Content warning: As you can see from the title, this chapter contains deals with very heavy subject matter. Please do not read if you know you will be affected by tragedy.
I didn’t know how it all happened.
My mind was numb. I did not want to think. I did not even want to be sober.
You know, it was much, much easier if it turns out everything was a bad dream. And that somewhere along, I would sudden bolt awake, heavy perspiration and all with Fiona either sleeping soundly, or trying to calm me down, if I had woken her up.
But it was real. Everything in front was real. The emergency room, the bored looking receptionist, the… operating theatre where my wife was still inside undergoing an emergency C-section.
How did it all happen?
Fiona never mentioned anything about discomforts. Or abnormal pains. How is it that suddenly she was now fighting for her (and the baby’s) life? 2 months too early. The doctor had stepped out once, telling me to be prepared. Trust me, it was the most goddamn awful words to hear. I would never wish it upon anyone.
And it was worst that there was nothing I could do. Like staying by her side, encouraging her and all. You know, I was almost close to butting open the doors and hold my wife in my arms, but I knew it was the worst thing one could do. Interrupting a doctor’s work. But I only wanted her to be okay. I don’t want to lose her. Was it too much to ask?
I still vividly recall that very morning, when she saw me off to work with a kiss, as usual…
That was the last time I saw her.
She never met her daughter. Neither did I. The baby was born too premature and did not make it through the night. But still I gave her a name. Aurelia. It was the name we had decided on.
She was my life, my everything. And when she left, a great part of me went with her.