Post by FicWriter on Nov 29, 2008 3:16:03 GMT 10
My Anger
(A ficlet written to answer the question, "What makes you angriest?" in Theatrical Muse on Live Journal.)
by JD
I've faced many challenges in my life, I've seen the results of war closer then anyone should ever have to. I've seen the damage one person can inflict on another over the smallest of things and I've seen those willing to allow abuse to be inflicted on them in the name of love. Of all that I've seen though there is one thing which affects me more then all the rest and that is the ability of a mother to place her own comfort above the life of her child.
I can only hope that none of you are ever placed in the position where you will have to watch a child die because of their mother's selfishness, but I have had to do just that.
I remember the first time it happened, a young woman had come into the ER, her pregnancy almost full-term. She had come into the ER suffering from a stab wound and claimed to not know she was pregnant even though she was clearly 32 weeks along. While the wound was not fatal for her, the same could not be said for her baby and I knew that unless she underwent a cesarean her child wound not survive.
As I fought to save that innocent baby's life I couldn't shake the feeling that the mother's wounds were self-inflicted. Here was a young woman who was so unwilling to bring the child she carried into this world that she would do whatever it took to stop it.
I don't remember how many hours I fought for that child's life, I argued that she had no right to let it die and even went so far as to try and get a court to intervene. In the end it wasn't enough and the baby died, leaving me to assist the woman in the delivery of her now dead son.
I think of all the people in the world who would give anything to be parents, think of those like myself who have lost their children through no fault of there own, and then I see this woman's face. Here she had the chance to give birth to a healthy baby boy, a boy she could have then given to someone who was longing for one and instead she let him die.
Once I make my way past the grief I feel for the child, and the disgust I feel toward the mother what remains is the anger, and I see no way to set it aside.
The End
(A ficlet written to answer the question, "What makes you angriest?" in Theatrical Muse on Live Journal.)
by JD
I've faced many challenges in my life, I've seen the results of war closer then anyone should ever have to. I've seen the damage one person can inflict on another over the smallest of things and I've seen those willing to allow abuse to be inflicted on them in the name of love. Of all that I've seen though there is one thing which affects me more then all the rest and that is the ability of a mother to place her own comfort above the life of her child.
I can only hope that none of you are ever placed in the position where you will have to watch a child die because of their mother's selfishness, but I have had to do just that.
I remember the first time it happened, a young woman had come into the ER, her pregnancy almost full-term. She had come into the ER suffering from a stab wound and claimed to not know she was pregnant even though she was clearly 32 weeks along. While the wound was not fatal for her, the same could not be said for her baby and I knew that unless she underwent a cesarean her child wound not survive.
As I fought to save that innocent baby's life I couldn't shake the feeling that the mother's wounds were self-inflicted. Here was a young woman who was so unwilling to bring the child she carried into this world that she would do whatever it took to stop it.
I don't remember how many hours I fought for that child's life, I argued that she had no right to let it die and even went so far as to try and get a court to intervene. In the end it wasn't enough and the baby died, leaving me to assist the woman in the delivery of her now dead son.
I think of all the people in the world who would give anything to be parents, think of those like myself who have lost their children through no fault of there own, and then I see this woman's face. Here she had the chance to give birth to a healthy baby boy, a boy she could have then given to someone who was longing for one and instead she let him die.
Once I make my way past the grief I feel for the child, and the disgust I feel toward the mother what remains is the anger, and I see no way to set it aside.
The End
