Brandy is the mother of four, stepmom of two, homemaker, college student, and lover of the mysterious. She grew up with a single mom who was in the military and spent the most imaginative summers with her father and bonus mom, both of whom were kindergarten teachers. Most of her youth was spent enveloped in books, a passion that has recently rekindled itself, along with the joys of writing.
You can find her here on Facebook HERE
HAPPY NEW FEAR
by
Brandy Cornett
Labor and Delivery was lively and bustling with excitement. Everyone anticipating the new year and the official first birth of the year. Parents-to-be were brimming with anxious thoughts, praying for healthy babies but also hoping to be parents to this year's Baby New Year. Dreams of a year’s supply of diapers, wipes, and a full ride scholarship to State University filled their minds.
After watching the Times Square ball drop on the break room TV, I rushed from room to room checking on my patients and the progress they were making. It was 30 minutes until midnight and already three mamas had welcomed their precious babies into the world. Room 6, 9, and 13 were on track to deliver right around midnight and the rest of the nurses were already putting in their bets on which one of us would help bring the baby new year into the world. I zoomed past the break room not noticing the static zigzagging the screen instead of the hottest new artist gracing the stage of the all-night party. It had already begun on the east coast and none of us were the wiser.
11:45pm hit and all three rooms were bustling, monitors rhythmically beeping, parents groaning through the pains of childbirth. I checked the progress of my patient in room 13; she was 10 cm, 100% effaced and the baby’s head was in the perfect position to start pushing. In came the doctor and I could tell this baby was definitely going to be born quickly. Four pushes later we were on the precipice, it was now 11:59pm and baby’s head was out and only the shoulders were left to be birthed. Deep breaths filled the room, the last push was upon us.
Alarms began ringing from the monitors just as midnight hit. Something was wrong. All attention went straight to baby as he slipped from the warm happy home he had known and into this cold outside world. The silence that followed struck to the core, a silence every new parent fears. No cries blessed our ears, no wiggling pink arms and legs to wrap in warm swaddles, just limp limbs of blue gray. Our team worked as hard as they could to bring him back to us, but it just wasn’t enough.
I did my best to wrap his tiny body so that his parents could hold him and say their goodbyes. This was the absolute worst part of my job and these moments never got easier. I handed the lifeless soul to the only person to know his heart, to have felt his love. A tear escaped down my cheek as I closed the door behind me.
I was jolted from my melancholy to a scene of complete chaos. Monitors beeping from every room, mothers despair filled the air, phones ringing off the hook. Panic was in every corner, and I had no choice but to jump in. I quickly ran to the nurse's station and picked up the phone. The voice on the other line screamed at me that their baby wasn’t due for a few more weeks but she had felt a sharp pain in her abdomen followed by what seemed to be nonstop bleeding. I advised her to come straight to the hospital.
Call after call came in describing the same horrific situation. I had never seen anything like this in my 15 years working in L&D. A hand touched my shoulder, breaking my thoughts, and causing me to cry out in surprise. I turned to see my patients’ partner in serious distress.
“He’s moving!” They said and rushed back to their room. I quickly followed not completely understanding what they meant. It just wasn’t possible. As I crossed the threshold into the room, I saw movement from the blanket. I froze when his mother pulled back the blanket showing the reanimated corpse within. He was indeed moving but the color of life was nowhere to be seen. A strange growling noise spewed from his mouth as it nestled into his mother’s chest and chomped down. My eyes went wide, I gasped in disbelief. I could hear the mother screaming, screams were coming from everywhere. What was happening?
I backed up against the door as the dead child continued feeding on his mother, his other parent frozen in fear nearby. Blood soaked the sheets, and a gurgled last breath escaped the mother’s lips as a similar chaos ensued beyond these doors.
Mothers would join the hoard of undead babies, thus feeding on the nurses and doctors in the vicinity. We would then succumb to the living death that followed the attack and continue the cycle on the closest living person. The New Fear had begun, and there was no way out.