CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

"Dear? Wake up, dear." I woke up and looked over at Catherine. She was holding her belly with both hands. "I think that she might be coming now. Would you call the doctor for me?"

I rushed over to the phone and dialed the doctor's number. He asked me how often she felt pain. Catherine said that the pains seemed to come every fifteen minutes or so. The doctor suggested that we get to the hospital as soon as possible.

I had one of the hotel workers call a taxi for us and then gathered together all of Catherine's things to take to the hospital. I helped her get to the elevator and then out the hotel entrance. She was in a very good mood.

"This is so exciting!" she said.

"You have more courage than I do!"

After we exited the taxi, I accompanied Catherine to the front desk of the hospital and arranged for a room to be prepared for her. They took both of us up right away. The nurse gave Catherine some clothes to change into and asked me to wait outside in the hall. A few minutes later, I was told that I could go in and see her. She was having greater pains now. She still seemed happy and excited.

"Why don't you go and get something for yourself for a light breakfast?" Catherine suggested, "This could take quite a long time. The nurse says that the first time is always long."

I did not want to leave her. Even though she was very positive about the pain she felt, it hurt me to see her so uncomfortable. After a while, she insisted that I go, for she could not concentrate with me in the room.

"Alright," I said, "Do you know where I can get a bite to eat, nurse?"

"In the center of town there's a nice little café. It's not far from here," she answered.

At the café, I ordered some wine and bread. After I finished eating, I went back out and walked the streets for a while. I saw a dog trying to get food from inside a garbage can. I walked over to help him, but found nothing inside for him to eat. He left me, disappointed, and I then returned to the hospital.

When I got to Catherine's room, she was gone. I asked the receptionist where she had been taken and she led me to the room used for giving birth. Through the window in the door, I could see Catherine lying on a table with several people around her. The nurse then gave me clothing to change into so that I could go in and provide support for Catherine during the delivery.

When I entered, I saw the doctor put a mask on Catherine's face. She took a deep breath and then pushed the mask away.

"Are you her husband?" the doctor asked me.

"Yes. How is she?"

"She's doing just fine. We're giving her a little gas to ease the pain a little," he said.

That was at three o'clock in the morning. Nine hours later, Catherine was still struggling to have the child. Still, she remained very excited and positive.

After a while, the doctor asked me to go back out into the hallway. He needed to look at Catherine more closely for a few minutes. He said that he would call me back in when he was finished.

I went out and had a look at that day's newspaper. It was beginning to darken outside. A long time passed and I started to get anxious. Why had the doctor not asked me to return? Was something wrong? I decided to wait ten more minutes and then I would go back.

I felt sorry for Catherine. It seemed a horrible thing to have to suffer through just because you loved someone. She had had an easy nine months. Rarely did she ever get ill. Now, however, I could see that God was saving the worst for the big moment. He was throwing everything at her all at once now. Could this kill her? Shut up! Don't think such things. She'll be fine! But what if she is not fine? Stop! Really, everything will work out fine. Soon, Catherine and I will be joking about this day.

Then the doctor came toward me down the hallway.

"So?" I asked.

"For some reason, the baby's not coming out. We're going to need to perform surgery. If you don't want that, we could always use another method, however, I would not recommend it. It can hurt both the baby and the mother."

Jesus! She could die! "Then, please, perform the surgery," I said.

"I'll begin preparations immediately. We should be ready to begin in about an hour."

I went back into the room to see Catherine. She looked terribly white and tired. The gas no longer had any effect on her.

"Did you give them permission to perform the surgery?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Wonderful. That'll make things go much more quickly. I'm almost done, dear. I'll be out soon." She then squeezed her eyes and let out a small cry. "The pain is too great! Oh! I wish that my life would end, just so I wouldn't have to feel this any longer!"

I turned the gas on high for a second and she suddenly calmed down. Then, after a few seconds, she reawakened.

"That was nice. That felt good. Can you do that again, dear?"

"No. If I do it too much, you would die," I said.

"Am I going to be alright? Am I going to make it?"

"Of course you are. Very soon, this will all be over and done with."

The doctor then came into the room with several other doctors and, after having her placed on a stretcher, pushed Catherine out and down the hall to the surgery room.

The nurse told me that I could watch the surgery from the room next door. There was a window separating the rooms and it looked down over the surgery table. I refused and remained in the hallway, walking back and forth from one end to the other.

Soon a doctor came out of the surgery room. He held something in his hands. It looked dead. I followed him and then looked through the window of the room he entered to see what he was doing. He held a tiny child upside down by its feet.

"Is everything fine?" I asked.

"Just perfect!" he shouted with a smile. "Come! Have a look at your new baby boy!"

"No thanks," I said. I was angry with the baby for having put Catherine's life in danger. I returned to the room next to the surgery area and looked through the window at Catherine. She was still lying on the table. She seemed lifeless to me. There was no color in her face and she did not move a single muscle. The nurses came and pushed her down the hall to a room where she could rest more comfortably.

I went in to see her. She was just waking up at that moment. She looked at me and smiled. "Was it a boy or a girl?"

The nurse told her to get some rest, but I went ahead and answered her, "It's a boy and he's really big. His face looks like he's eight years old."

"How is he?"

"He's doing great."

I saw the nurse look at me just then. I wondered if I had said something inappropriate.

"Go back to sleep now. You can see him later, when you're feeling better."

I then left the room and asked the nurse if I could have a word with her.

"Is anything wrong?" I asked.

"You mean ... You don't ... You weren't told?" she asked in surprise. "The baby was born dead. The cord somehow got wrapped around his neck and he could not breathe."

I went and took a seat in the hallway. So the little guy was dead. How long had he been dead? I wondered. For a moment I wished that the same thing had happened to me when I was still inside of my mother. Then I would not have to be here to see everyone dying all around me. I would not have to see Catherine die. She would surely die. Just like Aymo and now Rinaldi, with his sex disease.

I then remembered a time when, during the war, I put a piece of wood onto a fire we had going outside. There were hundreds of little ants on the wood. I saw them all start running, first toward the center of the fire, then back toward the cooler end of the stick. Eventually, the stick broke and they all fell into the flames and burned to death. I could have saved them at any moment, but I did nothing.

A little while later, I began to see nurses running in and out of Catherine's room. I stopped one of them and asked what was going on.

"Your wife is bleeding."

"Is it serious?" I asked.

"I'm afraid so. Her life is in danger."

Catherine was going to die. There was no question about it now. I would lose her. After a while, the doctors let me go in to see her. She seemed extremely weak.

"Hello, dear," she said, smiling as she saw me.

"Hello. How do you feel?" I asked.

"I'm dying. I know I'm dying and I'm angry about it!"

Tears came to my eyes and I gently touched her hand. It seemed painful to her to be touched. I quickly removed my hand.

"I should have written a letter to you before, in case I died giving birth. I'd thought about it, but then I got lazy ... or I just didn't believe it would happen. I don't know. Please, don't cry."

"You won't die, darling," I said, "Stop talking that way."

The doctor then interrupted us and suggested that I go back out into the hallway, for Catherine needed to rest as much as possible. I kissed her gently on the forehead and then walked toward the door.

"Please, promise me you won't be with other women!" Catherine suddenly said. "Oh ... what am I saying? I don't want that. I want you to be happy. I want you to be with other women."

"I won't be with anyone else, darling," I said.

I then left the room and returned to my seat in the hallway. It was not long before the doctor called me back into her room. She was at death's door. I sat with her until the end. It did not take very long. She was sleeping when she went.

The doctor offered to accompany me to my hotel. He felt bad for me and promised me that he had done everything he could to save her. I told him that I knew he had. The nurses would not allow me to re-enter Catherine's room. I demanded to be allowed to sit with Catherine for a few moments alone. I pushed past them and shut the door behind me. However, it was useless. I could not tell her goodbye. She was nothing more than an empty body. She was like a stone. A little later, I exited the room and then the hospital and slowly made my way back to the hotel in the pouring rain.

(end of section)