Page 176 of Unspoken Words
Dr Webb wrapped the pressure cuff around my arm, pressed the button, and waited for the BP machine to take my reading. The cuff tightened but I didn’t flinch. I was used to it as much as I was used to brushing my teeth.
“Hm,” he murmured and unstrapped the cuff.
“Still low?” Connor asked.
“Yes.”
Connor handed me my cup of water, his way of saying ‘drink’. “What does that mean?”
“It means we might need to bring your Caesarean forward.”
“How much forward?”
“This week.”
“But that would mean she’s only thirty-one weeks gestation. That’s too soon.”
“Ellie…” He dragged a seat next to my bed and sat down. “I need you to understand that your heart can, and will, arrest if your BP isn’t stable. As your baby grows in these final weeks, so, too, does the pressure on your heart to pump more blood throughout your body. It’s just too risky for youandyour baby to allow that to happen.”
“I want to speak to Dr Goodman.”
“Of course you do.” Dr Webb stood up but rested his hand on my shoulder. “You’ve done so well, Ellie. You really have. But your heart is tiring, and if you let it tire too much, we can’t fix it, and then all that’s left is to get a new one. Hearts aren’t readily available. They take time when, more often than not, there is no time.”
“Christina is my priority, Dr Webb. If Dr Goodman says it’s safe, we’ll bring forward the Caesarean. If not, we’re waiting.”
He shot Connor a look I wish he hadn’t before leaving the room.
“Right,” I said, slowly rolling out of bed. “I’m going to take a shower. You should go home and rest and shower yourself—”
“Ellie.”
“And don’t forget those hotcakes.”
“ELLIE!”
I paused and turned to face him. “Yes?”
We both stared at each other, my hands on my hips, his jacket slung over his arm. He still looked as deliciously handsome as he had yesterday, even more so now that his hair was awry and slept on. He also looked partly broken and fragile, and it broke my already broken heart.
Sighing, I surrendered. I didn’t want to fight. I also contemplated requesting his help in the shower, but not to wash the parts of my body I could no longer reach. “Come here, husband.”
Connor laid the jacket on the bed and wrapped his arms around my waist.
“I will speak to Dr Goodman when she makes her rounds and then set a date for the Caesarean, okay?”
“Good.”
“In the meantime, go home and take a nap, because you’re gonna need your energy for when you get back here.”
A devilish expression delivered me his dimples. “Oh I am, am I?”
“Yes.” I stretched onto my tippy toes and gently ran my tongue over his bottom lip before kissing him. “I’m not as tired as I was last night.”
Connor groaned and deepened the kiss. “One hour,” he said, pulling away. “That’s all I’m taking.”
“Two,” I countered. “And I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Deal.” He took my hands in his, clicked his neck, let go of one hand, and picked up his jacket. “See you soon, wife.”
