"The three boys are out, but the girl -- she's tangled -- ah, here she is!" Dr. Forsythe, who was leading the team of doctors andnurses, handed the tiny baby quickly to a nurse. "Get them into the NICU stat!"
"Doctor--"
"What is it?"
"There's bleeding."
Tearing his eyes from the group of nurses handling his children, Samuel felt fear rushing through his body as he noticed that his wife had gone limp in his arms.
"Something's wrong with my wife!"
"She's hemorrhaging." The doctor told him grimly. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"I'm not--"
"Mr. Copeland, your wife is bleeding out and if we don't attend to her at once, she will die. Am I clear?"
Letting go of her, Samuel stepped back and watched in horror as they wheeled her from the room. The last thing he noticed, and what would stay in his mind for a very long time, was the blood staining the sheets. So much damn blood.
*****
"Son?"
He jumped slightly at the sound of his father's voice at his left shoulder and turned to see his parents standing there. It seemed like hours instead of minutes that he had just stood outside the NICU staring in as the nurses fussed with his children. He had handed them the card with the names, and they were attached to the see-through cots. But it was the sight of his daughter, tubes attached to her tiny body, that was tearing him in two.
"When did you arrive?" he asked in a disinterested voice as he turned back to his vigilant study of his daughter.
"A few minutes ago. We tried to call you." His mother touched his arm lightly, trying to hide the alarm she felt at the sight of him. He looked drawn and pale, his expression hopeless.
"My phone was off. I should have called."
"And your wife?"
"Her name is Eliza!" He rounded on her so fiercely that she stepped back, one hand flying to her throat. "Say her name."
"Eliza." Marianne swallowed. "I didn't mean--"
"I apologize." His clenched hands struck the glass lightly. "I'm on edge. It happens when I think that I might be losing my wife and baby girl. She was bleeding, my wife. There was so much blood and she passed out." He closed his eyes briefly as if trying to get rid of the image. "She made the ultimate sacrifice. I should have stopped her. I shouldn't have agreed to this madness and now I might lose her. And our daughter--" he gestured to the cot. "Her lungs are severely underdeveloped. They say the next twenty-four hours will tell."
"Your wife -- Eliza -- is strong." Stanley placed a hand on his shoulder, marveling at the rigidity of his muscles. He had a feeling his son was at a breaking point. "And I'm sure so is my granddaughter. We will be praying for their recovery. How long has Eliza been in surgery?"
"What?" Samuel blinked at him and shook his head. "It seems like days. I should--" He was about to turn and walk away when Dr. Forsythe came hurrying towards them. The expression on the man's face had his bowels turning to liquid. He actuallystumbled back and would have fallen if his father hadn't noticed and caught him.
"No. No. No," he whispered raggedly.
Realizing what the man was thinking, the doctor held up a hand. "She's out of surgery and in recovery."
"She's -- she's alive?" Samuel did not dare speak the word above a whisper in case he was mistaken.
"She is. I'm sorry you misinterpreted my expression. She lost a lot of blood, but we got to it just in time." He hesitated briefly, but they noticed.
"What else?" Samuel demanded.
Dr. Forsythe dragged off his skull cap. "There were some damages to her fallopian tubes. I'm afraid she won't be able to conceive again."
"But she's alive -- she will get well?" Samuel persisted.
"She will be out for the rest of the night, but yes, she will recover."
