Page 179 of Unspoken Words
“I bet her first word will be pizza.”
“It will. I have plans.”
Ellie yawned, her eyes slowly lowering.
“You want to have a nap?”
“No, not really. But, I am tired …”
“You feeling okay?”
“Yeah. I think so. It’s hard to tell nowadays.”
She stopped talking, and I found myself holding my breath, waiting and watching for her chest to rise and fall. It did, so I exhaled and carefully eased off the bed. I needed to get some air … and maybe, quietly, punch a wall or two.
*
When I got backtoEllie’s room, she was awake and writing in her notebook. It was the one she’d been writing in for the past few months. At first, I thought it was one of those pregnancy diaries, where women wrote about all the weird shit they craved eating and what parts of their body ached, and how much they vomited. But I was no longer convinced of that, because Ellie hadn’t experienced morning sickness, and she’d often put the pink fluffy notebook away when I entered the room. If it were a pregnancy diary, surely she wouldn’t be so secretive over it.
“There you are,” she said, laying it on the bed next to her thigh. “I was wondering where you went.”
“Coffee.” I held up two takeaway cups. “Decaf with three sugars, for you. And double shot with two sugars, for me.”
“Thanks.” She wrinkled her nose but accepted it.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just don’t feel the best. My tummy is a little queasy.”
“Have you eaten?”
“Just that piece of toast at breakfast.”
“You hardly even ate that.”
“I don’t feel hungry.”
“How about a juice? Do you want a juice?”
“Maybe.”
I shot out of the room toward kitchenette to pour her an apple juice, and by the time I returned, she was pale and rubbing her chest. Something was wrong.
“Ellie—”
“Call the nurse,” she said, her voice shallow.
I wrenched open the door and frantically searched the corridor, spotting Nurse Tracy. “Tracy. Come, quick! Something’s not right.”
Tracy hurried her steps and followed me into the room, and with one look at Ellie and her monitor, she hit an emergency button and the announcement ‘Code Blue, room eleven East Ward’ sounded.
“What’s going on?”
“Her heart is arresting again.” She placed an oxygen mask over Ellie’s face and laid her bed flat. “Ellie, stay calm. Breathe. You’re okay.” Tracy turned to another nurse who entered the room, pushing what looked like a defib machine on a cart. “Page Dr Webb and Dr Goodman. And call theatre. Tell them to prep for an emergency C.”
“My baby,” Ellie said, her words muffled through the mask.
“She’s fine but she needs to come out. Now.”
