A Fools Labor

My eyes widen as I feel a piercing pain radiate through my body. My eyes water, 'Please, please, no, not again.'

"Angelica!" I yell, my voice going hoarse with pain near the end. "Angelica, please," I beg, calling for my maid.

I hear slight rustling before I let out a scream, my eyes watering even more; then I start to feel it as my bed sheets begin to dampen. 

"My lady, what's the matter," Angelica says, rushing in; I let out another grunt of pain as I try to move the blankets.

"My baby... AGH! something is wrong." I cry out. Huffing hard as I try not to lose consciousness, Angelica screaming and shouting at the other maids in a rush, I steal a peek down at my white nightgown; I find my once pristine white pregnancy gown covered in red, what is no doubt blood.

Then, finally, my first tear fell like a waterfall; the other fell right after; maybe it was the repeated no's and shouts for god to help me that finally had Angelica take a look at the sight I saw, a pained expression pinched her face as she murmured an 'oh god' and called for the doctor.

Everything gave to silence; my screams, the maid's shouts, even the doctor's instructions all shunned from my ear like the silence the child I birthed was born to.

The five-month-old child had yet to take a breath of air, much less cry.

This was the longest along any of my children got.

My first one hardly had a heartbeat as it was taken away from me when I had a uncomfortable long stool, my second just like this one happened while I was asleep waken only by the damp feeling of cloth around me, and a empty stomach. I attributed all of the miscarriages to my own body. A body that could not keep a child; never until now had I realized I was not to fault; in my first pregnancy, my husband had accidentally thrown a bottle my way, causing me to fall harder than I thought. On the second, he came home drunk from one of his many parties out with the noblemen and had forgotten that the doctor had advised us to stay away from any provocative activities, not that I ever wanted to. Just yesterday, my husband, who I will now address as Reynard, became more blatant with his abuse and blatant discard of my well-being. Reynard invited a few of his friends over, and being the lady of the house, I saw them to their waiting room. As he entered, Reynard made a snide joke that I would cheat on him with his friend.

As if I would go from one trash to another.

Reynard for the first time invited me to talk with his friends, still illusioned by his ways I was more than happy to divulge myself in their conversation. He pour me a glass of wine, knowing I shouldn't drink it I abstained but with the withering gaze of utter uselessness he gave me I took a sip maybe three. Not feeling good, I hoped to escape soon, realizing what a mistake I had made in accepting my invitation, until his friend congratulated me on the pregnancy, making a jest that it took me long enough.

My other miscarriages had been quiet, with them not showing; I did not make them public until this one.

My husband divulged to them the story of my other two miscarriages, blaming my poor background and body for them. I had to listen and watch as they made me a clown, as if my other pregnancies were my fault as if I was the one in the wrong. Maybe that is when I realized we would never be partners. Now I know we will never be friends.

Yes now I know what I must do, to pay him for the consequences he has laid on myself, Fooling me three times is enough, I will assure him there will not be a fourth.