Page 103 of Thorns That Bloom
I say nothing and walk to the other side of the room again, chewing at my bottom lip. My heart might actually explode if I stop moving.
Where are the doctors? They said they would be back with the results soon.
What if he starts bleeding again? What if something bad happens?
Sam lets out another sigh. “Theo…”
Before I can turn to him, the door opens. I halt, fixated on the doctor with a tablet in her hand.Finally.
“Mr. Snyder, apologies for the wait,” she says, smiling at Sam calmly, as if nothing is happening.
“It’s okay. I’m not in any pain,” Sam responds to her, emphasizing every word of the second sentence, his eyesshifting pointedly toward me with a frown.
I wish I could calm down for his sake, I do. I was there to soothe him and drive him to the hospital, but once we got here and since they took him away to admit him, I haven’t been able to control this overwhelming panic taking over me. Every possible negative scenario rushes through my head, over and over again, and in the end, I know I am the one at fault.
“That is good. I’m Dr. Denver,” she tells me. Sam had already spoken to her when he was admitted, I think. “First off, let me assure you that neither Sam nor the baby are in any danger.” Relief hits me like a tidal wave, powerful enough to weaken my knees.
Succumbing to his indication for me to come closer, I move to rest against the side of Sam’s bed, holding his hand. He flashes me an ‘I told you’ expression, as if he wasn’t as panicked and worried just a few moments ago.
“Okay.”
She continues, looking down at her tablet. “The bleeding was caused by partial detachment of the placenta from the uterine wall. The condition is called Placental Edge Separation, and it’s not at all unusual in male omegas.”
“Is that serious?” I ask, trying not to sound too freaked out.
“In severe, rare cases. Sam’s is fairly mild, as we’ve concluded from the ultrasound we did earlier. We also checked the baby’s heart rate and well-being, and like I told Sam, she was essentially unaffected,” she says with a calming smile.
Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I nod and squeeze Sam’s hand. He looks much more relaxed, too.
“Usually, we’d send you home, with strict orders to rest and avoid any physical strain. But…considering your late stage ofpregnancy, you being a male, and the fact the separation is larger than we would like—not concerning or dangerous, only worthy of monitoring—I would like to recommend you stay in the hospital and possibly induce. Not right now; in a day or two, perhaps.”
I feel Sam tense up. “Oh?”
“Pregnancy of male omegas differs slightly from that of females, as you know. It is a few weeks shorter. You are already nearly thirty-six weeks,” she says, pausing only to double-check on the tablet, “which is an ideal time we like to reach. Waiting longer, and allowing the baby to grow larger, might be counterproductive and make labor more difficult. I always like to aim for a natural birth before choosing a Caesarean, which is needed in many post-term labors of male omegas. But if you wish to—”
“No,” Sam interrupts, looking at her firmly. “No, I want to do what you think is best. This…this is fine. As long as it’s beneficial for both of us.”
“It is. You’re in good health otherwise. It’s quite likely that once we start inducing, your body will take over and lead you into it smoothly. All the positive markers are there.”
I gently brush Sam’s hand with my thumb, realizing he might be nervous about the finality of it all. He thought he had more time. I did, too. Or rather, I didn’t even think about how close he was to this massive change. No wonder, with all the chaos happening lately. But now everything is okay, and he can go through labor with a little more peace knowing that.
“Can you please tell him it’s not his fault this happened?” Sam blurts out with a slightly pinched expression on his face.
Dr. Denver laughs lightly.
“You said at admission that you were engaging in a…”
“He was fingering me. No penetration,” Sam says matter-of-factly, making my cheeks burn. Maybe Iama lot more immature than he is.
What did he say? That I have a ‘young spirit’? She might be a doctor and a professional, but it still makes me feel like a naughty kid, talking about that sort of thing in front of her.
“Ah, yes. I can assure you that it couldn’t have caused the issue,” she announces confidently, giving me a tight-lipped smile. “It was most likely due to a slight excess of amniotic fluid. It increased the pressure in the uterus and the subsequent separation. Again, the degree of the excess wasn’t too concerning, though itissomething worthy of monitoring in advance with any possible future pregnancies.”
Sam turns his head to me, a crooked smile on his face. “Told you.”
“Okay. You were right.” If I could sink through the floor right now, I would.
“Thank you, doctor,” Sam says.
