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“She said she…she wanted all natural…you know?” I tried to explain. “That’s about as far from natural as you can get.”
The doctor looked from me to Julianne and then took a long, deep breath.
“Liam, if Tria doesn’t agree to a C-section, you’re going to have to sign a waiver for me.”
“A waiver?”
“Yes,” he said with a stern look. “If you are going to go against my recommendation, the hospital can’t be held liable if your wife and baby die.”
My mind and body froze, and I fought against the images that tried to force their way into my head. There were too many, too fast, and every one of the faces was Tria’s. I felt my throat close as I tried to take a breath, and I felt sweat beginning to gather at the back of my neck.
“No,” I whispered.
Mom’s arms were around my shoulders, and she held me a moment before pushing me back and looking me right in the eyes.
“We’ll go talk to her together,” she said. “It will all work out, but you have to listen, Liam. You have to do what the doctor says. I won’t let anything bad happen again—not as long as I’m here.”
As soon as the doctor told Tria, her eyes went wide, and she turned toward me.
“No,” she whispered. “That’s not right. That’s not the way it’s supposed to happen!”
“Tria, I think we have to—”
“No! I can do this!”
With burning eyes, I gripped her hand and refused to let go. I rested my other hand against the side of her face.
“Please, Tria,” I begged as hot tears started to run down my face. “If something happened to you…to the baby…God, Tria…I can’t…I can’t…”
She reached out and grabbed me, pulled me to her, and started sobbing.
“I didn’t want it to be this way!” she cried.
“I know,” I said against her neck. “I know baby, I know...I know…”
She sobbed. I sobbed. Though there were at least a half dozen other people in the room, they were completely invisible.
“It’s all about sacrifice,” I whispered. “Right? It’s not what we want anymore but what she needs.”
“Uh huh,” Tria blubbered.
“I love you,” I told her. “We have to do this…we have to.”
“I know,” she replied.
As soon as we agreed, Tria was quickly transferred to one of those rolling beds and hauled away as I tried not to let my heart tear straight out of my chest to follow her. Chelsea and Julianne tried to calm me as we headed down the hall to the surgery preparation area.
In a daze, I let them pull a blue gown up over my arms and tie it in the back. A matching hat made its way onto my head, and some foot coverings were put over my shoes. By the time they covered up my face with one of those paper masks, it all came crashing down on me.
None of it was going right—not at all.
This was dangerous—far, far more dangerous for Tria and the baby than just having a natural birth.
What if it the doctor made a mistake? What if something happened to the baby? What if…?
I was driving myself insane.
“She needs me,” I whispered to myself.
