The Greatest Loss

“Negativity is born from the rejection of our own divinity,” my mother’s words echoed inside me. I believe I would have lost my mind already, had the memories of her not provided me company. She expressed this phrase to me as a child, and is something I think of often. It’s the accuracy of it all. The world never truly accepted the divinity of women. Now, it’s too late.

In 2022, cancer became particularly rampant amongst females, 80% worldwide were effected. A small percentage actually recovered. The government wouldn’t release any information to the public, none of us knew what was causing this pandemic. That’s when a doctor of Environmental Medicine in Michigan, released this statement a year later.

“We have all endured a great loss and possibly the greatest tragedy of our existence. We have grieved our mothers, daughters, and sisters, and a massive amount of hope for the future of our species. I am here to tell you today, that the climate crisis wasn’t addressed in time. What the public wasn’t fully aware of, is that these environmental changes, harmed women inadvertently, and exponentially more. We have found that overtime, the female body begins carrying more toxins, that come from fossil fuel emissions, food, and polluted water. We poisoned our people, and our planet, we may never know if we could have saved humanity from this tragedy. If only we handled mother earth with more care. Pray for those who remain. Pray for us all.”

His name is Dr. Ezra Wick. Although he appears progressive, maybe even an ally of women, he is actually the father of the Rebirth Program. It sounds cheery, but it’s actually a catch and imprisonment system for the remaining women of earth. With the goal of replenishing mankind. I say mankind, because Doctor Wick ran into an issue after the first few births. All of the babies were boys for some reason. Maybe it was mother Earth’s punishment after centuries of abuse, or it had something to do with genetics. Nonetheless, no one was having girls. The Earth is practically uninhabitable at this point. So any women who managed to stay free, have resorted to turning themselves in. I was caught at a rally in Portland. Swarms of blacked out vans captured us off the streets. They later claimed to the media it was for our own safety, and that keeping us in their custody was for our own wellbeing.

Upon arrival at the Rebirth Facility, I met a Midwife who took me in. Women with reproductive healthcare experience weren’t required to procreate. Before the end of the world, she was a Midwife in Utah. She was a youthful looking woman, who was deceitfully in her 40s. She has the brain power of a philosopher, and the kindness of a saint. Her name was Olsen.

I was terrified the day they called me in for my first physical. Before there was a chance to have a proper panic attack, they injected me with something for my nerves. All I remember after that was Olsen, wiping my tears, and holding my immobile hand. I woke up some hours later, feeling groggy and confused. My mind kept betraying me, I wasn’t used to waking up anywhere but home yet. This wasn’t my home. One male nurse approached me. My poor vision prevented me from seeing him still, but I heard him clearly, " Carra, are you aware you’re pregnant?”

I kept my head down, avoiding eye contact, frozen by complete shock. I didn’t know I was. After all, I was alone, afraid, and unsure of my future. My heart was burdened deeply. Most days I coped by pretending that it wasn’t real, until I couldn’t. It became more difficult as my body changed, and the morning sickness set in. At 21 weeks, Olsen conducted my half way ultrasound. By this point, I had lost all hope. “I can’t do this anymore,” I sobbed.

Olsen shifted her gaze from the monitor, to my protruding stomach.

“What?” Thinking she was upset about my remark.

“Carra look at this,” she pointed to the ultrasound monitor excitedly.

I couldn’t make out anything on the black and white screen. Olsen sensed my confusion, and fumbled for a sticky note. She quickly wrote a word and stuck it on the screen.

"Girl," it read.

My heart sank and for the first time since becoming pregnant I felt different. It was like a warmth in my chest. Similar to how summer used to feel on my skin when I was a little girl. “Olsen, they’ll take it away.”

She shook her head and went back to writing, then passed me the notepad. "We are getting you out."

Eight months later, we were ready. Women have only been known to leave the facility once, when they are in labor. Then a driver, and a midwife would accompany you to a nearby hospital. Fully funded by Dr. Wick, and completely air locked and sterilized to the outer environment. These are the remaining safe spaces on Earth. According to Olsen, it’s a lie.

“There is this place-” Olsen began.

“It’s a colony of radicals, free-thinkers, and scientists.”

“How is that possible? It’s a complete wasteland out there” I responded.

“It’s a doomsday colony they have been preparing for this for over a decade, it’s called the OASYS,” she paused and took a deep breath. Like she was preparing to tell me something difficult.

“I haven’t told you the truth.”

“What?”

“My name is Jules; I go by my last name so that no one will recognize me.”

“Okay I figured as such, no one is named Olsen.”

She smiled, “Keep up with that humor, you’re going to need it kid.”

I understood what she was telling me, this journey would be dangerous. Even for someone who wasn’t in labor.

“I am from OASYS” she revealed, “I didn’t come here to serve as a midwife, I came here to find you.”

She then told me a story of her home. OASYS is the Obstetrics, and Symptomology Society. Its originators included doctors who knew years ago what awaited humanity. Many of them saw symptoms in their female patients long before the pandemic. Becoming whistle blowers ruined them all. So they began a coalition, and brought their families to a bio farm and safe house. Their purpose, was to find a way to restore Earth’s environment, and act as a safe house to refugees. Apparently, the researchers made a discovery thanks to two refugees in particular. These women had successfully given birth to girls.

“The missing link was the Psychology. Our genetics adapted, for some it caused cancer, but for others in low stress environment, there was a 60% increased chance of having a girl. Women can’t have them at the facility because it isn’t conducive to a woman’s wellbeing.”

I was not only relieved that this wasn’t the end for women, but also felt enraged that we were all sentenced to a life we that now seemed useless. Olsen continued, “I came here to help women like you Carra, to take you home with me.”

“How are we going to make it?”

She opened a medical bag beside her and displayed its contents. A tank of oxygen, As well as a gas mask with a tube, and an envelope. “This is how.”

That night, I woke up in pain. It felt like waves crashing all over my stomach. This was accompanied by blood tinged liquid on the sheets. I was in labor, it was time. I was rushed out to a blacked SUV in a wheelchair, and helped into the back seat. Olsen quickly joined, as well as the driver, then we were off. We sat in silence. The contractions were getting more intense now. I caught Olsen staring at me in her mirror. She nodded and I recognized her signal, it was time to brace myself for impact. As we approached a bend, Olsen suddenly grabbed the steering wheel and jerked it towards her. There was a crunching of metal, and a scream. Then nothingness.

I came to moments later, and gently brushed my forehead with my fingertips, blood. In a dazed state, I managed to get myself to the front seat. Olsen was holding her right leg and sobbing “Its broken,” she gasped in pain.

She then handed me her watch, “This is to time your contractions, when you reach less than 4 minutes apart baby is coming soon.”

“Wait you’re not-” She cut me off, “Take this.”

Olsen ripped off her necklace and handed it to me.

It was a heart shaped, silver locket. “Do not lose it,” she asserted. We then heard sirens cascading down the highway.

“Carra you have to go now!”

I felt broken, “Olsen I can’t.”

“GO NOW!”

I grabbed the medic bag, quickly put the on the mask, shoved my door wide open, and ran. The sun was blaring, even through the glasses of the mask. I hadn’t seen the sun in months. Other than that, the land outside was desolate. There was nothing left, except me. I ran as fast as I could to a nearby cavern, taking cover. Olsen told me to read the contents of the envelope, if things went south. My hands were shaking with adrenaline, holding the note was difficult. Following a few breaths, I recited it, “Carra, if you are reading this I’m most likely unable to join you from this point forward. I am sorry. But I know you are strong, you will make it. You have to, for me, for your baby, and for the future of womankind. I love you like my own daughter. May this love between women persist into the future. I will have given you my locket. This is important, because inside you will find a picture.” I opened the locket, and there was a small photograph of Olsen, holding a baby. “Please give this to my family upon arrival. They are waiting for you, may my family become yours now,” I realized then that Olsen actually has a daughter. Who is alive, hoping her mother will return.

On the back of the letter, there was a map. Which would lead me to OASYS. I held the note close to my heart and toppled over. From pain, grief, exhaustion, and injury. Olsen sacrificed herself for me. “I shouldn’t have left her” I wept. I realized then, that these were the first words I have ever spoken to my baby. So I continued, “I’m so sorry, I wish I could show you more. I wish I could have given you the ocean,” I cried for what felt like hours. About the Ocean, about Olsen, and her daughter. I cried for my mother who I wish was with me right now holding me. I cried for myself, I cried for Earth. I couldn’t stop.

Labor had stalled out, contractions were spacing. So I fell asleep, on the hot floor of the cavern. The next morning, I laid still. Again, my mind betrayed me. I wasn’t home, or at the facility. The previous day rushed back to me, Olsen. I sat up slowly, to check the oxygen tank, it was half empty now. I’m not going to make it. The air was deadly now, everything was. The odds were against me. So I did the only thing I could think of, I prayed. For the first time in my life. It was then that mother’s favorite poem came to mind. “Beyond this place of wrath and tears looms by the horror of the shade, and yet the menace of the years finds and shall find me unafraid.” I caressed my stomach “You hear that baby girl?” Then, another contraction began. I couldn’t give up now, not ever.

I started the timer on the watch, and stared out into the bleak, scorching desert.

I stood up, and hugged my stomach assuredly,

“Let’s go home.”