OCR Text |
Show Motherlunge a novel 119 so fast, and then when she arrived it had been so much more difficult than she'd thought it would be. Plus, she (Dorothy) had gotten sick! -and then her mother had come to stay. And it was like when you're carrying something that's too heavy, and so you hand it to someone to hold so you can make an adjustment-get a better grip-but then they won't give it back. Alva never gave Pavia back. I said you could borrow it, not have it! The children used to say that to each other all the time, later, as little girls, tugging from two sides. So as her belly grew with the second baby, Dorothy reminded herself that this baby would be hers, truly, to deliver naturally and breastfeed and imprint upon and bond with. She pictured it emerging from her body like the second Russian doll inside the biggest Russian doll, shiny with phospholipid lacquer and plumped by good prenatal care, pre-molded to her, fitting. Dorothy can remember what she hoped for so much better than what actually happened. For Dorothy the hoped-for version is always more real. What actually happened was that her doctor told her to come to the hospital on a Monday. So she and Walter came together-Alva stayed with Pavia at home-and they stood at the high reception desk and filled out the papers. "Good luck,' Walter said, and then they led Dorothy away down the hall and put her in a room. She changed into a gown, and they started an IV. They left her alone with a copy of Ladies Home Journak And the labor pain did begin more slowly this time, but of course it grew; it changed form. It was hurting, and then it began to pull her apart. Dorothy pushed the button on the side of the bedrail because she thought she was being destroyed. Can this marriage be saved? She thought about what she had hoped |