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Savannah’s mother didn’t look happy at having her question ignored, that he’d been who the police officer had called, and, honestly, Charlie didn’t blame her.
He didn’t recall telling the nurse much of anything about himself, other than he was Savannah’s baby’s father, but maybe he had said more. Or maybe she’d done some research. She’d seen his name tag. A simple Internet search would have told her that much and more. As far as being acquainted with Savannah, he wasn’t sure how to label himself so he just nodded and asked Savannah’s mother’s question. “How is she?”
“Lucky to be alive and in recovery. Barring something unforeseen, I believe she’s out of the woods now that her bleed has been repaired. She was pretty banged up. Mostly deep bruising, as far as we can tell, except her peroneal artery was lacerated in her left leg. We’re not exactly sure what cut her, just that she had a significant puncture laceration. Fortunately, one of the accident witnesses was a firefighter and he got her free from the car, made a pressure bandage for her leg, and kept her legs elevated. He saved her life, but she still lost quite a bit of blood.”
“But she is going to be okay?” Had Charlie asked or her mother? He didn’t know. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Savannah was going to be all right.
Dr. Trenton nodded. “I have every reason to believe she is going to be fine. The surgical repair of the artery was a success. She’s off the ventilator the helicopter team put in to maintain an airway in case of internal injuries and she’s breathing just fine on her own. As far as we can tell, there aren’t any broken bones. I don’t expect any surgical complications. We’ll monitor her for a few days, just to be sure and to make sure there aren’t any unforeseen internal injuries.”
Charlie let that register, then asked what no one had mentioned, not even Savannah’s family. “The baby?”
The man met his gaze and gave him a somber look. “She hasn’t miscarried yet, but her body did sustain major trauma. Certainly, the baby is at risk.”
“She’s going to lose our baby?”
The surgeon sighed. “I wish I could tell you a definite no but, with the trauma to her body, a miscarriage is a real possibility. She had a few contractions earlier but they seem to have stopped now that her blood volume levels are normalized. A high risk obstetrician has been assigned to the case and will be overseeing her care once she’s transferred out of recovery. No doubt she’ll be able to give you much more information than what I know. What I can tell you is that Miss Carter’s ultrasound has showed the placenta is intact and, best we can tell, there aren’t any leaks. The baby’s heartbeat has remained strong and steady, but again, Miss Carter lost a lot of blood and had to have several pints infused. The neonatal unit is aware and on standby if she or the baby gets in distress. A team of doctors will be monitoring them both closely.”
Even with the hospital’s excellent neonatology unit, their baby wouldn’t survive at such an early stage of pregnancy. Savannah was only four months pregnant. Definitely, the hospital was equipped to handle early deliveries and had many successful cases of survival, but four months was too early. Way too early.
Charlie’s eyes prickled with moisture and he sank to one of the vinyl-covered chairs in the small waiting area.
“Thank God Savannah’s going to be all right,” her mother said, not commenting on the baby. “When can we see her?”
The surgeon nodded at her mother, then said, “It’ll be another fifteen or twenty minutes before she’ll be released from recovery, then she’ll be transferred to the high risk obstetric unit.” He met Charlie’s gaze. “Normally, you wouldn’t be able to see her until she was transferred onto the floor but, as a courtesy, Dr. Keele can see her before she’s transferred.”
Savannah’s mother grumbled, but didn’t say anything beyond.
Charlie closed his eyes. He would like to see Savannah.
Question was, would Savannah want him there?
If she didn’t, could he really blame her?
CHAPTER EIGHT
SAVANNAH HURT.
All over.
And inside.
She hurt there, too.
“Take a deep breath,” someone told her. The voice was kind, gentle, comforting almost, and sounded so far away.
“Savannah, you need to take a deep breath.”
The voice wasn’t as soft this time. There was more urgency to the tone. A beeping was sounding in the background that didn’t quite fit in Savannah’s fuzzy mind.
A deep breath. She could do that. She pulled air into her lungs then stopped at the excruciatin
g pain.
Maybe she couldn’t do that.
Why did it hurt to breathe?
“I know it hurts,” the voice empathized. “But you need to take some deep breaths and get your oxygen saturation higher. Dr. Trenton isn’t going to release you to be transferred to your room until you’re stable. Breathe.”
