The ‘what ifs’ and maybes are tearing me apart. I couldn’t turn off my brain and all it wanted to do was run through all the possible ways I might have avoided this from happening. If only I hadn't have been away from home for so long then maybe we could have caught this before it got this far.
If only, if only, if only!
At least they had a better idea of what they were dealing with now. Technically speaking, Em had suffered a stroke after a small clot had broken off in her stomach and travelled to her brain where it burst. Although the clot was only a small one, there was another much bigger clot sitting in her left temporal lobe, just waiting, like a ticking time bomb. Her body was so weak from the effects of the pregnancy that it had basically just begun to shut down. Until she had more strength surgery wasn’t an option.
With bean still inside of her, surgery wasn’t an option, but delivering the baby this early placed her in danger. They had wanted me to consent to delivering the baby tonight, to give Em the best chance of surviving. And of course I’d said yes because losing Em was not an option. They told me there was a good chance if the baby stayed inside I could lose her too, but that didn’t make me feel any less guilty. I almost felt as though I was trading the life of my baby for Em’s. I swung around and kicked the door with such force my toe began to throb. I couldn't lose her. I needed her too much.
I had to get back to her now. Fuck sleep, fuck everything. What if something happened and I wasn't there to be with her?
Walking into our bedroom I was bombarded with her scent. It was everywhere. Everything in this damn house reminded me of her. I grabbed a handful of items from her closet, as well as her iPod, her perfume and a few other things I knew she’d love and packed them into her overnight bag. Sitting down on the bed, I picked up a framed picture of us. We were hugging and smiling, both of us so happy. It had been the photo we had taken the night we’d gotten engaged. I studied her closely, tracing my finger over her face, her rosy cheeks and her stunning smile.
My phone buzzed interrupting my thoughts, I reached for it, instinctively expecting it to be the hospital with bad news. I sighed with relief when Claire's name lit up the screen.
“Hi.” I sighed, shutting off the lights and grabbing the bag as I headed for the car.
“Where are you?” Claire said, irritated. Shit. Fuck I had forgotten Maddie again.
“God, I’m so sorry,” I groaned, rubbing my face and feeling like the worst father in the world. “It’s Em.”
“What's happening? Is she okay?” Claire said, her voice full of worry.
“They don't know. She's stable at the moment. The first priority is getting our little girl out and then they can work on Em,” I said.
“A girl? Oh Simon!” Clair began to sob. “What happened?” she asked.
“She collapsed. I found her last night when I got home from work. They both have the best chance if the baby is delivered today. Em has a clot on her brain that they need to operate on when she’s strong enough.”
“I-I don’t even know what to say,” Claire stammered, crying. “She didn’t look great yesterday, I should’ve called an ambulance or something.”
“Claire, this isn’t your fault. Em was annoyed at me for asking you to check on her, that’s probably why she seemed off.” I said quietly. Claire was doing the same thing I’d done all night, questioned what she could’ve done to stop this.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed softly.
“She's a fighter, Claire. They both are. Do me a favor and don't tell Maddie yet?”
“I won't,” she promised, “call me if you need anything, okay?”
“I will, thanks Claire. Oh shit, Claire!” I almost yelled, trying to catch her attention, “Work. I fucking forgot to call my work.”
“I’ll handle it,” she promised.
“Thanks,” I sighed with relief.
Waiting impatiently, on the sidewalk for the cab, I tried calling Cass. I cursed as the busy signal played into my ear.
Come on Cass, get off the fucking phone.
Slipping my cell back into my pocket, I thought back to yesterday. Our argument played over and over in my mind. It would have taken her so much guts to bring up her feelings about Claire and me.
And what did I do? I shut her down.
I spied the cab, turning the corner into our street. Picking up the bag, I walked off the sidewalk and onto the road, kicking away a stray rock in my stride. The cab pulled to a halt long enough for me to jump in. Slamming the door closed, I directed the driver to take me to the hospital.
Five minutes and twenty-three seconds was all it took, so why the fuck did it feel like five hours?
Finally, the huge structure came into view. I threw a twenty at the driver, telling him to keep the change as we reached the entrance to the hospital. Reaching for my cell, I re-dialed Cass. The damn thing was still busy. How long can a person talk on the phone for? Apparently for Cass, the answer was hours.
Shit.