The Empty Cradle

Even though the walls were freshly painted, flakes were peeling off them.
The mold wasn’t clearly visible, but if you drew closer, you could still see it triumphing over the cheap thin paint.

The long and white corridor was choking me. I had been many times into a hospital. But this time things were different.

“The baby… is killing her.”

I turned my look, facing the doctor. His voice was cold and professional. His face wore no expression, the kind of doctor who has seen it all, immune to feelings and attachments. For him, losing a patient had become just another number in the system.

“What did you say?”
My voice trembled, pretending I didn’t hear him.

“I’m sorry, but time is of the essence… So, I have to ask you. The baby or the mother?”

“You’re asking me to choose between my boy and my wife?”

“I’m asking you where shall we concentrate our efforts. There had been… several pregnancy complications.”

We could have gone to a better hospital. We could have had a better doctor. But we were saving to buy a house.

I was lost for a moment in my own world, imagining the new house, living all together. She, me, and the baby. A small, happy family.

“A decision has to be made, quickly.”

“I want to talk to her.”

“She’s under heavy medication.”

I had to choose. Between the person that I knew and loved with all my heart, and another one that I haven’t even seen yet. The answer was easy, but not the outcome.

“Sir, if you don’t make a choice now, there is a high possibility to lose them both. Every second counts.”

I was sitting. My legs couldn’t hold me up anymore. I felt like a schoolboy who hadn’t done his homework, trying to find an excuse. The doctor was standing before me, still waiting for an answer.

Finally, the words came out as little more than a whisper.
“Save her.”

And even though I knew it was the right answer, a quiet sadness blanketed me.

The doctor nodded, turned his back, and strode away.

Although I wasn’t the religious type, I prayed that night.

I don’t recall a lot after this part. I remember signing papers that I hadn’t read, I remember the doctor telling me that my baby is gone. I remember her calling me “disgusting”. I remember her shutting the door with a luggage in hand.

We had been together for so many years, but after that day, she changed. It was like her heart was inside the baby, and when the baby died, she died as well.

You’re supposed to love your baby more than your own life. I do. Honestly, I do. If I could trade my life for the baby, I could do it in a blink of an eye.

Five years have passed since then. Since she left me. Five years since she hasn’t talked to me.

But that’s okay.

I’ve heard she found someone else. I’ve heard she is happy now.

I’ve spent endless nights, drinking myself into oblivion, staring at the empty cradle. This night will be the last.

The noose around my neck is strong, and consciousness fades, as I surrender to the deadly lull.

But that’s okay… The pain will end soon.