Page 47 of Jeremy
“Wewere able to get her blood pressure under control for the moment. Are you thebaby’s father?” His serious tone worries me.
“Yes,is he in danger?”
“Atthe moment, they both are. High blood pressure isn’t uncommon in pregnantwomen, but hers is indicative of pre-eclampsia.”
Irun my hands through my hair. “I don’t know what that is. Can it be cured?”
“Thecure is to deliver the baby.”
Myskin turns to ice. “She’s only twenty-seven weeks along. Can he even survive?”
“Yes,and we’re going to do everything we can. He will go straight to our neonatalintensive care unit. At twenty-seven weeks, he may not be able to breathe onhis own or regulate his temperature. There will be complications to watch outfor.”
“Statistics.”I choke out the word. “Do you know his chances?”
“Ninetypercent of babies born at twenty-seven weeks survive. There are chances ofdevelopmental issues and other future problems, but they aren’t our main focusright now. After the delivery, we’ll be taking it one day at a time. We have togive him time to gain weight and strength.” His face softens. “We will do ourbest for your son and keep you updated on his progress.”
“DoesMelissa know?”
“Yes,she didn’t want to deliver. She was willing to risk her life for his, but sheunderstands now that isn’t the choice. We deliver or neither of them maysurvive.”
Ifeel Landon’s hand on my shoulder as I ask, “Where is she?”
“I’lltake you to her.”
Landonand Justus wait in a nearby waiting room while I’m lead to Melissa’s room. Shelooks so tiny in the bed, with monitors stuck all over her. It’s everything Ican do not to burst into tears, but I have to be strong for her.
“Jeremy,”she says, as soon as she sees me. I can hear the plea in that one word. Ittears me apart that I can’t do anything to change this horrible situation. I dothe only thing I can, and wrap her in my arms.
“I’mso sorry, Mel.”
“Thebaby, he might not make it. He could have underdeveloped lungs, or a weak heartor—”
“Shh.He’s going to be okay. He’s got you for a mother. He’s a fighter too.”
Wedon’t get much time before a nurse enters with a set of scrubs. “If you’reaccompanying her to the OR, you have to scrub up and wear these. Stay where thenurses put you or you’ll be removed, understand?”
“Iunderstand.”
Mel’sforehead is clammy under my lips when I kiss her and promise to see her in theoperating room.
I’mlead inside by the same nurse. Mel lies on her back, a sheet hanging across herchest blocking her view. Her arms are strapped down to the table, spread out ina T.
“Wow,I hope you can keep the outfit,” she says, giving me a weak smile.
“We’llplay doctor all you want, babe.” I take her lax hand. “How do you feel?”
“Likea gigantic lump. I’m numb from my chest down.”
Thenurse scoots a chair over to me. “You can sit here and hold her hand. Pleasedon’t get up or move. There will be a lot of people in here to care for her andthe baby after he’s delivered.”
“Iwon’t move.”
Isit as close to her as possible and stroke my fingers over the back of herhand. There’s no way I want to look over that sheet. I’m not usually botheredby blood, but I can’t bear to see them cut into her.
Anunwelcome image flashes through my mind of Frannie, covered in blood, in ahospital just like this one, and I blink it away. There’s only so much a mancan deal with at one time.
Ithappens unbelievably fast. While I continue to stroke her hand and comfort herthe best I can, she never takes her eyes from mine.
