Chapter 4 - YOU CANNOT SEE HER
I woke in recovery with an empty feeling inside my body.
For one panicked second, I forgot where I was.
Then everything returned.
The contractions.
The ambulance.
The operating room.
The twins.
“My babies.”
A nurse appeared beside me.
“They’re alive.”
I started crying immediately.
“Both?”
“Both.”
She smiled gently.
“Your daughter is doing very well.”
“And my son?”
“He’s in the NICU.”
My heart tightened.
“Can I see him?”
“As soon as you’re stable.”
I closed my eyes.
The nurse squeezed my hand.
“There’s something else.”
I looked at her.
“Your husband is downstairs.”
My entire body went rigid.
“No.”
“He’s asking to see you.”
“No.”
“He says he’s the father.”
“I don’t care.”
The nurse nodded.
“You don’t have to see anyone you don’t want to see.”
I stared at her.
“Please don’t let him in.”
“We won’t.”
Twenty minutes later, Travis began calling.
I watched his name appear repeatedly on my phone.
TRAVIS.
TRAVIS.
TRAVIS.
I did not answer.
Then the messages started.
Claire, please.
I didn’t know it was serious.
Mom said you had hours.
Please tell me the babies are okay.
I’m sorry.
Please.
Please answer me.
I stared at the screen until the letters blurred.
Then another message arrived.
I love you.
That one made me angrier than all the others.
Love had been standing in our kitchen while I begged for help.
Love had looked at my collapsing body and told me not to move.
Love had driven away.
I blocked his number.
A hospital social worker named Angela came into my room that afternoon.
She closed the door.
“I need to ask you some difficult questions.”
I already knew what they were.
“Has your husband ever physically hurt you?”
“No.”
“Has he prevented you from accessing medical care before?”
I hesitated.
“Not like this.”
“Has he controlled your transportation?”
“Yes.”
“Money?”
I looked down.
“Sometimes.”
“Phone?”
“Sometimes.”
“Family contact?”
My throat tightened.
“He doesn’t like my parents interfering.”
Angela wrote something down.
“Claire, what happened today is serious.”
I nodded.
“I know.”
“No.”
Her voice softened.
“I mean legally serious.”
I looked at her.
She continued.
“The hospital made a mandatory report because of the circumstances surrounding your delayed access to emergency care.”
My stomach tightened.
“To who?”
“Adult protective services may not apply depending on the jurisdiction.”
“But law enforcement has already been contacted.”
I stared at her.
She leaned closer.
“Whatever happens next, you need to understand something.”
“You did not fail your children.”
May you like
“The people who heard you ask for medical help and walked away made that decision.”
For the first time since the ambulance arrived, I allowed myself to believe her.
