“I GAVE MY SIX-MONTH-OLD BABY SLEEPING PILLS SO I COULD GO OUT AND HAVE FUN… BUT NOW HE’S NOT MOVING.” part 2
We got to the hospital...
My slippers slapped against the cold tiles as we ran inside, my baby pressed tightly to my chest like I could warm life back into him with my body alone.
“Help me! Please help me!” I screamed.
Nurses rushed toward us. One of them quickly took my baby from my arms.
“What happened?” she asked sharply.
“I… I don’t know… he just stopped breathing…” My voice broke into pieces.
They laid him on a metal bed.
Machines beeped.
Hands moved fast.
Too fast.
A doctor pressed two fingers to my baby’s tiny neck.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three.
My knees buckled.
“There’s a pulse,” he said suddenly.
My heart jumped violently.
“He has a pulse!” I cried. “You see? He’s alive!”
“But it’s very weak,” the doctor added, not looking at me. “Extremely weak.”
They rushed him into the emergency room and pushed the door shut in my face.
I stood there shaking.
My body felt empty.
My head was loud.
My chest burned like fire.
Clara held my shoulders.
“You need to calm down,” she whispered, but her own voice was trembling.
Minutes passed.
Then more minutes.
Each second felt like punishment.
I remembered the cough syrup.
I remembered the way his mouth closed slowly.
The way he slept too quietly.
“My God… what have I done…” I whispered.
A nurse came out.
“Who is the mother?”
“I am,” I said quickly, stepping forward.
She looked at me from head to toe.
My makeup.
My clothes.
My shaking hands.
“What did the baby take?” she asked.
“I… I don’t know… maybe… maybe medicine…” I stammered.
“What kind of medicine?”
My mouth went dry.
“I… adult cough syrup,” I whispered.
Her face changed.
“Adult?” she repeated slowly. “Do you know how dangerous that is for a baby?”
Tears poured down my face.
“I didn’t know… I just wanted him to sleep… just for a while…”
She sighed and walked away.
I slid down the wall and sat on the cold floor.
My phone buzzed.
It was my mother.
“Lami, where is the money you promised? Your sister’s school sent her back home today.”
I stared at the phone.
Then I laughed.
A dry, broken laugh.
“Money?” I whispered. “My baby might be dying…”
I didn’t answer the call.
Another doctor came out, older this time.
“The baby is stable for now,” he said. “But we need to keep him under observation.”
“For now?” I asked. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” he said carefully, “we don’t yet know if there will be complications.”
My heart sank.
“What kind of complications?”
He looked at me long and hard.
“Brain damage. Seizures. Delayed development. We won’t know until later.”
My world collapsed.
I grabbed his coat.
“Please… please save him… I’ll do anything…”
He gently removed my hands.
“We’ll do our best.”
As he walked away, another nurse pulled Clara aside and whispered something to her.
Clara’s face turned pale.
“What?” I asked her.
She hesitated.
“Lami… they’re asking questions,” she said quietly. “They said cases like this… sometimes… social welfare gets involved.”
My heart skipped.
“What does that mean?”
“It means… they might report this.”
Report.
The word echoed in my head.
Police.
Prison.
Shame.
My mother.
My siblings.
Everything I did to survive… was about to destroy me.
Hours later, I was allowed to see my baby.
He lay there with tiny tubes attached to his body.
His chest rose slowly.
Too slowly.
I touched his fingers.
They moved.
I burst into tears.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry… please don’t leave me…”
He didn’t cry.He didn’t smile.
He just lay there.
And for the first time since I gave birth, fear swallowed pleasure completely.
Because this time…
I might not be able to run.
To be continued…
Our likes are discouraging guys,1k likes for the next episode
Follow Benjamin Peace
We got to the hospital...
My slippers slapped against the cold tiles as we ran inside, my baby pressed tightly to my chest like I could warm life back into him with my body alone.
“Help me! Please help me!” I screamed.
Nurses rushed toward us. One of them quickly took my baby from my arms.
“What happened?” she asked sharply.
“I… I don’t know… he just stopped breathing…” My voice broke into pieces.
They laid him on a metal bed.
Machines beeped.
Hands moved fast.
Too fast.
A doctor pressed two fingers to my baby’s tiny neck.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three.
My knees buckled.
“There’s a pulse,” he said suddenly.
My heart jumped violently.
“He has a pulse!” I cried. “You see? He’s alive!”
“But it’s very weak,” the doctor added, not looking at me. “Extremely weak.”
They rushed him into the emergency room and pushed the door shut in my face.
I stood there shaking.
My body felt empty.
My head was loud.
My chest burned like fire.
Clara held my shoulders.
“You need to calm down,” she whispered, but her own voice was trembling.
Minutes passed.
Then more minutes.
Each second felt like punishment.
I remembered the cough syrup.
I remembered the way his mouth closed slowly.
The way he slept too quietly.
“My God… what have I done…” I whispered.
A nurse came out.
“Who is the mother?”
“I am,” I said quickly, stepping forward.
She looked at me from head to toe.
My makeup.
My clothes.
My shaking hands.
“What did the baby take?” she asked.
“I… I don’t know… maybe… maybe medicine…” I stammered.
“What kind of medicine?”
My mouth went dry.
“I… adult cough syrup,” I whispered.
Her face changed.
“Adult?” she repeated slowly. “Do you know how dangerous that is for a baby?”
Tears poured down my face.
“I didn’t know… I just wanted him to sleep… just for a while…”
She sighed and walked away.
I slid down the wall and sat on the cold floor.
My phone buzzed.
It was my mother.
“Lami, where is the money you promised? Your sister’s school sent her back home today.”
I stared at the phone.
Then I laughed.
A dry, broken laugh.
“Money?” I whispered. “My baby might be dying…”
I didn’t answer the call.
Another doctor came out, older this time.
“The baby is stable for now,” he said. “But we need to keep him under observation.”
“For now?” I asked. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” he said carefully, “we don’t yet know if there will be complications.”
My heart sank.
“What kind of complications?”
He looked at me long and hard.
“Brain damage. Seizures. Delayed development. We won’t know until later.”
My world collapsed.
I grabbed his coat.
“Please… please save him… I’ll do anything…”
He gently removed my hands.
“We’ll do our best.”
As he walked away, another nurse pulled Clara aside and whispered something to her.
Clara’s face turned pale.
“What?” I asked her.
She hesitated.
“Lami… they’re asking questions,” she said quietly. “They said cases like this… sometimes… social welfare gets involved.”
My heart skipped.
“What does that mean?”
“It means… they might report this.”
Report.
The word echoed in my head.
Police.
Prison.
Shame.
My mother.
My siblings.
Everything I did to survive… was about to destroy me.
Hours later, I was allowed to see my baby.
He lay there with tiny tubes attached to his body.
His chest rose slowly.
Too slowly.
I touched his fingers.
They moved.
I burst into tears.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry… please don’t leave me…”
He didn’t cry.He didn’t smile.
He just lay there.
And for the first time since I gave birth, fear swallowed pleasure completely.
Because this time…
I might not be able to run.
To be continued…
Our likes are discouraging guys,1k likes for the next episode
Follow Benjamin Peace
