...BELEN CLINT...
The physician ultimately disclosed the gender of my baby to me, and I harbor mixed feelings since it's a girl. The thought of her falling in love with someone like I did, and suffering the same heartache, instills panic in me; all I wish for is to shield her from every conceivable danger until she is capable of fending for herself.
I considered naming my daughter after Mrs. Marta, who provided so much assistance, but she declined, citing the name as old-fashioned and no longer in vogue. She expressed a desire to choose my daughter's name and I consented. She'd select one beginning with the letter M, like hers.
(.....)
I'm now in the final month of my pregnancy, and it's not long before Molly joins our lives – that's the name Mrs. Marta picked, and I find it lovely.
My belly has expanded enormously, as has everything else, but it doesn't bother me; I believe I've never felt happier than I do at this moment.
Finally, my doctor's nurse reassured me that someone would be sent to look after Mrs. Marta when my time to deliver arrives, as this had been weighing heavily on my mind. Knowing this arrangement put me at ease.
(.....)
With a week left until my expected delivery date, I went to my last check-up not feeling quite right. I experienced significant pains, which I had grown accustomed to, but this time they were more intense and of longer duration.
The doctor observed my frequent contractions and decided that I needed to be admitted to be closely monitored. He believed my daughter might choose to be born that very day; thus, the nurse immediately arranged for someone to accompany Mrs. Marta.
I was ushered into a room where I was assisted in changing into a hospital gown, leaving me feeling exposed, which is why I covered myself with the sheets.
The doctor visited me frequently and conducted a manual examination that made me extremely anxious; I didn’t want him or anyone else touching me.
"You're progressing very well, the baby will be born today," he announced, which calmed me somewhat even as it heightened my fears.
Unfortunately, I only dilated five centimeters, and there it halted. The doctor then explained the course of action.
"We have to perform a c-section, Belen. I can't allow the two of you to suffer any longer since there's no further progress from here," he stated, which frightened me but I understood the necessity.
"Do what you must," I asserted with resolve.
Two nurses came to assist me in removing my undergarments – I had kept them on – and then a man arrived to discuss the anesthesia that would be used, describing what sensations to expect.
Subsequently, I was helped onto a stretcher and taken to the operating room. Each light in the corridor made me close my eyes, feeling dizzy as they flashed by quickly.
(.....)
In the operating room, I watched everyone focused on their tasks, unable to see their faces as masks and uniforms concealed their hair, bodies, and hands.
I was made to sit and the man who'd spoken to me earlier administered an injection in my spinal area which caused considerable pain, followed by a tingling sensation in my legs. After he finished, I was laid down and found that I could no longer move my legs freely; they felt heavy.
A screen was then placed to prevent me from seeing the operation. After experiencing some tugging and discomfort, I heard Molly's cries. I couldn't touch her, there was simply no way, as my arms were restrained, but I still managed to kiss her before she was taken away.
After they finished with me, I was returned to a room where a small crib awaited, and a nurse held Molly in her arms.
I got a better look at her; her skin was very pale, and the nurse showed me a bit of her red hair, just like mine. She bore a striking resemblance to the photo they'd shown me at the orphanage of my arrival, almost an exact match.
The nurse assisted me in laying her on my chest as I had no one there to help, and she stayed with me for a few hours.
They fitted me with a girdle to compress my abdomen and support the surgical area, and they carefully helped me to my feet. I had never experienced such pain before, and it was my first time in this situation.
The nurse taking care of Mrs. Marta called me and put me through to her. We both cried over the phone, and the person with me took a photo of Molly to send to her, allowing her to see her.
The doctor and the nurse who had been present at every check-up brought gifts for Molly which I greatly appreciated. Coming to this city allowed me to meet kind people who supported me when I felt most alone and abandoned; without them, I’m not sure what I would have done.
I remembered the days before leaving hell and knew that if I had stayed there, I would have died, but here, I had found hope.
.
.
.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: girls, we're almost introduced to our protagonists, there's still a bit to go. I had to narrate about the pregnancy first, and there are still a few things to happen.
How do you imagine Xavier and Belen will meet?
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