May 5th, 2035. Willenhall Hospital, Room 208
“You’re almost there Quinn, she’s nearly here!” The doctor urged the redhead on, the pain worsening as she continued to push. Taking deep and slowed breaths as she was taught in her prenatal class, Quinn squeezed harder onto Jon’s hand and she was sure the circulation had cut off. She had wanted to scream, it hurt so much but it was nothing new. This was her fourth child, and it would be her last because holy hell if she had to go through this kind of pain again...
Jon squeezed his wife’s hand back, though not as hard, wiping her sweat cemented hair to the side of her face. “Come on love, you can see her eyes now, they look just like yours.” Quinn let out a strangled laugh, squeezing his hand again as she let out another large push.
“Ahhh, don’t you ever...get me...pregnant...again!” Was all she could muster at the time, focusing on getting this child the hell out of her.
“Here she is! Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Wolfe she’s beautiful. Little baby Emma.” The couple had already decided on a name a couple weeks ago when they’d learned they were having a baby girl. Emma was a beautiful name, and they thought it would fit their soft spoken baby girl perfectly. The doctor leaned down and cradled the newborn in her arms while Jon rushed over to his daughter. His hand reached out to cradle her head, his eyes welling up when he looked up at his wife. Quinn was resting back against her pillow, a smile on her lips as she reached for her baby. “Why...Jon, why isn’t she crying? Is she alright? Can I just see her?”
The doctor looked confused for a moment, checking the baby’s pulse, and holding her up. Jon looked from the doctor to his wife, a look of concern in his eyes. “I- Mrs. Wolfe, we’ll need to just take her for a moment.”
“What? No, no let me hold my daughter please-”
“I’m sorry Mrs. Wolfe, there might be something wrong with her lungs. I don’t want you to worry at all, please rest, we’ll have her back in no time.” The doctor cut the umbilical cord, the only attachment Quinn had left to her child. With her arms still outstretched, Quinn leaned forward only to cry out in pain. All she wanted was her daughter in her arms.
“Please! No, don’t take her- Jon? Jon what’s going on?” She frantically looked about the room, holding onto her now empty stomach. Jon moved to his wife, watching them take his daughter out of the room as he held onto her hand.
“It’ll be alright, love. Emma will be alright.”
May 19th, two weeks later at Willenhal Hospital.
“It’s been two weeks. I haven’t held my child, it’s been two weeks, and you’re telling me you don’t know what the hell is wrong with her?” Quinn spat, her fingers wrapped tightly around the chair she was seated in, her husband’s hand rested on her back. Jon made a move to try and sit her back in her chair but she pushed him back the only way she could right now, with her abilities.
“You’re telling me my daughter will never be able to have her first words? I will never hear my daughter speak to me, and you don’t know what’s wrong?”
“Mrs. Wolfe, I’m so sorry for this unfortunate accident, but we’ve ran all the tests we can. We don’t know what is wrong with Emma. Maybe if we kept her another week-”
“Absolutely not. You will release my daughter to my husband and I, we will walk out of here with Emma in our arms and you can look back on all those expensive fancy tests you took and tell me what the hell went wrong. Is that understood?” Quinn stated firmly, her eyes like fire and her heart beating out of her chest. She had never felt anger like this in her entire life, and all she could see was red in front of her. For a minute she thought she’d pass out from how goddamn angry she was with these people.
“Quinn.” “No. No, you...I haven’t held my child once. She had been on this earth for two weeks, and I have not held...my child. So you don’t get to say anything right now, Jon. And you. You will find out what we can do to help our daughter, and you will tell me in the next week. Right now, I’m taking my daughter home. She’s going to be tested on for the rest of her life with a condition like this. Right now, she’s two weeks old, probably afraid and confused and I am her mother. She’s coming home.” Quinn stood with those last words out in the air, opening the door and waiting for Jon to follow. Slowly, her husband rose, following his wife out the door. Just as the doctor was about to speak, Quinn slammed the door behind them, cutting her off.
Quinn began to walk in a random direction, hoping she would end up at her daughter’s side.“Quinn, the nursery is this way.” Jon stated quietly, taking his wife’s hand to lead her the right direction.
“We’ll learn sign language if we have to. We all will.”
“Of course we will, love.”
“And she’ll talk more than anyone. She’ll fill the air with her words, even if she can’t speak them.”
“She’ll be brilliant, Quinn.”