Suddenly, it struck me. The room, the scent of antiseptic, and the heaviness in the air were precisely unchanged.
This wasn't a dream.
I was really back, back in the day, eighteen years ago, when I gave birth to my son.
There was no time to fall apart. The contractions were getting worse, sharper, closer together. I knew I didn't have long.
"Aunt Clara, you have to listen to me," I said, grabbing her wrist. "You need to remember everything I'm about to say. Every word."
She stared at me, confused and silent. But I didn't wait. I told her everything I could that mattered, before they wheeled me into the delivery room.
As they pushed the gurney down the hall, the floodlights overhead poured down on my face, sterile and blinding.
The anesthesia hadn't kicked in yet, so my mind was still sharp. Every beep, every footstep, every breath felt magnified.
Outside, I could already hear my mother-in-law, Eleanor Wilson.
Her voice was shrill, slicing through the hallway like broken glass.
"Why should my golden grandson be registered under some orphan girl's name? That's pure bad luck! Is someone trying to take my grandson? Not a chance in hell!"
Then, Eleanor scoffed. "Fifteen points? Please. Every Wilson kid is smart. We don't need charity points to get into college. Who does she think she is? If she's got something to say, let her drag her sorry self out here and say it to my face! And you don't think being a paid nurse gives you a say in family matters. Stay in your damn place!"
Just like before, I lay on the delivery table, teetering between life and death while Aunt Clara tried her best to relay my wishes to Paul and his mother that my son should be registered under my name once again.
But Eleanor, who was outside the delivery room, didn't back down. She spewed insults at Aunt Clara like poison, spitting out slurs and curses like she had nothing better to do.
For two whole hours, she dragged my name through the mud. She cursed my family and my background like she'd rehearsed every line just for this day.
"Tell the patient's family to quiet down!" the lead surgeon snapped. "The patient's blood pressure is spiking. If they keep yelling, we might lose her!"
A nurse rushed out to try to contain the chaos.
When the anesthesia finally kicked in, I drifted into a fog.
But even in that unconsciousness, the nightmare of my past life came roaring back—one brutal memory after another.