And by then, I was nearing the end of my pregnancy, too worn down by the endless clashes with my mother-in-law, the fatigue of my swollen body and Peter’s shifting affections to argue.
Yesterday, I arrived at the hospital for delivery and felt a sense of dread trickle down my spine. My eyes fell upon the head nurse—and it was Millie, her gaze too eager and self-satisfied.
An unsettling foreboding weighed down on me.
As I feared, when Millie came to give me an infusion, she pretended as if she couldn’t find a vein. She jabbed the needle in and out of the back of my hand, with an almost deliberate cruelty, piercing deeper until a sharp pain shot up my arm as she struck a nerve. My hand began to swell, the veins bulging and the pain radiating through my fingers, leaving them numb and aching.
With the operation fast approaching, I couldn’t bear it any longer and complained to Peter. But instead of understanding, his face twisted with anger. He snatched the delivery bag and, without warning, smashed it down onto my swollen hand, making me gasp in pain.
“You’re the first to lodge a complaint, aren’t you?” he spat, his voice filled with venom.
“All because of some petty jealousy, you threw boiling water at Millie when she was just trying to help you! She hasn’t even uttered a word against you.”
He glared down at me, a cold fury in his eyes. “She made one small mistake with the needle and you’re acting so high and mighty? Just because you’re pregnant doesn’t mean you can act out however you please. You don’t get special treatment just because you’re my wife! Just give birth to the child on your own!”
The rage in his voice was unmistakable, his contempt clear. “Does it hurt? Good. Maybe now you’ll remember this.”
Under Peter’s orders, a male nurse came forward and strapped down my arms and legs. Millie leaned over, gagging me with a cloth so I couldn’t protest.
Panic surged through me and I mumbled desperately through the cloth, pleading with Peter. “I’m not afraid of pain,” I begged, my voice barely a whisper, “I’m afraid of dying with the baby! How can I possibly deliver a four-kilogram baby naturally? This is your own child!”
Peter only sneered, a smirk of disbelief crossing his face. “A giant baby? Dying with the baby? Do you think I’m that easily fooled?” he scoffed.