Chapter 4 — Ex-Wife Reincarnated

“The baby is very healthy,” She flipped through my previous pregnancy checkup book, “The last ultrasound showed that everything was normal.”

“I know.”

“Why not keep it?”

I opened the small bag I brought with me, took out the divorce agreement, and pushed it towards her. The doctor picked it up and looked at it, his eyebrows furrowed more and more. “What are you signing today?”

“Yes.”

“Leave empty-handed?” She looked up at me, her eyes complicated, "Your husband forced you to leave empty-handed?"

“He brought the pregnant little tam home,” I said, “I told him we can't let our child be born out of wedlock.”

The doctor took a deep breath. “So what about your child?” She asked, “What did he say?”

“He said,” I paused for a moment, “When my third child is born and has a household registration, he will remarry me.”

“What will your child do by then?”

“Probably made me fall and I fell.” I smiled faintly, "Or, perhaps he has forgotten this child's existence."

The doctor put down the agreement. She took off her glasses and rubbed her forehead. "Girl, this is not a joke. You're 5 months pregnant, forcing a premature birth is like giving birth once, it's very harmful to your health."

“I know.”

“Are you sure you want to do that?”

I looked out the window. At 11 p.m., the sky was pitch black. "Doctor," I turned my head, "The baby's father doesn't need it anymore. I'm such an orphan, I left empty-handed, no money, no home. Give birth to this baby, let it suffer with me? Or let it be an unrecognized illegitimate child? Instead," My voice was very light, "It's better not to come to this world again." The doctor was silent for a long time, so long that I thought she was going to refuse.

“Go to the hospital.” Finally she said, “Do the test first, then arrange the surgery.”

I signed a bunch of papers. Risk notice, surgery consent form... Each paper must have the name "To Van" written on it. My hands were shaking, my handwriting was crooked. The nurse took me to the hospital room. Single room, very clean. "Change your clothes and rest first. Start taking your medicine tomorrow morning." I changed into the hospital gown, the fabric was rough and rubbed against my skin. Lie down, put your hands on your stomach. The treasure is moving, once, then another, as if protesting.

“I'm sorry.” I whispered, “I'm sorry.” Tears welled up, wetting the pillow.

The next morning, the nurse brought the medicine. The tablets are white, very small. “Drink this, then wait for your uterus to contract.” I took it and drank it with warm water. There is no feeling. An hour later, my stomach started to hurt, like menstrual cramps, intermittently. I curled up in bed, counting my breaths. Pain, very pain. But it's nothing compared to the gaping wound in my heart. At noon, the nurse came to check. “It's two inches open, let's go to the delivery room.” I sat up on my hands and knees, my legs were weak. The nurse helped me and slowly walked towards the delivery room. The hallway is very long, white walls, white lights, white blouses, as if leading to some end. The delivery room was very cold. I lay on the table, my arms and legs immobilized. The doctor walked in, male. “Don't stress,” He said, “We'll try to relieve your pain.” I nodded. Anesthesia is injected, the lower half of the body gradually loses feeling. But consciousness is still awake. I can feel the tools working on my body. No pain. But I know what's going on. My child, is leaving me. Thoroughly. Tear flowing continuously, unable to hold back. The doctor took a look at me. “Should I turn on some music for you?”

“No need.”

I closed my eyes, imagining mountains, sunshine, freedom. Surgery ended. I was pushed back to the hospital room. My body felt drained, not my stomach, but my entire being. Empty. The nurse gave me fluids. “Rest well, monitor for 3 days.” I stared at the ceiling. White, pure white. Like my future.