#she was like even when you switch to prenatal care you can come in anytime for a quick scan to see the heartbeat/reassure yourself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

champhangman · 3 years

Text

Two More

Title: Two More Fandom / Character(s): AEW / Matt Jackson x OFC Warnings: A little suggestive language, but really nothing. Word Count: 2,650 Notes: This is my (belated) birthday and (early) Christmas gift for my beloved @wardl0w. Sister J, you’re simply amazing and I can’t even begin to get into how much you mean to me. This is also a tie-in to my multipart Christmas fic, Recipe for a Perfect Christmas, and features Matt and Shayna (aka J... it’s really her OC that I totally stole without permission borrowed). Hope you enjoy! More Notes: My entry into @12daysofchristmas for Day 10 (baking/cookies)

The Tag Crew: @adampage / @cowboyshit / @lilmisswhiskeygypsy / @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis / @kalliravenne / @sadlittlecountess / @baronsbelleevangeline / @brie-mode-activated / @xbreezymeadowsx / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch / @wardl0w / @hotyeehawman / @waywardwrestlewritingwaif / @drewshoneybadger / @mysteryoflovve / @knnyomega / @rampagewriting / @hurricanranabaybay / @linziland13 / @bastardkingbrutalizer / @snarkandsarcasmftw / @rubyred1980 / @champnick / @edgecution / @nething4perfection / @gabbynorth98 / (please drop me an ask/send me a message/reply to my post if you’d like to be tagged)

***

"Here you go."

Shayna pulled her gaze from the TV screen and eyed the cup Matt was holding. The aroma of spices wafted under her nose and, sitting up, she reached for the cup. "What is it?"

"Some of the Christmas tea from your mom."

"Mm." She took a sip and sighed. "Tastes like apple pie."

"You want to try a treat?"

"The last time you asked me that we bought a house." She smiled at the memory of a slightly musty smelling basement, cold brick, and the heat of Matt's lips.

"I thought it was when you were cleaning out the closet."

"I did that before the house." She paused before taking another sip of tea. She hoped she had. Otherwise, the little surprise she'd gotten had occurred in that cold dark basement… Pushing that thought away, she took another sip. "What's your treat?"

"I made some of those Peanut Butter Surprises."

"Sure, I'll take one." She considered herself a woman of simple tastes, and preferred plain sugar cookies, but anytime Matt worked in the kitchen she was inundated with flavors. She could have blamed the few extra pounds she'd gained on his ramped up baking in recent weeks, but she knew the true reason. "Are there sugar cookies?"

"Of course." He grinned and disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned he was holding a small plate.

"I smell chocolate," she sighed. The cookies were large, nearly the size of her palm, and were domed. They didn't look particularly breathtaking or scrumptious, but she knew from experience that some of the best things Matt created in the kitchen were presented plainly. She could feel the warmth of them and breathed in the smell.

"This one has chocolate, this one doesn't," he said, indicating which was which. "I'm thinking of doing a drizzle design on top."

"Mm," she murmured thoughtfully. Picking up the one without chocolate, she hissed at the heat. It was going to be good. She knew it. Over recent weeks he had taken over the kitchen both day and night, going over the recipes he had been given and first working to perfect them then adding his own twists. Snickerdoodles with swirls of cinnamon sugar twisted into the dough, substituting different nuts for pecans or walnuts. She had tried them all, encouraging when he was doing well and being honest when his attempts needed more work. Her sweet tooth was being satisfied and then some.

There was just one small problem.

"Matthew."

"Hmm?"

"I can't taste test it if you're breathing down my neck."

"I'm not breathing down your neck."

"You're hanging over me."

He huffed out a sigh and took a large step back. "Better?"

She squinted at him, then turned her attention back to the cookie. Lifting it to her mouth, she took a large bite, eyes drifting shut as baked deliciousness exploded on her tongue. The cookie itself was lightly flavored with peanut butter, and the center reminded her of the peanut butter balls he made each Christmas. "Mm," she moaned, wanting to chew slowly to savor it but also wanting to eat the rest. "Oh my god."

Before she could take another bite, she heard his sigh of relief.

As much as she wanted to devour the remainder, she also needed to try the chocolate one. It tasted as good as the first and she moaned again, tongue darting out to catch the filling that clung to her bottom lip. "Oh my god, Matt, these are great."

"Yeah?" he asked.

Shayna glanced at him and saw the smug smile starting to form on his face. His cheeks bulged as it spread further, into a grin, and she felt her own grin forming. "Yeah. I love it. What are you gonna call them?"

"I think I'm gonna stick with Peanut Butter Surprise."

"How many did you make just now?"

"Three of each, why?"

"I want to see how they taste cooled. You can't drop everything to make them fresh if someone orders one, right?"

"Right." He nodded, still grinning, and turned to go into the kitchen. "I'll bring you some iced tea."

"Thank you." Settling back, she pulled her blanket over her legs and sighed happily while eating the rest of the cookies. When he brought her the glass of iced tea she smiled up at him. "What else are you working on?"

"Sugar cookies. I'm trying Lenny's recipe." He took the empty plate. "You need anything else?"

Shayna shook her head and reached for the remote. "I'm perfect."

"Yeah, but do you need anything?"

Laughing at the sentimentality, she shook her head again. "No, really, I'm fine. You don't have to wait on me."

"Babe, you fell."

"I slumped," she corrected.

He set the plate down and sat on the couch. Within seconds he had pulled her feet into his lap. By the time the commercial playing had finished, he had scooted across and shifted her so she rested in his lap. "You sure you don't want to call the doctor?"

Groaning, she let her head rest on his shoulder. "Matt. I'm fine."

"But why did you fall? I'm sorry, why did you slump?" he asked, frowning.

"I'm exhausted? I'm working all day, then I'm spending the evenings packing and wrapping presents for the kids or cleaning, and on weekends we're down in Bells Creek—"

"We can stay home this weekend," he said.

"No," she protested, sitting up. "You've got to meet with Lenny about the recipes. And there's the church thing."

"I can video chat—"

"And get distracted by me or the kids. I'll be fine." She kissed his cheek. "And I do want to go to church."

"We don't even go to church here," he muttered, throwing up his hands.

"I know, but it's Christmas." Smiling when he rolled his eyes and sighed, which she knew meant the matter was settled, she reached for the remote again. "Don't burn the cookies."

"Damn it," he sighed, slipping a kiss to her cheek. "Be right back."

"Mmhmm." She turned her attention back to the TV after he got to his feet. Grunting as he reached to tuck the blanket over her legs, she turned her head to look at him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm fixing the blanket for you."

"Matthew."

"Hmm?"

"What is with you lately?" She gave up on watching TV and switched it off, tossing the remote to the coffee table. "You've been smothering me."

"I have not." He straightened, hands on his hips. "You think I'm smothering you?"

"For the past week you've been flapping around me like a mother hen." If she didn't know better, she would think he'd figured out she was pregnant again. But the man was oblivious about that sort of thing. When she had learned she was going to have Madison she hadn't wanted to tell him too soon, fearing his reaction if she lost her like she'd lost what would have been their first child. So she had held the news back, expecting him to figure it out as the weeks slipped by. When, just after twelve weeks, he had slipped his hand over her middle and joked that she had gained a little weight, she had been too amused that he was truly that unaware to be mad. With Michael it had been the same thing, though she hadn't really worried about suffering another loss. Because she had known from the start that the baby would come, healthy and robust. She had left her obstetrician appointment cards and prenatal vitamins on the kitchen table and counter, she had bought maternity bras and left the tags on the bathroom counter, and Matt had merely nudged those things aside. Finally she had taken the first ultrasound printout and tucked it in a card, writing Pretty sure this one's a boy? inside and leaving it on his nightstand. And she would forever remember his joyous hoot when he'd discovered it the next morning, coming to hug her while she showered.

No, he didn't know. There was no way he knew. If he'd found the positive test stick in the bathroom trash he would have brought it out to her wherever she was and asked if it meant what he thought it did. If he'd seen her obstetrician appointment on the family calendar he would have asked what was up. Either he hadn't noticed, or he was keeping quiet. And she knew her husband. He didn't keep quiet about anything with the people he loved. Which meant he hadn't figured it out.

"I'm just trying to make up for all the time I've had to be away lately," he said. "I know you've had to do so much extra around here since I'm always going back and forth to meet with Lenny—"

"I don't mind," she promised. "When I was doing those classes last year you had to do extra."

"I know, but it's the worst time of year for me to make you carry more weight on your shoulders."

"That's what marriage is," she reminded him. "We pick up the slack, we even it out. At the end of the day as long as the kids are good and things are taken care of, it all works."

The buzzer sounded from the kitchen. Matt looked ready to say something but just nodded. "I just love you, babe."

"I just love you, too."

Smiling now, he headed into the kitchen.

The sugar cookies were delicious. Perfect, and just the way she loved them. She ate more than she should have, encouraged by his obvious delight that she was enjoying them, and washed them down with the iced tea. Then, stretching, she checked the time and groaned. "What time are you leaving?"

"I'm not."

"The kids."

"They're staying with Nick tonight."

"Why?" she asked. Not that she was complaining. She was so tired she knew she wouldn't have the energy to do more than flop on the couch with them and watch a movie or Christmas cartoons. Michael would get bored then want to play, Madison would drag out a million toys and games, and Matt would be in and out of the kitchen. Just thinking of the resulting mess exhausted her. Not that they wouldn't clean up, but the messes gave her anxiety.

"Date night?" he suggested.

"Date night. It's four o'clock, any place we'd want to go is already gonna be packed, I'm wiped out from my fall—"

"Slump."

Rolling her eyes, she lightly nudged his thigh with her foot. "It might have been a little fall."

"I was thinking we could stay in," he said, dropping onto the couch and pulling her legs into his lap. One hand slid to her ankle and began to rub.

"Perfect," she murmured.

"We'll order in and you can find something sappy to watch on TV." His fingers slipped up her calf.

"Good idea, since you've probably destroyed the kitchen."

"I cleaned up as I went," he defended.

"Anymore plans for this date night?" she asked, giggling when he scooted over and half-lay over her.

"It's been a while since we made love," he murmured.

She snorted. "This morning didn't count?"

"I mean in bed."

"Wait." She shifted so she lay on her back, sighing. "People can make love in a bed? You're kidding. I thought they were just for sleeping."

He laughed, and his kiss was gentle. "I hear a lot of people have sex in beds. Like, all the time."

"No way. Is that legal?"

"I think it's more legal than the things we've done."

"Because you get off on the idea of getting caught," she murmured.

"And you don't?"

"I just get off on you."

***

They didn't order in. They stayed on the couch, being sweet and a little sappy and sharing kisses. When he dragged himself away to throw together dinner, she headed for the bathroom for a quick shower. And, seeing her reflection in the mirror, she sighed and wrapped herself in her robe and went to rummage in the closet for the gift she'd planned to give him on Christmas Eve. It wasn't fair to make him wait, to hold onto the knowledge like a secret she didn't want to share. After dressing in her matching shirt and a pair of leggings, she threw the robe on again and headed into the living room. It was corny, she knew, but she also knew he would appreciate the humor.

"Hey," she said when she stepped into the kitchen. She glanced to the sink and saw it was empty. The counters had been wiped down. He had cleaned and she smiled with relief as he turned from the stove.

"What's that?" he asked when she held out the gift box to him.

"An early Christmas present." She waited for him to say he hadn't gotten her anything yet, just so she could quip that he had. But he didn't, grinning as he ripped the paper from the box.

"Thanks, babe," he said, barely glancing into the box before stepping close to give her a kiss.

"Did you even look at it?" she sighed.

"It's a black t-shirt with some writing—"

"Matthew, read it."

Rolling his eyes, he popped the lid off the box again, letting it hit the floor. He pulled out the shirt and held it up, and she saw his eyes squint then the box hit the floor so he could hold the shirt with both hands. "I Put Buns in the Oven," he read softly. "Babe, what… Buns?"

Opening her robe so he could read her shirt, she laughed when his eyes widened. I've Got Two Buns in the Oven.

"Twins?" he whispered, gulping.

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

"Positive. Two little dots on the ultrasound, two heartbeats." She pressed her lips together, needing him to do more than stare at her as though she had told him she were an alien high priestess.

"Twins," he breathed.

"Are we happy about this? Or are you just still in shock?" she asked.

"Definitely shock. I knew you were pregnant, but not with twins—"

"You knew?!"

"Yeah, I figured it out last week. When Nick pointed out I only put on a few pounds when you get pregnant. I looked at the calendar and had to do some math, and…" He grinned, sheepish. "I've been waiting for you to tell me."

"Is this why you've been smothering me?"

"Yeah…" He rubbed the back of his neck. Then his grin widened and he tossed the t-shirt onto the table, reaching to pull her to him. "We're happy about this."

"Absolutely," she agreed.

"How far along are you?"

"About ten weeks."

He was silent for a long moment, then pulled back, grinning. "The basement."

"No! The closet."

"Are you sure? Because the basement was hotter."

"But the closet was almost poetic," she murmured, leaning to kiss his cheek. "Making two babies while our kids were rattling the door…"

"It was hurried and you got a cramp in your leg," he grumbled. He wrapped his arms tighter around her.

"Yeah but it was still great."

"It's always great."

"Yeah, it's always great," she agreed. A giggle bubbled up when he leaned into her for a deep kiss.

"Two more," he whispered a few moments later. Resting his forehead against hers, he sighed.

"Yeah," she murmured. "Thanks for that."

"I'm so sorry."

"This is it," she said. "Four is more than enough."

"Good thing we're moving into a big house."

"New business, new house, new babies…" Shayna couldn't help but grin. "Nobody can say we do anything half-assed."

"Nope, we are definitely whole-assed."

"I love you, by the way."

"Love you too," he sighed, squeezing her close.

"Love you more."

"Love you most."

#matt jackson #matt jackson fanfiction #my fics #not a multipart omg #universe: RPC #12daysofchristmas #for J :)

39 notes · View notes

gloriafc · 5 years

Text

How he acts when you're pregnant:Paul Lahote

He's actually the one who points out something is off about you.

"I can't explain it, something just sounds off." "You want me to go to the doctor because something... sounds off? What drug did you take?" "I'm serious babe." "And I'm serious about the drug."

You reluctantly get in the car as Paul takes you to the free clinic.

Ohhh but neither of you expect what the doctor tells you.

"Nothing's wrong with you. The tests we took show that you're pregnant."

You both sit in silence as the doctor does an ultrasound, playing your baby's heartbeat so you can hear. You can feel Paul gripping your hand as you wrap your head around the fact that you have a human inside of you.

"Alright judging by the size of the fetus you look to be about 8½ weeks along."

The two of you stay silent as you walk back to the car, ultrasound pictures in hand with a list of prenatal vitamins you should start taking. It's not until you're both sitting in the parked car staring at the clinic you just came from, that the news actually hits you.

"Dude I have two hearts!"

Paul stares at you before starting to laugh making you laugh as well. Having kids was something you two talked about when you first got engaged, now you're married. Now neither of you can contain your excitement, but you both know it's bad luck to tell anyone until your second trimester.

"I don't care if Jared's your best friend. It's bad juju, and I will not have it and it's negative energy. You don't see me telling Emily."

Since finding out the off sound he heard was your baby's heartbeat in sync with yours, he stays up listening to it on nights he can't sleep, or when you fall asleep before him.

Since he's the only one of the pack that's so in tune to you, no one notices the extra heartbeat when you're around.

Paul thought you were hot before and after you started dating. Let's be honest you have him in the palm of your hand. But now that you have a bump, his mouth waters just looking at you. He's now wrapped around your little finger. Just wait until this baby gets here.

Your bump is still small enough so no one can see it if you're wearing baggier clothes and since it's always rainy, you use it to your advantage since you two still haven't told anyone.

Of course it gets to the point where you can only wear sweaters for so long. And the bigger your bump gets the more handsy Paul gets. Making it very noticeable to the pack.

Jared actually makes a joke about it one day, not expecting you to confirm it.

"Damn Y/N if I didn't know better, with how much Paul's around you I'd say you're pregnant." "Well..." "Shut the fuck up! Really?!"

Of course everyone is like family so they all want to congratulate you, and to see the bump. It also makes Paul uncomfortable having so many people around you at one time.

"Alright that's enough." "I didn't get my turn!" "And I don't really care."

Emily can't put into words how proud she is. She watched the man grow from a boy with temper issues and someone with out parent figures, to someone starting a family with the one person who loves him as much as he loves her. Everyone can say that Paul would definitely be a good dad. He's a huge family man, even though you technically don't have kids yet, he ended up letting you get a cat after you moved in with him. And the big ol softy said he didn't want one.

Now that everyone knows you go back to wearing your fitted shirts, something Paul didn't know he needed so much in his life.

Everyone knows 2000s r&b is your go to music station for anything that doesn't involve headphones. So when Paul comes home from patrol to you in your zone cleaning while singing and dancing he can't help the smile that quickly spreads as he leans against the doorframe watching you, knowing one day you'll be doing the exact same thing but instead of a baby in your belly, it'll be in your arms.

The one thing you love about having a baby daddy that doesn't wear shirts is you get to steal them all when you start getting too big for your own shirts, saving money on maternity clothes.

What Paul has found out is the bigger you get the more dresses you wear, and he loves seeing you in dresses pregnant or not. He couldn't understand why, since you don't really like wearing dresses until Emily tells him it's because you don't have to wear pants.

One thing he loves is watching the baby move. He'll run his finger along certain spots on your stomach and watch as a tiny hand or foot press back following the path he drew.

The baby seems to calm down when he talks, so he'll just talk about random things until you fall asleep knowing the baby moving too much was the reason you were still up.

He's been to every appointment. He's switched shifts with some of the pack to ensure he would be next to you in the doctors office.

The day he found out you were having a boy, he didn't know what to feel. Everyone bet on you guys having a girl, so he kind of had his hopes set on a girl, but he couldn't be happier either way.

"At least you won't be fighting off boys anytime soon." "If we ever have a daughter and she looks anything like you, I'm training to become an MMA fighter."

I wouldn't say his temper has gotten worse the closer you get to your due date, but your imprint bond has definitely strengthened making him more aggressive to the things you don't like. He has Spidey senses for when you're starting to get uncomfortable, and it's a huge lifesaver for when people want to touch your stomach.

"Is the baby kicking? Can I fee-" "I'd appreciate if you didn't" "I was just going to ask her if I could feel the babys kicks." "And I'd appreciate if you didn't touch my wife or child."

He's learned what your cravings are and that they happen randomly. So he started making trips to the store on his way home from patrol to pick up a certain bag of chips, or keeping a jar of pickles in the car for the rides home from the doctors.

"Mmm you know what sounds good right now?" "There's a new jar of Nutella in the pantry, and your pretzels are on the nightstand." "You didn't even open your eyes." "It's 2:30 in the morning. You've had the same craving every other night since little nugget started kicking."

You end up staying pregnant a couple weeks past your due date, so when you can't sleep Paul will dance with you to soft music in the living room. Even though he doesn't like dancing, he knows how uncomfortable you are carrying his son for forty-two weeks. At this point he's doing everything he can to keep you happy, even though the only thing you want is to get the kid out of you.

Just his luck you went into labor while he was on patrol. You were at Emily's, Paul refusing to leave you alone. It was just you Emily, Kim, Colin, and Brady. The two boys had no idea what was going on when you started groaning in pain. When your water broke they were frantic to get out of the house, being the only way to tell Paul his son was ready was for them to phase. When I say Emily sped her way to the hospital, oh she could've starred in fast and the furious.

You were groaning and covered in sweat by the time the pack arrived. Since you were no where near dilated enough to start pushing the pack was able to come into the room.

Of course what no one knew about being pregnant with a pack member, Emily and Sam still not having any kids. In labor your body heats up matching their temperatures.

After hours of groaning and death staring everyone who asked you a stupid question, the doctor kicks everyone out. Emily and Paul are the ones you keep in the room, they quickly put on the gown and hairnet before holding onto your hands as you push.

Soon you have tears going down your face as your son is put on your chest.

After everyone visits and head home, leaving behind balloons and flowers for you. You lay on your hospital bed next to Paul. No matter how small a bed is, Paul will always sleep next to you. You find it incredibly uncomfortable if Paul isn't next to you when you sleep.

You rest your head on a sleeping Paul's chest, as he holds your sleeping son on his other side. His and your entire world in one place.

#twilight #twilight imagine #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote #imprint

250 notes · View notes

nancydhooper · 3 years

Text

What It’s Like to Face a Deadly Pandemic Behind Bars

For incarcerated people, it can be impossible to prevent contracting COVID-19. Crowded quarters, limited access to hygiene, and inadequate medical care have made jails and prisons the sites of some of the worst outbreaks in the country. To date, more than 350,000 people have tested positive while incarcerated and 2,305 have died, in addition to 145 corrections staff. Some state and local governments have responded by authorizing the release of people who are elderly or immunocompromised. But there are still far too many people languishing in unsafe and inhumane facilities, sometimes not even able to communicate with loved ones.

Below, four formerly incarcerated people share their stories about what it’s like to be incarcerated during the pandemic, while friends and family members are often left helpless on the outside.

Ideare Bailey

Dallas, Texas

I started getting sick about a week after arriving at Dallas County Jail. I tried to get help from the infirmary but the nurses kept sending me back to the dorm without even taking my temperature. I couldn’t file a grievance either because I had no pen or paper. So I just kept going back to the clinic, and went about 15 times before they finally took my temperature and found out I had a 106-degree fever. But they still sent me back to my dorm even while I waited for my test results. A few days later, I tested positive for COVID-19 and they transferred me to the infirmary.

I thought I was going to die in there. They gave me no information about the virus or how to stop it from spreading. All I knew was that I was high risk because I have Type II diabetes, and they were not giving me enough insulin. If there was an emergency, I would have to bang on the windows to get a nurse’s attention. All I could do was try to keep breathing and pray to make it through.

During my time in the infirmary, I had no contact with my family. My wife was calling the jail over and over, but the staff wouldn’t let me use the phone. But I knew she was going to do whatever it takes, without me having to say anything. I’ve been with my wife for many years, and I feel blessed to have someone like her in my corner.

I ended up getting released because of my medical condition, but it took a while for them to finally let me out. When I finally got home, we sent our kids to stay with family while I recovered.

I feel like the jail could have done a lot more. Even though we’re in a confined space, with a bunch of people that maybe did wrong, you still have to treat people as humans. The jail started taking measures after they kept getting complaints from a bunch of sick people, but it was kind of late for that.

To people who are incarcerated right now, I would tell them to pray. Because at the end of the day, people are already looking at you as some kind of bad or evil person just because you’re incarcerated. So you have to help yourself. Try to keep something on your face, keep your distance. Pray.

Kivia Bailey

Before Ideare even went to jail, I remember us watching the news thinking ‘oh my God, jail is a bad place to be right now.’ Little did we know, seven days later that would be our reality when Ideare was incarcerated at Dallas County Jail. His incarceration was dangerous even before it began. I called him while he was in court for his intake, and I could hear people coughing all around him through the phone. I was panicking, but tried not to show it. I just told him to cover his face with his shirt.

Ideare and I kept in frequent contact for days, until one day I stopped hearing from him. I called the jail and found out they had taken him to the infirmary because he had tested positive for COVID-19. My husband never gets sick, even with his diabetes, so it was shocking when I finally got him on the phone and could barely recognize his voice. He was gasping, and barely had the strength to pick up the phone. At that moment, I was in the car with my kids. I didn’t want them to know about how horribly their dad was being treated, and how scared I was.

I did everything I could to get him out of jail. I hired a lawyer to seek bail reduction, but even that wasn’t enough, and I ended up having to sell my wedding ring to make a bail deposit. Even after all of that, it still took a while to get him out, because he needed an ankle monitor and none of the staff wanted to get near him to put it on because he was sick. All I wanted was to bring him home so wouldn’t die in jail.

The day I finally picked up Ideare from the Jail, he had lost so much weight he was unrecognizable. I just started crying. My God, he looked completely different. He looked like he was close to death.

You never think your family is going to go through something like this until it happens. It’s not like watching it on TV, when you might think ‘Oh, maybe it’s not so bad. Maybe they aren’t treating inmates like that for real.’ But when you actually see for yourself, it hits you. Incarcerated people are not being treated like human beings. No one should be treated that way.

Catrina Balderrama

Los Angeles, California

The staff at Century Regional Detention Facility (CRDF) didn’t know what to do with me when I tested positive for COVID-19 in April. I had only been there since mid-January and was among the first cases they knew about. I had a fever of 103.5 degrees, severe headaches, and was so sweaty I looked like I’d jumped in a pool. I was especially worried because I was pregnant at the time. I ended up having a miscarriage while I was in jail, and I believe the terrible conditions and treatment at CRDF caused it.

I started feeling sick about a week before they gave me a COVID test, even though I sent written and verbal requests days before. During that time, I was living in a unit with 200 other women, locked up in five by ten foot cells literally piled on top of each other. It’s so crowded in there that you’d be right next to a girl while she was using the toilet. We relied on the county to provide us with shelter and supplies, but there was never enough. You could go three days using just three sheets of toilet paper. Sometimes, you couldn’t find even half a bar of soap. The staff seemed like they didn’t care at all.

After I got sick, they sent me straight to the “hole,” a basement area where they keep people for disciplinary segregation. One of the guards told me I would die in there. They put me in a single person cell that was in disgusting condition, with old food under the bed and feces on the walls. I received only one paper mask, no soap, and they refused to give me my medicine, including an inhaler for my asthma. For days, I went without any meds or showers. I wasn’t allowed to contact my family or even check on my kids.

The jail staff seemed like they were trying to hide any information about COVID-19 from us. Anytime it came on the news, they would switch it off. They didn’t let the other inmates know I had tested positive because they didn’t want people to panic and bombard the mini clinic, which was already in bad shape even before the virus. The staff didn’t even tell me when I had a miscarriage. They knew I had lost the baby when they drew my blood for testing, and kept me on my prenatal diet without even telling me I wasn’t pregnant anymore. I have no doubt that their poor medical treatment and all the stress caused my miscarriage.

The treatment from staff was so dehumanizing. They bullied us and made us feel like scum. One time, an officer came and told me my release papers had come through and I was going home. When I got excited, she said, “April Fools,” and then, “See you later in hell when you die from COVID-19.” The other deputies outside my cell laughed about it. I was told I would die in the hole, and I believed it.

The worst part was that I was not able to contact my family. I had to ask one of the nurses to call them and let them know I was sick. I was really worried about my mom, who is in a coma. I am her conservator and I was afraid she might die and I’d never know.

I was finally released from jail on April 24, 2020. By that time, I had lost my home, kids, my job, my puppy — everything. I had lost a baby due to the staff’s negligence and I didn’t know whether I would ever be able to have another. Right now I am homeless. My daughter is living with my mother-in-law until I find a place to live. My son is in Ontario. My kids miss me and need me.

There is no justice whatsoever in our criminal justice system. People look at us like we are all bad people because we are in jail. I wish everybody would understand we are mothers, daughters, sisters. We are people.

Hendrey Boykins

Phoenix, Arizona

I was really scared when I went to jail in February 2020. I had just been diagnosed with tuberculosis, and I also have an irregular heartbeat and frequent high blood pressure, which makes me high-risk to COVID-19. I just wanted to get out alive.

I got sick immediately and repeatedly over the next few months. I had a dry cough, sore neck, and even spat up blood. But I was afraid to tell the staff about my symptoms because I knew they were throwing sick people in the hole. Other people in my pod felt the same way. Nobody wanted to die alone in the hole.

Because of my medical conditions, I was very careful about trying not to catch the virus even though it seemed impossible sometimes. Every pod has 15 cells, each with a triple bunk bed. There isn’t even a full arm’s length between mattresses. We shared a toilet, sink, table, and chair that rarely got cleaned. The entire pod shares two showers that get hosed down only once a week. Shared phones and railings hardly ever get cleaned. We were expected to take care of ourselves, but they never gave us the supplies we needed.

I did what I could to try to protect myself. Whenever I used the phone, I would put socks on my hands and tie plastic bags over them, or wrap the phone with my one dirty towel. They only gave us one paper mask. I wore mine every day even though it got dirty and smelled. A lot of other inmates didn’t wear theirs, and it was the same with staff. I tried to be safe and stay in my cell always, but my cellmates were leaving and coming back all the time. I was afraid that I would catch COVID-19 no matter how hard I tried to protect myself.

In July, I got sick again and so did many others in my housing unit. This time they tested us and put me in medical isolation at 4th Avenue Jail. I tested positive for COVID-19 and later learned that many people in my housing unit did too. When I was in medical isolation, the guards would not give me a blanket or a pillow, which made my headache worse. The medical staff would just take my temperature and not check anything else or would come and ask me questions through the door, but I couldn’t hear them. They didn’t care. They just walked away. I still had symptoms when they released me from medical isolation but the staff ignored it.

I was released from Maricopa County Jail in late July. Now I’m back home with my family and helping take care of my granddaughter so my daughter can go to school on a scholarship she won. We’re close, and we’re going to stay close through this pandemic.

Ximena

I fled to the U.S. from Mexico two decades ago after my husband was kidnapped for ransom and killed. I started a new life and ran a homeopathic pharmacy as I watched my three children grow up. But in 2019, I was arrested for illegal reentry during an unlawful traffic stop, and sent to CoreCivic detention center (CCA), where I spent many months in physical and emotional pain. I have several medical conditions, including diabetes, high blood pressure, and kidney cancer, and was not allowed cancer treatment.

We first heard about the coronavirus on TV, not from staff. Then people started getting sick. CCA made some changes, like stopping visitation, but they did not supply us with enough PPE and cleaning supplies. If anybody complained that they weren’t feeling well, the staff would just give us some aspirin or Tylenol, treating it like an allergy or flu. During that time, we were only allowed one shower every three days, and continued to live in crowded cells. I thought I would die from either COVID-19 or cancer. I had not received any cancer treatment since July of 2019, and my pain worsened. The medical staff did not help me, so I had to heat up a towel or sock in the microwave for relief, or sometimes some of the girls would give me painkillers. It was a hopeless situation. A lawyer was trying to get me out on bail or have someone vouch for me in court, but their requests were denied. The staff were trying to hide the dangers of COVID-19 from us, but we were not fooled.

I was deported at dawn on the day after my final court hearing. Since then, my life has changed 360 degrees. I lost the life I had built — my home, my business, my two daughters who are still there. It’s hard to start over at my age, especially with my illnesses. Sometimes I still don’t have the strength to live. The traumas I experienced in detention make me depressed, and some nights I can’t sleep. In detention, it’s like you’re not even a human being. Life goes by very slowly. You constantly feel as if you are at death’s door. You see people hanging themselves in their cells, or cutting their wrists. I used to cry every day, but now, it’s like I don’t have any tears left.

Hui de México a Estados Unidos hace veinte años, después de que a mi esposo lo secuestraran por dinero y lo mataran. Empecé una vida nueva, tuve una farmacia homeopática mientras criaba a mis tres hijos. Pero en el 2019, me arrestaron por haber reingresado al país ilegalmente, durante un control de tráfico ilegal y me enviaron al centro de detención CoreCivic (CCA), en el que pasé muchos meses de dolor físico y emocional. Tengo varias condiciones de salud, entre ellas diabetes, presión alta, cáncer del hígado y no me brindaron tratamiento para el cáncer.

Nos enteramos del coronavirus por la televisión, no por el personal de la detención. Luego la gente se empezó a enfermar. CCA implantó algunos cambios, como detener las visitas, pero no nos proveyeron suficiente equipo de protección (“PPE”) ni materiales de limpieza. Si alguien decía que no se sentía bien, el personal solamente nos daba aspirina o Tylenol, como si se tratara de una alergia o gripe. Solamente nos permitían bañarnos cada 3 días y continuamos viviendo en celdas llenas de gente. Pensaba que me iba a morir o de COVID-19 o de cáncer. No había recibido tratamiento para el cáncer desde julio de 2019, y mis dolores empeoraban. El personal médico no me ayudaba, así que tenía que calentar toallas o calcetas en el microondas para aliviar el dolor, o a veces algunas de las muchachas me conseguían analgésicos. Era una situación desesperanzadora. Un abogado estaba tratando de sacarme bajo fianza o que alguien me avalara en corte, pero las peticiones fueron denegadas. El personal trataba de escondernos los peligros del COVID-19, pero no nos lograron engañar.

Me deportaron al amanecer el día después de mi vista final en corte. Desde entonces, mi vida ha dado un cambio de 360 grados. Perdí la vida que había construido — mi hogar, mi negocio, a mis dos hijas que todavía están ahí. Es difícil volver a comenzar a mi edad, especialmente con mis enfermedades. Todavía a veces no tengo la fuerza para seguir viviendo. Los traumas que sufrí en la detención me deprimen y algunas noches no logro conciliar el sueño. Ingresada en la detención es como si ni siquiera fueses un ser humano. La vida pasa muy despacio. Ves cómo la gente se ahorca en sus celdas o se corta las venas. Solía llorar todos los días, pero ya no me quedan más lágrimas.

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8247012 https://www.aclu.org/news/smart-justice/what-its-like-to-face-a-deadly-pandemic-behind-bars via http://www.rssmix.com/

0 notes