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It was all so fast.
My phone was ringing in my pocket, and I had to get a handle on myself and force myself to answer.
“Joey.” That was Trish. “What’s happening? Is she okay? Did she have the baby?”
“I, ah, yeah, she’s okay,” I croaked out, still completely reeling from the way it had all gone down. “The baby got stuck. They had to bring her down to the theater to deliver.”
“She had a cesarean?”
“No.” I shook my head, feeling rattled. “They got him out before that.”
But the things they had to do to her.
The blood.
The pain on her face.
I flinched at the memory.
“Him?” Trish’s voice hitched. “It’s a boy?”
“Yeah.” I exhaled a ragged breath, nodding vigorously as I tried to get my head around the life-changing events that had just taken place. “He’s huge, Trish. They told me he was 56 centimeters long and he weighs like 4.4 kilos.”
“What’s that in pounds and ounces?”
“9lbs 12oz according to the midwife.”
“Oh Jesus, the poor girl.”
“Yeah, I know.” I flinched again. “What time is it?”
“It’s half past three in the morning,” she replied. “What time was the baby born?”
“A little over an hour ago,” I replied. “Just after twenty past two.”
“Where are you now? Are you with Aoife? Can you put her on the phone?”
“No, I, ah…” I swallowed nervously and pressed the heel of my hand to my head, fighting down the panic trying to claw its way out of me. “She was, ah, she was hemorrhaging, and they couldn’t find the source of the bleeding. I heard them say something about a possible uterine rupture.” Blowing out a pained breath, I strangled out, “She’s still in theater.”
“No.” The cry that tore from my girlfriend’s mother’s throat put the fear of God inside of me. “Oh Jesus no. She’s in there alone?”
“They wouldn’t let me stay,” I strangled out, chest heaving, as the realization of how serious this was hit home. “I tried, Trish, but they put me out. Said I couldn’t be in there when she was under general anesthetic.”
“Oh, Joey love, don’t panic,” she choked out. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“Yeah.” I blinked back my tears. “Me too.”
PART 12
137
Mammy’s a Fighter
JOEY
After being put through the wringer, Molloy was wheeled into the recovery room ninety minutes later, hooked up to more wires and drips than I’d ever seen in my life.
When I was taken in to be with her, I felt faint.
