relief crossed my body. I was slick in sweat and other disgusting fluids. Oh God. Were they breathing? What do I do know?

I patted their back constantly. Breathe! Please, breathe! I heard something spiddle out of their mouth before those wonderful cries filled the room. I sobbed.

"Oh, my baby...."

I stayed in the tub until the afterbirth was finished and I'd gotten my strength back. I pulled myself out and made my way to the sink. I gently rubbed a warm rag over their body to clean them up a bit.

A baby girl. She was so beautiful. Once all clean I got into bed and wrapped him up in the blanket. She wiggled and clenched her tiny fists around the fabric. I brushed my knuckle over her chubby, rosy cheeks and kissed her little peach fuzz covered head tenderly. I wanted to just sit there and hold her but I was disgusting.

I wrapped her up nice and snug before getting up. I changed my dress, put some underwear on, and got back into the blanket with her. I wrapped my arms around her and played with her little fingers. She cooed happily. I pulled my breast out and pulled her up to it. Greedily, she latched and started slurping up my milk. My own baby. My little girl.