Page 43 of Spike's Perdition
Gina moves the wand around, taking several different shots from different angles.
“Can you tell the sex?”
“If the baby cooperates, I can,” she replies. “Do you want to know now, or do I need to write it down and put it in an envelope for later?”
“Now, please.”
“Okay, let’s see if the baby is willing to flash us.”
I laugh as she fiddles around. My eyes seek out the screen. The baby’s heart flutters, and one of the arms moves. I glance at the tech to ask her if she can see the gender yet. Her smile is replaced with a frown, and her eyebrows furrow in concentration.
“Is everything okay?”
Her smile slips back into place, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’ll let Dr. Wilde tell you what the sex is.”
“Okay.” I sit up slowly and take notice that she never answered my question.
Gina leads me to one of the open exam rooms. “Dr. Wilde will be right with you.”
She’s gone before I can respond.
That was weird. She’d tell me if I was having twins, right?
No, not possible. I only saw one.
Yeah, like you’re an expert.
I pace around the room while I wait for Dr. Wilde. It’s another twenty minutes when a soft knock startles me.
“Hi, Ivory,” Dr. Wilde greets and points to the chair next to the counter. “Have a seat. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
Dr. Wilde’s facial expression is the same as Gina’s. Her smile’s brittle, and her tone is too soft. It’s almost as if she’s approaching a wounded animal. Suddenly, I’m on edge. Anxiety creeps up my spine, goosebumps break out all over my arms, and I break out in a cold sweat.
“What’s going on?” I demand.
Dr. Wilde’s eyes soften as she sits next to me on her stool. “We found an abnormality during your ultrasound.”
“Meaning?” My voice is barely above a whisper.
“The baby has a diaphragmatic hernia.”
I grip the arms of the chair. “Omigod.”
I have no idea what that means, but it sounds bad. My breathing becomes shallow, and it’s almost impossible to suck air into my lungs.
“Ivory, I need you to calm down,” Dr. Wilde coaxes. “Deep breaths… in through your nose, out through your mouth.”
I follow her instructions until I can breathe normally again. Well, as normally as someone can when they’re told something is wrong with their baby.
“What does that mean?” I ask as soon as I can form words again. “Diaphra… whatever you said.”
“I won’t sugarcoat it for you.” Dr. Wilde spins the computer around and points to the ultrasounds. “Do you see that dark spot there?” I nod. “That’s the hernia. Now, it can be life-threatening, but we caught it. Now we know what we’ll face once the baby is born.”
“It’s treatable?”
“Yes. After he’s born, we’ll place an NG tube to feed him because he won’t be able to eat on his own, and we’ll also give him IV fluids. When he’s a few days old, we will operate to repair the hernia,” she explains. “He may need to be on a ventilator for a couple days after surgery, but we’ll wean him off of it and slowly introduce bottle feeding. Once we know he’s tolerating feeding and not having any issues going to the bathroom, he can be released. It’ll probably be at least a week in the NICU.”
“You’re sure he needs surgery?” My lip quivers. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
