Death of Lottiemae's son

short monologue

It was a sunny day in June of 1969; I was going into labor to have my baby. Laying on the table in the delivery room at the hospital, I see nurses, doctors all around me. The doctor said."'You have dialated nine cm. ready to have the baby."' I thought that I could push but, the doctor said don't push yet. I wish this baby would come on here, I couldn't have any water, so they gave me ice chips ain't that a b***h.

So here goes the baby is ready to come, Harold standing by my side, holding my hand, I'm squeezing his hand until his fingers got cramped. The doctors asked him if he would like to come and see the baby be born, his brave a*s said yea, sure.

So he went down to the end of the table to see, and as soon as the head comes out, we all heard a thump, that fool fainted I said, "'what a fine time for you to take a nap."' He didn't do this when giving this child to me.

So the baby is here, I heard my baby boy cry, then all of a sudden it stopped. they rushed my baby to ICU for babies, the doctors and nurses were talking all around me. I wanted to see my baby, but they wouldn't let me, when Harold came to I told him to go and see what's up with our baby. By this time I was wheeled to my room, and when Harold came to the room, tears streaming down his face, I just knew that my baby died.

Author's Note

tell me what you think

Reviews

[MichelleSun]

Interesting....quite an attention-getter...but I notice in your writings you use a lot of cliches and sitcom-like plots. Try more originality, more beauty in your language...and more more more details...for example, instead of repeating "the baby" "the baby" change it up; the first time you can say "the baby" then you can my something like "the newest one" "the child" or "the little bundle". It makes your poetry more interesting and readers will not get bored even if the plot is somewhat predictable. Keep writing! Good Job!

[Ash Morgrimm]

I feel like its missing something.. I cant quite put my finger on it but it almost sounds a little one sided. Thats not a bad thing though. If that is the way you like to write it then more power to you! I would break up the sentences a little more to make it more dramatic (like a poem of sorts) that will really get the reader interested and burst out crying when the baby died! ^^ if that was what you were going for hee hee

Good luck!

[AJChallenger]

Expand on this. Make it a few pages. Describe more of the feeling. Have more dialogue. Develop the characters a bit more. You've got a great start, but this can be a really great piece.

[Nancy Lee Shrader]

I can relate to this short piece. My first baby was born in July of 1969. She only weighed 4 lbs. 8 oz. There were many things wrong with her. She was purple from lack of oxygen and had a cyst on her chest the size of a jumbo egg. Doctors didn't expect her to live. She teaches school and has given me my three grandchildren. Remove the husband from the delivery room. They weren't allowed in their in that day and age. My husband was sent to the "Father's Waiting Room" Liked it.

[~*The Writer In Me*~]

The ending surprised me. I didn't expect the baby to die. Guess I didn't pay attention to the title.

[Aspiring Angel]

It is hard not to find yourself within a predictable plot in this day and age. LOL It seems that everyone's story is our own or has been a part of ourselves. I am sorry I have not dropped in to see you for awhile. Life just requires much more of my time than I would like it to. There we go "predictable" again. I liked this story and I am so sorry to leave it right now with the possibility that the baby is not alright. But that darned thing called time is calling me. I will be back to continue this. I think I saw another chapter in your titles. I think that Michelle has some great suggestions for you. Oh my I wonder what she would think if she ever found herself in my site? ROTFL At least she was kind in her review and that is how we all learn our craft and how suggestions should be made. I give you both Kudos I myself loved this. Blessings, Lesa