Page 75 of Beyond Oblivion

I smiled, feeling even more relaxed. “Aw. I used to hate it when he called me that. Now I love it.”

He chuckled. “I’m going to scrub up, and once you’re comfortable and asleep, we’ll get started. This is going to make things a lot easier for you moving forward. Any questions?”

I shook my head. “Not that I can think of.”

“Okay,” he said with a reassuring pat and nod. “I’ll be back in a bit. Let me know if that changes.”

I stared up at the sterile ceiling, the rhythmic beeping of the machines a mechanical lullaby. Conversations floated in the air—low but lively, the chatter of nurses and surgical techs punctuated by the shuffle of footsteps on a linoleum floor still sticky from a fresh wipe-down. I found myself longing for the nap that was just moments away, but an undercurrent of dread twisted in my stomach, anticipating the pain that awaited me when I woke—both physical and emotional.

In that heavy silence, I felt my unfulfilled dreams disappearing from reality. Every hope and prayer of sharing the news with Trenton, feeling the gentle flutter of our baby kicking inside me, growing too big for my clothes, the excitement and even chaos of labor and delivery—all of it hung suspended in that moment, and at the same time, was slipping away. I’d never see the absolute joy and pride light up Trenton’s face the first time he held our newborn child, and the grief of finality seared through me, knowing that chapter was about to close.

Sure, we had other options, paths we could explore, but this moment felt like an irrevocable ending. I couldn’t help but mourn what could have been, the loss settling in my chest, threatening to engulf me.

Dr. Dan stood above me with the oxygen mask in his hand. “You ready?” he asked.

I nodded, but just as I reached up to wipe away a tear that had escaped the outer corner of my eye, the double doors banged open and a woman screamed.

“Wait! No one move!”

The buzzing in the room faded for just a heartbeat, a pause that left everyone frozen before hushed conversations erupted. A flurry of movement surrounded the woman who’d barged in, their voices rising and falling in an urgent symphony of concern. I caught Dr. Ley’s voice weaving through the commotion, his words rapid and clipped but too low for me to grasp any meaning.

I strained to angle my head, desperate to catch a glimpse, but their mouths were all obscured by masks, making it impossible to decipher what they were so furiously discussing. The tension was palpable, a tightrope of anxiety strung between them, and my heart raced as I tried to interpret the frantic gestures and hurried exchanges.

Dr. Ley finally broke away from the group, putting one hand gently on my shoulder, the other pulling down his mask. “It seems… well, we’re not doing the surgery today, Camille.”

“What?” I asked, looking around at the multiple pairs of eyes staring at me, waiting for my reaction to whatever news they already knew. “Why not?”

“We’ve been waiting on your labs. They just came back, and,” he breathed out a laugh, shaking his head in stunned disbelief. “You’re pregnant.”

I blinked, unable to process what he said. “I’m… pregnant.”

“Congratulations,” he said with a smile.

“Congratulations, Cami!” Heather said.

“W-what?” I stammered, feeling dazed. Chuck helped me to sit up, and I swiveled to hang my legs over the edge of the bed. “I don’t understand. I—” I looked up at the IV bag, then down at my hand. “Is this okay? Do we…”

“It’s saline, it’s perfectly fine. You’re fine. You’re just…” he laughed again. “You’re having a baby, Camille.”

“I’m…” I looked down at my middle, touching my stomach through the hospital gown. “Oh my God. Oh my God!” I cried, my eyes filling with tears. “Can someone… can someone get my husband?”

Chuck wheeled the gurney next to me. “Let’s get you back to your room. Heather will get him from the waiting room, and you can meet him there where it’s more private.”

He helped me off the surgical bed, sitting me up for the ride back. As we left the surgical suite, the voices behind me erupted in excited chatter.

Down one hall, a turn, and then down the next, we soon arrived in a room, the bed turned down and ready for me. Chuck helped me move again, and as I settled in, another nurse arrived. She approached me with a wide grin, the warmth in her expression adding a glimmer of reassurance to counteract the panic and confusion.

Her chestnut-brown hair was pulled back into a neat braid that rested over one shoulder. Her hazel eyes were soft but alert, complementing the pastel-blue scrubs she wore, patterned with tiny yellow sunflowers that seemed to brighten the room. “Hi, Camille, I’m Andy. I’m just going to get you disconnected here,” she said, efficiently removing the IV from my hand and replacing it with a Band-Aid. “Is that better?”

“Yes, thank you.” I sat back once she raised the head of my bed. The world felt like it was moving in slow motion and racing by at the same time. Part of me wondered if Dr. Dan had already put me to sleep and I was dreaming.

The curtain was pulled back again, but this time, it was Trenton. He was wide-eyed, looking around. “Are you okay? They said the surgery isn’t happening today but wouldn’t tell me why. What’s going on?” Two deep lines formed between his brows as he sat next to me and took my hand in his, preparing for whatever I was about to tell him. “You’ve… you’ve been crying. What is it, baby?”

“The labs came back right before they put me under.” I tried to get out the words without sobbing.

“What? Is it bad?”

“No,” I squeaked, shaking my head.

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