Page 67 of Counting Backwards

As I started up the stairs from the underground terminal, people rushed past me, scurrying in every direction in typical New York style. Now that the first step in commencing this litigation was complete, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. The defendants would have thirty days to answer the complaint, and in the meantime, much of the case would simply be a waiting game. Vance and I weren’t due at his parents’ house on Long Island for a few more hours, and I thought maybe I should take the opportunity to do something frivolous and fun in the meantime—a quick break before sitting down again to strategize about next steps.

I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Dustin.

“Filed the complaint this AM. Wish us luck!”

I didn’t let myself overthink why I felt the need to reach out to him. Instead, I just smiled and tossed my phone back into my tote. But then I thought of Gram. Before anything else, I wanted to speak to her about her meeting with Carrie Buck.

As I reached the top of the escalator and stepped onto Seventh Avenue, I squinted my eyes against the bright sunshine and dug back into my bag. Walking uptown with my cell to my ear, I waited for Gram to pick up. As I listened to the phone ring for a third time, I felt a rush of wetness between my legs.

“No!” I yelped into the air. “No, no, no!” I hadn’t realized that I’d stopped walking until an older woman approached me from behind.

“Are you all right?” the woman asked. “You need help?”

I looked down to see if any fluid or blood was visible on my pants, but I saw nothing.

“No, no, thank you,” I said. I began scrolling frantically through my phone for Dr. LaRusso’s office number.

I hailed the first taxi I saw and told the driver the obstetrician’s address. The doctor’s office hadn’t answered yet. As it rang, I put the phone on speaker and texted Vance.

“I think I’m bleeding. Meet me at Dr. LaRusso’s? Oh God, Vance.”

Then I realized I was crying.

“You okay, miss?” The driver turned to glance at me from the front seat.

“Please, just hurry,” I answered. “I think I’m losing my baby.”

***

Two days later, I lay in bed staring at the wall. The light in the room had begun to dissipate, letting me know the sun was setting. I heard the apartment door slam shut, Vance returning from his office.

“You’re still here,” he said as he walked into the room. His top button was undone, and his tie hung open around his neck.

“Oh good, a joke,” I deadpanned.

The doctor had put me on immediate bed rest. Forty-eight hours earlier, an ultrasound had revealed that I had a condition called placenta previa, meaning the placenta was in the wrong place and was causing my bleeding. To protect the pregnancy, I would need to stay off my feet, preferably in bed, for most of every day.

“Chin up,” Vance said as he sat beside me on the bed. He pushed the hair out of my face and rested his hand against my forehead. Physically, I felt fine, though I probably looked awful, still clad in the t-shirt and sweats I’d thrown on the day before. My teeth and hair had gone unbrushed for more than twenty-four hours.

“The doctor said most of these cases resolve as the uterus grows,” Vance reminded me. “You’ll be out and about in no time.”

The doctor hadn’t seemed overly concerned, and Vance certainly wasn’t, but I couldn’t relax.

“And look, you’ve already gotten pregnant two times. If anything were to happen—”

I interrupted before he could utter the words.

“Don’t.”

“Well, we wouldn’t try right away, of course,” he began.

“No, never.”

He looked down at me with a confused expression, and I pushed myself higher on the bed, bunching the pillows behind me.

“All I’ve been doing is lying here, worrying about who I’m going to lose next. Gram, this baby, or you.” The way I’d felt during the cab ride to the doctor’s office, when I thought I was really losing the baby... I couldn’t go through anything like that again. I’d had plenty enough grief for an entire lifetime.

“Look,” he said. “I know I was on your ass to slow down, and you were right to tell the team you needed some time off. But Ialso don’t think the placement of the placenta inside your body has anything to do with how you’ve spent the last few months. You’ve been crushing it out there, Jess, and nothing about this situation”—he waved his hand over the bed—“has anything to do with your work.”