Page 9 of They Found Us
“Come back inside. Let’s sit you down.” Vanna tries to usher me back inside the café, but Mark is screaming his head off, wanting to get going.
“No, I’m okay, thank you,” I lie, standing up and breathing through the pain. “I just need to get home.” I’m sure the pain will ease off just like it has the past few days. It’s probably just Braxton Hicks. I remember getting them before I had Mark, although I don’t remember them being this painful.
“All right, if you’re sure. But let me walk you home.”
“Okay, thank you.”
By the time we get back to our house, the pains are getting worse and more frequent. I’m starting to panic, as I think I might be in labour.
“Shout for your husband, and then l’ll leave you, but I really think you should go to the hospital.” Vanna helps me get Mark inside the house.
“My husband isn’t here.” I cry as the next contraction hits.
“Where is he? Can you ring him?”
“No, I don’t know his number.” I can hardly speak, my breathing is so erratic.
“Is there anyone I can call for you? Someone to look after Mark?” Vanna takes her phone out of her bag.
It’s the first time in years I’ve seen a mobile phone up close. Leo got rid of ours when we left Italy, and we’ve never needed one since. My body starts to shake. I feel dizzy and can’t see clearly. Sweat drips from my eyebrows into my eyes.
“No, I have no one.”
Vanna looks at me with sympathy and understanding. “Okay, don’t worry. I will call my husband now. He will take us to the hospital. Tell me where your things are, and I’ll take care of you and Mark.”
“Thank you,” I sob, grateful that she is here.
“Everything is going to be fine. Just sit here and rest.”
Vanna quickly packs a bag for Mark with toys, a change of clothes, and refreshments. She then gets my hospital bag, which I’ve already packed. As soon as she is done, there’s a knock at the door.
“My husband is here. Let me get Mark into the car, and then l’ll come back and help you.”
I do as Vanna says, having no other option than to let a woman I have just met, and a stranger, take my little boy out of my house. Sure enough, a moment later, Vanna returns and helps me lock up the house and get into the car.
“In cosa ti sei cacciata ora?”What have you gotten yourself into now?Vanna’s husband says to her quietly as he pulls the car into the road.
“Katie speaks Italian, my love.”
“Ah, my apologies, Katie. I see you’re having a baby. Congratulations.”
As I’m unable to reply or even lift my head to look at him, Vanna speaks for me. “Don’t talk. Just drive.”
The hospital is only five minutes away. Vanna helps me out of the car and into the maternity unit. Her husband takes Mark to the hospital café to get an ice cream. Thankfully Mark has taken to him. I try not to let myself think about the danger he could be in. I wish Leo were here. Stepping into the modern reception area, I’m grateful to see a friendly looking nurse.
“Oh, love, you look like you need some help. Here, take a seat, and I’ll take you through to the ward.”
Vanna lets go of my arm once I’m sat in the wheelchair. She follows behind us with my bag. The smell of clinical products mixed with hospital food, the shouts of pain from women in labour, blended with beeping from medical equipment—the sensory overload is astonishing as I’m taken into a private room. I’m scared. I shouldn’t be doing this alone. The nurse helps me stand from the wheelchair. As I go to sit on the bed, an almighty pain is followed by a gush between my legs.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I apologise, knowing I have just ruined the crisp white sheets.
“Don’t worry, dear, that will just be your waters breaking,” the nurse reassures me. Until she looks down at the floor and then back to me with an expression thatno longer puts me at ease.
I then smell the distinctive pungent, metallic stench. As I look down, my legs turn to jelly at the sight. Crimson blood soaks my legs and feet. A pool of blood gradually grows larger as it continues to run down my legs.
“Let’s get you onto the bed.”
The room spins in multiple colours as I lie facing the ceiling. More people enter the room. I know they are speaking to me, as I hear my name, but I’m unable to respond. A tingling sensation, almost like pins and needles, runs down my limbs to my fingers and toes. The colours in my vision become darker, blending into one. The room disappears. Darkness takes over.
