“These things can happen,” the doctor said with a nod. “But what kind of exertion are you speaking of?”
“Exertion of the…sexual kind.” Dare could not believe he was feeling embarrassed to speak to the doctor about something as normal as sex between two married people.
“That shouldn’t be a problem as long as you’re careful,” the doctor replied. “Now if she had other kinds of exertion that’s a whole different matter. Did she do anything out of the ordinary? Lift anything heavy, perhaps?”
Dare’s heart gave a jolt. How could he have forgotten? “Yes,” he said as a feeling of guilt washed over him. “Me.”
“You?” The doctor looked at him as if he’d gone mad.
“I was knocked unconscious during the hurricane,” Dare told him. “She rolled me onto a bedcover and dragged me out of a bedroom and down a hallway.”
“Down a…” The look the doctor gave him was one of incredulity. “She didn’t.”
“I’m sorry to say, she did.” Dare’s voice was quiet, his thoughts far away. This was his fault. If anything happened to Erin or the baby he would never forgive himself. “And she didn’t complain of any pains at the time?”
“No, nothing.” Dare shook his head. “We even made love after that.”
The doctor let his breath out with a huff and Dare didn’t know if it was out of disbelief or disgust. He wouldn’t blame him for judging. He was disgusted with himself. What kind of husband was he to put his pregnant wife through all of that?
“She’s a strong woman, Mr. DeSouza,” the doctor said. “I can see it in her. And we will do all that we can for her and the baby.”
All that we can. He hadn’t said they’d be fine. He’d given no assurances. That was not what Dare wanted to hear.
When they got to the ultrasound room they wheeled Erin in and Dare went to follow but the doctor put up his hand. “I’m sorry but it’s very cramped in here. The technologist needs the limited space to work and I need to be there to see what’s going on. Could you wait over there, please?” He pointed to a row of chairs along a nearby wall.
Dare felt like throttling him. It must have shown on his face because the doctor backed away then quickly pushed the door shut. Dare slapped the wall with his open palm. He would have preferred to put his fists through the wall, he was so frustrated. He needed to be there for Erin. He needed to hold her hand, give her his strength, be her support. Suppose she called out for him? And he needed to see what was going on with his baby.
He walked over to the row of chairs but could not sit. Instead, he paced up and down and then stopped in front of the closed door then paced up and down some more. He looked at his watch. He couldn’t believe only three minutes had passed. He checked the time on his cell phone, not believing, but yes it was correct. Damn. How long would he have to wait? This waiting was driving him crazy.
He stepped away from the door and paced some more. He was on his sixth trip to the door when it popped open. Erin was back but this time on a stretcher and her eyes were full of tears. Dare went to her and as soon as she saw him the tears began to flow freely.
“The baby is in distress. He can’t survive inside me. They have to take him.” She began to sob and as she stretched out her hand to him Dare felt powerless. All he could do was take her in his arms and hold her while she cried. A tap on his shoulder jerked him out of his pain. He turned to see the doctor at his side.
“Please. We need to get to the operating room right away. Emergency C-section.”
Then before he could do more than plant a kiss on Erin’s forehead they were wheeling her away, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the corridor.
Then followed the worst two hours of Dare’s life. Other patients were wheeled in to the ultrasound room, other family members came until the chairs lining the walls were filled and still he paced, not caring if he looked like mad man, not giving a damn what they thought of him. He could not rest until he knew his family was safe.
So many thoughts flashed through his mind. What if the doctors had to choose between mother and child? What if he lost one of them? Or both? It didn’t bear thinking about. God knew, he would give all his money, every single penny to know that they were both all right.
And if this was what love meant, then he loved them, Godammit. He loved Erin DeSouza and he loved his baby and he was making no apologies for it. He just prayed they’d both make it through so that he could show them how much he loved them.
He was at the point when he felt he would go mad with worry when he saw the doctor in his green scrubs heading down the hallway toward him. He didn’t wait for him to get to him. He met him halfway, his eyes searching the doctor’s face, trying to read the news that was to come.
“They’re…okay?” His voice sounded strained even to his own ears. He could hardly speak. The anxiety was killing him.
The doctor sighed.
Dare almost had a heart attack. Jesus, a doctor sighing. That was not a good sign.
“They’re both resting,” he said with a small smile.
Dare let his breath out in a whoosh. They were alive. Both of them. That was a start. “Are they okay?” he asked again.
“Mommy is doing well,” the doctor said, “but it was a difficult surgery. Baby was in a lot of distress.”
Dare glared at the doctor. He was just inches from strangling the man. “What the hell does that mean? Is my baby okay or not?”
“Mr. DeSouza, please,” the doctor said, putting up a hand. “There are other people-”
“I don’t give a flying fig who else is here. Tell me what’s going on with my baby.”
“She’s been taken to the intensive care unit to be placed in an incubator. She’s only two pounds and needs to be placed in a protected environment.”
She? Hadn’t he heard ‘he’ somewhere? But it didn’t matter either way. He just wanted his baby to be alright.
“Will she survive, doctor?” He kept his voice low, guilty at his previous outburst but still too concerned to worry about an apology.
The doctor pursed his lips. “Her chances are better than fifty percent but I don’t want you to get your hopes up, just in case.”
Better than fifty percent. It wasn’t enough. He wanted to hear that she was perfectly fine, she’d be alright, she’d grow up and graduate from high school and give him all the grief that teenage girls gave their middle aged dads. That was what he wanted to hear.
But the doctor was giving him no such assurances so he clung to the only positive word he’d been given. Better. Better than fifty percent. He would hold on to ‘better’ and make it real.
“Can I see them now?” he asked.
The doctor nodded. “I’ll take you to your wife. She’s conscious but a bit groggy. You can see the baby afterwards.”
Dare nodded and followed him down the hallway. He was taken to a private room where Erin lay in the bed, pale and quiet, her eyes closed. He pulled up a chair beside her and gently touched her arm. Her eyes opened and he could see her trying to focus. “Dare,” she said, her voice weak and scratchy, “where’s my baby? Is he alright?”
“It’s a she, Erin,” he said. “We have a daughter. She’s in the ICU right now and they’re taking good care of her.”
“Is she going to be alright?” Erin’s eyes searched his face, looking for the same assurance he’d just sought from the doctor.
He took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “She’s very tiny, Erin. Only two pounds but if she’s anything like her mother she’ll pull through alright.”
“How?” Erin whispered. She looked up at him, her eyes full of distress. “How can she make it?”
“She will,” Dare said, his voice firm with conviction. In his heart he knew that his daughter would be alright. They both would. Leaning over he kissed Erin on the forehead. “Just rest for a while. I’m going to check on her.” Then he gave her a reassuring smile. “Start thinking of girl names till I get back.”
With that Dare left her and headed to the intensive care unit. The nurses there were welcoming but they refused to let him go into the nursery.
“The babies in this section are very delicate,” they told him. “Their immune systems aren’t developed yet. We have to make it as sterile an environment as possible.”
They took him to a wide glass window and it was from there that he got his first view of his daughter, so tiny and pink in her incubator, with a shock of dark brown hair that made him think of her mother. There were strings and tubes leading from her mouth, her nose and her arm and his heart ached at the little one’s cold and sterile introduction to the world. He should be able to hold his daughter close right now. She should be lying on the comfort of her mother’s breast. But she was all alone and so tiny. How would they even care for her?