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“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
I’m about to play it cool when the pain becomes even more intense, making me wail. He pulls out his phone and dials 911. When I begin to sob, he tells the dispatcher to forget it and hangs up before lifting me into his arms. He carries me down the stairs and puts me in the passenger seat of his truck.
The drive to the hospital is fast, but that’s probably because he’s completely ignoring the speed limit and running red lights. I’d be afraid of him crashing but I can’t focus on anything but the baby. What if something is wrong? What if I lose her? The thought makes me sick.
Caleb pulls up to the door of the emergency room and runs inside to get help. I curl into a ball in the seat, feeling like razor blades are carving out the inside of my stomach. A nurse opens the car door. Her and Caleb help lift me into the wheelchair. Everything is spinning and I find myself starting to black out from the pain.
They wheel me to a room in Labor and Delivery, and immediately start hooking me up to monitors and IVs. I can hear my heart pounding and it’s difficult to breathe. A doctor asks me my pain level, but all I can do is groan.
“Someone give her some morphine.”
“But doctor, the baby.”
He shakes his head. “Morphine is fine in extreme cases, as long as it’s limited. This woman is in immense pain and we won’t be able to find out anything from her until it subsides.”
The nurse nods and goes to retrieve the medication. I can just barely notice Caleb in the corner of the room, watching with a concerned look on his face and answering questions to the best of his ability.
“This is going to sting a little.” The doctor tells me, injecting lidocaine into my hand before removing the glass. I hiss at the pain, but it’s nothing compared to whatever is going on with the baby.
He stitches up my hand and covers it with a bandage just as the nurse comes back with a small syringe of morphine. She attaches it to my IV and slowly injects it into my bloodstream. Within seconds, my whole body feels warm and the pain starts to ease. I release from the tensed state I’ve been in since Caleb found me and take a deep breath. Still, I’m worried.
“The baby.” I murmur.
“Shh.” The doctor places his hand on mine. “Relax Mrs. Rivers. You’re in good hands.” He turns to address the nurse. “Get me an ultrasound machine in here, stat.”
My concern stays on my daughter. “Do you think she’s okay?”
He gives me a small smile and gestures toward the screen. “This top measurement right here, is her heart rate. It’s strong and steady.”
“What’s the bottom?”
“That’s measuring your contractions.”
My eyes widen. “Is that what this is? Contractions? I’m too early for that.”
He lifts my shirt and places his hands on my belly, feeling around. “It’s too soon to tell. The pain you were in had you very tightened up, so it was difficult to get a good reading.” As he reaches the top section of my belly, his expression changes, but he quickly masks it.
A few minutes later, the nurse comes in with a portable ultrasound machine. She wheels it over to the bed and the doctor thanks her. The gel is cool on my skin and soon my daughter appears on the screen. She looks the same as she always has, just bigger and more defined. I find comfort in the sight of her heart flickering.
The doctor’s eyes stay firmly focused on the screen, inspecting different areas of my stomach. When he reaches the top of my belly, he zooms in on something a
nd freezes the screen.
“It looks like you have a case of placental abruption.” He tells me.
“That sounds really scary.”
“It can be. It doesn’t seem too severe, and you’re not bleeding so that’s a good sign.” His tone is calm, but I can hear the underlying worry. “However, it’s not mild either, and the chances of it becoming worse are high.”
“What does that mean?”
He wipes the gel from my stomach and slides his chair closer to me. “It means you’re going to have this baby before you leave the hospital.”
My anxiety skyrockets immediately, causing the heart monitor they put on me to start going off. Caleb is at my side in an instant, trying to help me calm down, but all I can focus on is the doctor.
“Mrs. Rivers, I’m going to need you to relax. Your stress can actually make the situation much worse.”
I frown. “How am I supposed to relax? She’s only 33-weeks. Will she survive if she’s born now?”
