I felt myself becoming woozy as my legs were spread.
“Ma’am, I’m going to check your dilation and try to figure out the source of the bleeding. If this hurts, you let me know.”
I nodded as I closed my eyes and braced myself for the intrusion.
It didn’t hurt, but it sure as hell was uncomfortable. Bryan was kissing my sweating forehead as the doctor’s fingers slid within me. I grimaced at the sensation, embarrassed that
some random guy was down there fingering around. Bryan put his face up toward mine, blocking my sight as he smiled down at me.
“Whatever happens, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
“I can’t—my back.”
“I know your back hurts,” he said.
“No. Shut up. It does. The contractions aren’t—”
“She’s trying to tell you she doesn’t feel her contractions wrapping around to her abdomen,” the doctor said.
I felt relief spread through my legs as he removed his fingers.
“Is that a good thing?” Bryan asked. “Less pain for her?”
“No. It’s not. We need to get her to surgery now. Nurse Delacourt, prepare an OR. She’s prepped with both IVs, so we can get her tapped and get her ready within fifteen minutes. Clear me something out now,” the doctor said.
“Wait. What? Surgery? What’s going on? Bryan?”
“Hey, hey, hey. You let me handle this. All you need to do is stay calm and focus on bringing our son or daughter into this world, okay?” he asked.
“Bryan, what are they about to do? Holy shit, my back!”
“Doctor, what the hell’s going on?” Bryan asked.
“The danger with having a child so close behind chemotherapy treatment is that the body is too weak, and many times with heavy treatment, organs suffer. When you threw yourself on top of Mrs. McBride, you ruptured her uterus. It broke her water, and that’s why she’s bleeding. But if we don’t get her into surgery and get this child out of her so we can get the bleeding stopped, she’s going to bleed out,” the doctor said.
“Oh my gosh,” I said breathlessly.
“I-I did what?” Bryan asked.
“The OR’s ready for you, doctor,” the nurse said.
“Bryan, you’re about to be a father. Follow Nurse Delacourt, and she’ll help you scrub in. We’re going to take Mrs. McBride to the OR and get her a spinal tap. You’ll come in, be there for the birth of your child, and then we’re going to save her life. Sound like a plan?”
I looked over at Bryan and watched him nod, but I could see how pale he was.
“Bryan,” I said. “Bryan, look at me.”
His dazed stare turned down to me as they began wheeling me out of the room.
“This isn’t your fault. Do you hear me? It’s not your fault!”
It was becoming harder and harder to keep my eyes open. They wheeled me into a cold room before they sat me up on the edge of my bed. The anesthesiologist wiped my back down with something cold, numbed me up, and then shot me up with something that numbed me from the neck down. It felt like I wasn’t breathing, even though I knew I was, and then they laid me back onto a table with a curtain poised at my chest.
And before I knew it, Bryan was at my side again.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “How are you feeling?”