Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Making it to the other side of whatever this awful night brings.
twenty-six
. . .
Tuck
Worst Case Scenario
Maren squeezes my hand and whimpers, turning onto her side.
“Cramps,” she says. “They’re getting worse.”
Checking my watch—I’ve started to time the episodes, and we’re about eight minutes apart now—I squat beside the bed and rub her back. All the while, a single thought runs through my head.
I’m gonna to lose everything tonight.
The worst has happened to me before. No surprise that’s where my mind goes the second shit hits the fan. Zero to a hundred in one hour flat.
In the space of that hour, I went from sleeping next to the woman I love to thinking about what I’ll tell Katie when I come home alone tomorrow.
Maren is gone.
The baby is gone.
The family that is all I’ve ever wanted is gone. Not once, but twice.
It’s happening again.
Stop. Continuing to rub Maren’s back as the contractions pass, I tell myself to stop dwelling on the worst-case scenario. Chances are Maren is fine. The baby will be fine.
Everything will be fine.
Or maybe it won’t.
I squeeze Maren’s hand again. To let her know I’m here for her, yes. But also so she doesn’t realize I’m shaking.
She’s crying quietly on the bed. I’m worried I’ll say the wrong thing—I’m worried I’ll break down too—so I don’t say a word. Maren needs me to be strong right now. She needs to feel safe.
She ain’t gonna feel safe if I’m a mess.
So I just squeeze her hand. Let her know I’m here. All while trying, hard, to keep my thoughts from circling the drain.
I mentally recite the facts. Dr. Yelich prepared us for this. She said it happens to women with Maren’s condition. She said serious complications are very rare. Or did she say just rare? I don’t remember.
I do remember that the baby had all its parts and a strong heartbeat at our last appointment.
Maren is seized by another round of cramping when a man wearing glasses and a mild smile walks into the room.
“Evening, y’all. I understand we’re having some cramping and bleeding tonight?” He crosses to the sink and washes his hands. “Looks like the cramps are happening now, huh?”
Maren nods.
Swallowing the moon in my throat, I say, “Yes. Eight minutes apart. I think. I’ve been trying to keep track.”
“Good job, Dad. So, here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll give you a quick exam and perform an ultrasound so we can see what’s going on. Once we have that information, we’ll come up with a plan, okay?”
Not okay.
I am not fucking okay.
Somehow I manage to come up with a coherent question. “Is there anything you can give her for the pain?”
“No. Not yet, anyway. Let’s get this ultrasound done and go from there.”
The doctor quickly examines Maren. She’s not dilated, which is good. He says the bleeding looks minor—so far.
My heart thrums beneath my Adam’s apple as the doctor moves the wand over Maren’s belly for the ultrasound. The baby appears on the monitor. The sound of his or her heartbeat fills the room.
“Healthy heartbeat,” the doctor says. “No signs of distress that I can tell.”
Maren wipes her eyes. “That’s a relief.”
“I still want to keep you overnight for observation.” The doctor strips off his latex gloves. “With placenta previa, we worry these smaller bleeds can lead to a big bleed, in which case we’ll need to deliver the baby immediately.”
A big bleed, otherwise known as a hemorrhage. I’ve read about this. If not addressed within minutes of it happening, both mother and baby can die.
My stomach plunges into a bucket of ice water. “Can a twenty-five-week-old baby survive?” I ask.
I give the doctor credit. He looks me straight in the eye when he replies, “Yes. I’d put chances of survival right at fifty percent.”
Fifty percent. A flip of a coin.
Tears stream from Maren’s eyes. Normally I’d wipe them away. But I’m shaking so badly I don’t want to touch her.
I love this woman so much it hurts. The thought of losing her—watching her bleed out because of something I did—
My heart slams into a wall of grief. I know this feeling. Very well.
And in response, I feel my guard going back up. I’m terrified, so I’m doing what I always do: I prepare for the worst by putting up my best defenses.
Because now that I’m faced with the very real possibility of losing the baby too, I realize how hard I’ve fallen for him or her. This pregnancy was unexpected. I freaked out when Maren told me about it. I thought I didn’t want more children.
But then Maren changed my mind. She opened my eyes to the possibility of creating a new family together. One with two parents and a sibling for my daughter. I didn’t realize how invested I’d become in building that family until right now.