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“Hmm?” Her voice is sleepy, and her eyes remain shut. Dr. Fischer works with an intense demeanor between her legs. A new doctor assists.
“What’s happening?”
“She’s hemorrhaging. We need to take her into surgery immediately.”
I feel like someone’s eviscerated me, and my guts hang out in the open for all to see. “How grave is this?”
Dr. Fischer leaps from her chair, the bloodied gloves and gown socks me in the gut. The somber look in her eye tells me all I need to know. Cami must see it too because she gasps somewhere behind me. “It’s serious. In twenty years, I’ve seen this level of blood loss maybe five times.”
Before I can process that answer, the room swarms with people. An older man with a clipboard shakes Kiersten, and I shoulder my way over. I’m open my mouth to tell him to get his fucking hands off her when she cracks open her gorgeous blue eyes, blinking slowly at him. He holds out the clipboard and helps her grip the pen.
“I need you to sign these consent forms.”
Rage and fear course through me. This is all happening too fast. “Hey!” I snarl, causing the man to jump, and Kiersten to drop the pen. “She’s barely conscious. Let me read those.”
“I’m sorry, who are you?”
“I’m her husband,” I bark and yank the papers from his hand. I scan them over, and the terminology from my medical training kicks in.
A dilation and curettage procedure for possible retained placental parts.
Possible placental accreta…
Risk of hysterectomy…
Risk of death…
My baby is in the NICU with trouble breathing.
The woman I love is about to be rushed to emergency surgery with a risk of death.
The papers are taken from me, and I couldn’t tell you who signed them. The wheels unlock from the bed with an ominous bang, and within seconds, she’s wheeled past me and from the room. I lean down for a final press of my lips against her warm forehead as she clears by me, wondering if it’s the last time I’m going to feel her full of life.
I know all too well what it feels like to kiss the forehead of someone who’s recently died. To touch their cooling skin, never to be warmed again.
A hand lands heavily on my shoulder, squeezing tight, but I can’t bring myself to stop watching the spot Kiersten vacated. My last image of her nearly unconscious face replays through my head.
“What do you need?” Law asks with a mild shake in his own voice.
“I don’t know.” Mine cracks like an icicle breaking from a roof. I turn to him, witnessing his own eyes rimmed-red as a lone tear drips from mine. “I don’t fucking know what to do.”
“Hey.” He spins me to face him and grips both my shoulders tight. “You keep it together, you hear? She’s going to pull through this.”
“I’ve seen first-fucking-hand how easily that can change. In an instant!” I snap my fingers as the remaining thread holding me together unravels. “And our son is in the NICU struggling to breathe. What if I lose them both?”
Cami lets out a sob from behind Law, but he holds my attention with his steady gaze and calm presence.
“It’s not going to happen. I feel that one hundred percent they’re both gonna pull through.”
“You don’t know that!” I’m much less willing to be calm when my family is under attack by things I’m powerless to stop.
“I’ve lost a son.” His gravelly tone drops deeper. I’ve known him a year now, and even though Cami and I share a lot, this is news to me.
“Worst pain of my life, losing a child. Scar tissue grows, but the spot is never the same, you know?”
The fight begins to drain from me, and I nod.
“But I’m still here. And you’re still here. You know tragic loss as well as any of us. You also know you can’t think every situation is the same. The worst isn’t always going to happen.”
