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There it was. He had left her. How could he ever make her understand that he’d left for her own good, for their baby’s good? She hadn’t grown up in his house, hadn’t heard the fights, felt the blame, the guilt. No, Savannah’s parents had loved each other and her until the day her father had died. Her mother had continued to shower her with love every day since.
“Your mother is here.”
Her gaze shifted, looking for her.
“Not here in Recovery, but in the waiting area.”
Her cracked lips formed a semblance of an “O”.
“Your cousin drove your mother and aunt up.”
She stared at him but didn’t say anything, just took a few more deep breaths.
“They’re anxious to see you. Dr. Trenton says that once you are settled into a room he will let them visit.”
“Did I lose our baby?”
Did she not know? Had no one told her? Or had she just forgotten or thought they’d lied to keep her spirits up? Was she unaware of the baby heart monitor beeping just as it should?
Then again, she’d sustained trauma and could have been told a dozen times and still not recall at this stage in her recovery.
“The fetal monitor is real, the results are real. Our baby is hanging in there.”
She seemed to consider his comment a few minutes, then her worried gaze met his. “Am I going to miscarry?”
He didn’t want to have this conversation with her. Not now. Not ever.
“I don’t know, Savannah. I hope not.”
“Why? Why would you care one way or the other? You don’t want our baby.”
Her words stung. Stung deep.
“I never said that.”
“But you don’t.”
“I don’t want you to miscarry, Savannah.” Odd, as the best thing for her would be for her to be free of him completely. Yet he knew how much she wanted this baby. He’d seen it on her face in Chattanooga. He saw it now.
“They will do everything they can to keep you from miscarrying. If you do end up delivering, you couldn’t be at a better neonatal unit than at Vanderbilt to increase our baby’s chances of survival.”
“Too early,” she mouthed.
It was, but he wasn’t going to confirm her fears.
“Babies are surviving at earlier and earlier gestation.” Yes, they both knew the statistics weren’t great and that the risks of complications were high.
Savannah didn’t answer, just grunted, and closed her eyes.
Her alarm sounded again.
“Take a deep breath, Savannah.”
“No,” she countered but did so anyway, her sats immediately responding in a positive manner.
“Is there anything I can get you?” he asked, wishing there was something he could do to ease her pain and suffering. Wishing he could have somehow taken her place and be the one lying in the hospital bed instead of her.
“I don’t want anything from you.” It was the clearest sentence she’d said since he’d entered the recovery room area.
