Avenging Us (Rocker Series Book 3) (12 page)

“Get some rest, Ms. Mastro…this could go on for hours.” She smiled, and wrote something on my chart.

“Hours? I hope you’re kidding,” I argued. She didn’t say another word, her smile sympathetic as she hung my chart at the end of my bed and left.

Abel spent the next thirty minutes on his cell phone. I couldn’t blame him, as the stark reality was that, for the moment anyway, there wasn’t really much he could do for me.

“Where is everyone?”

“I told them to get something to eat. You heard the nurse…it’s going to be a while,” he said, pulling the recliner across the room to my bedside. He grabbed my swollen hand and held it to his face. He looked rough. His hair a perfect mess, unshaved, and exhausted—no doubt from his nerves.

“You should have gone, too. Go get something for yourself. You must be starved.” Hell, I was starved, but they already said no food.

“I can wait. Besides, I’m not really hungry right now.” He spoke softly, but I could see worry marring his face. He wouldn’t eat or drink until he knew the baby and I were okay.

A few hours passed. However, the contractions were coming steadily now. The next contraction came over my body and my mind. They said I was moving into active labor. An alarm rang and the room filled with nurses. I tried not to surrender to the pain…rise above it, but it was no use.

“Something is wrong. I can feel it,” I screamed. “Get this baby out of me now.” I lunged forward, holding the railing alongside my side. I couldn’t handle these contractions at this level. Subconsciously, I wasn’t going any further. I was not only sacred, I was exhausted.

Abel held a cool cloth to my head as I watched the room spin. “What going on? Is this normal?”

I didn’t hear the answer, but felt two fingers entering me harshly. “Turn her on her side,” someone in the room yelled. Latex hands gently rolled me onto my side and a pillow tucked under my stomach.

“Sometimes it happens,” the nurse answered.

“Sometimes what happens?” His voice was alert and concerned. “Where is her doctor?”

Another nurse answered, filling a long syringe, “On his way. The cord must be around the baby’s neck. With every contraction, it cuts off oxygen, causing the fetus to be in distress.

“Wait. What?” His fingers ran roughly through his hair, trying to make sense of the words he was hearing. “So stop the contractions!” he yelled.

“We’re trying.” She held a syringe to my IV and depressed until it was empty. “I’m also giving her something to relax her. It won’t do the baby any good if her heart rate isn’t steady.”

Abel looked to the monitor, fisting his hands. I wanted to reach out and comfort him. His glistening, loving eyes held steady on mine. However, a warming sensation traveled up though my veins and spread throughout my body, and then there was peace.

And darkness.

I was more than worried about Gia and the delivery. And very concerned with Gia’s state of mind. Above all, she was more important to me than anything. Once the doctor entered the room, I grabbed Gia’s hand, squeezing it and trying like hell to give her the strength I knew she needed. Whatever they gave her, she was barely awake and out of it. Dr. Mills slipped on latex gloves and greeted me with a smile.
What the fuck is he smiling about?
I was scared to death.

The machine started beeping sending an alarm through me, and again, everyone sprang into action. “Let’s try turning her on her right side.” The doctor and two nurses carefully rolled her. “It’s a strong one.” The nurse grabbed the printout and handed it to the doctor while another nurse wheeled over the sonogram machine.

He nodded as he read it and looked to the prior contractions, handing it back to the nurse. “It’s too late for
External Cephelic
,” he explained, and I had no fucking clue what that was. The nurse pushed Gia’s hospital gown up, and the doctor squirted the gel liberally onto her stomach. He moved the wand right, left, up, and down. Then moved it down below her belly. The tech punched the keys as the doctor’s hand moved. “We have two problems,” he said, handing the instrument back to the tech. “The baby is breech, and it wasn’t last week. Which rarely happens, but it does happen. And two, the cord looks to be wrapped around twice. Which is a more usual occurrence.” His lips pulled into a grim line. “Bottom line, the baby needs to come out now.” He remained on Gia’s side and removed his gloves, giving verbal orders before jotting something down in her chart.

“What do you mean
now
?” My heart dropped out of my chest and to the floor.

“She’s been scheduled for a C-section July twentieth. We picked that date and hoped she wouldn’t go into labor sooner. However,
Mother Nature
had a different plan. I’ll have the OR prepped, and we’ll deliver the baby before any more complications.”

I nodded in agreement. No words came out of my mouth as they worked around her. One nurse grabbed the IV bag and held it high. Another locked and secured the bedrails. Before leaving, the doctor gave me a pat on my back, and all I wanted to do is stay with my beauty. Her eyes filled with tears. She squeezed my hand and promised it would be fine. However, I was always the one doing the reassuring…comforting, easing her mind. I felt uneasy, unsure, and out of control. The rug pulled out from under me, and I was free-falling into hell.

The nurses took Gia into the operating room to prep her for the surgery while I waited for what seemed like forever, but in actuality, was only about 20 minutes. My heart pounded and my breaths came out labored.

Cindy walked into the suite with a cup of Nitro-coffee and handed it to me. “Where’s G?” she asked, looking around the room. Her question started a nervous fluttering in my stomach, threatening to purge itself of its contents.

I sat in the chair next to the spot where Gia was, needing to collect myself. “They took her to the operating room to prep her for a C-section.”

She blinked a few times before realization hit. “She was going to get one anyway, right? She’s just doing it earlier.” A nurse walked in and handed me a pair of grey scrubs and a hair net.

I accepted them and stood, walking to the bathroom to change. “Yes, and no. The cord is around the baby’s neck causing the oxygen level and heart rate to drop.” Her eyes widened, and my own welled up. Saying the words out loud twisted my gut and broke my heart all at once. I swallowed the knot in my throat and closed the bathroom door. A shadow moved across the bottom of the door as Cindy leaned against it. I removed the scrubs, putting the pants on first.

“Everyone’s in the waiting room and Jake is picking your parents up from the airport. So they’ll be here shortly. I’m praying for you both, and I’m sure the baby and Gia will be fine. I’ll let them know,” she said and then the shadow was gone.

Prayer…has it come to that? I put my arms through the sleeves and over the pants. I turned the faucet on and splashed my face with some water, needing another minute to reflect.
Man, you look bad
. The tan I sported yesterday drained from my face. The man in the reflection was a ghost of emotions and thick scruff—a stranger. The man in the mirror had, in his short life, broken nearly all of the Ten Commandments, and it’s been a while since I’d felt so low. Fear usually drove me to drugs, and right now, I’d kill for a drink or a hit. I turned, leaning my forehead against the cold door. Despair clung to me, and emptiness filled my heart. And I prayed like hell Beauty would reward me and we’d share a new life together alongside our new son or daughter. I told myself:
This is exactly where you’re supposed to be. So be here, now. This pain is a gift, just as your happiness will be. Find the stillness in it. Listen. Have faith. Learn. Rise.

Become stronger than your struggle.

The nurse knocked on the bathroom door, asking if I was ready.
Was I?
Yes, you are!
I left, following her down the hallway and past the waiting room where my friends sat. Jake just walked in with my parents, who met me at the next door.

“Be strong, son…be strong for her and your baby. We’ll be here waiting.” He grabbed me, hugging me, and my mother wrapped her arms around both of us. And then she said, “I’m praying for the three of you.” I nodded and continued through another set of doors until finally walking into OR Two.

There must have been ten people in the operating room. I stopped short, staring at the sheet pulled across Beauty’s mid-section, my feet cemented into place. The lights were bright, and the sterile smell burned my nose. The team around her unwrapped the surgical instruments and placed them on the metal trays, the sounds echoing around me.

A cheery nurse tugged my arm, and explained what was going on. “I’m Gail, the head nurse. This is all normal procedure and we do a few of these a day. So it’s routine,” she said as I followed toward the table that Beauty was on. “She’s been given an epidural block, so she won’t feel any pain at all.” Then she pointed to the bag the hung below. “That’s the urinary catheter and IV,” she continued explaining, and I nodded, understanding it all so far. “And if you’d like to see the birth, you can peek around the drape. Your role is to keep your wife calm and offer support. She’s been asking for you,” she said, grabbing a chair and placing it beside Beauty.

A young man in green scrubs walked over, introducing himself. “I’m Dr. Nelson, the anesthesiologist.” He turned to address Gia. “If there’s anything you need or if you feel anything at all, let me know. At any given time, we can always put you under general anesthesia, but then he has to leave,” he explained and then directed his attention back to me. “She shouldn’t feel anything, so don’t worry; it’s perfectly safe for her and the baby.”

Dr. Mills leaned around the curtain. “We’re going to begin,” he said and disappeared again. Gia was shaking uncontrollably, and I thought her body was going to jump off the table.

“It’s just the anesthesia and cool temperature. Again, perfectly normal,” Dr. Nelson explained as he continued to monitor Gia’s heart rate.

I was too nervous to sit and pretend this was a casual experience, and I wasn’t about to lose my fucking mind. I turned and spoke to her for the first time in thirty minutes. She still looked out of it, but was trying her hardest to smile. “What can I do?” I asked, feeling so helpless.

“What you do best…be my rock,” she whispered, and the choking feeling squeezed my throat. I swallowed trying to breath past it. However, it continued to squeeze, squeeze…
squeeze
.

“Always, my love. We’ll get through this…I promise.” I leaned in to kiss her cheek.

The team was eager to start the surgery and the first incision was made. I winced and held in a gasp. Beauty’s hand squeezed mine, giving me what little comfort she had. An alarm sounded and I jumped in panic. It became evident how important removing the baby at that moment was.

Gia shrieked, and the surgical assistant asked, “Can you feel anything?” She shook her head but didn’t verbally answer. Tears rolled down both of her cheeks.

“She’s good,” the assistant said aloud, and then they continued.

She gasped for air and her head lolled to each side. “What’s going on?” I yelled. “She can’t breathe!” I continued as she continued to gasp frantically for air. The anesthesiologist said that this was a normal side effect from the epidural. She couldn’t take a deep breath, and now her breathes were tiny, rapid pants.

The nurse shouted to give her some Valium, and then turned, directing me to rub her arms…explaining how important touch was in a situation like this. This was something I knew about. The importance of stimulation. I rubbed her arms and cheeks, cooing endearments. And I prayed like hell.
Please, dear god
…

“Abel, there’s going to be some pulling. Hold her steady,” the doctor yelled beyond the sheet. I looked down at Beauty, and her eyes fluttered. I moved above her head with the anesthesiologist to her side. I held, and they pulled. Her body was tugged across the table.

Silence.

I waited…one eye on Beauty, and the other toward the fabric barrier. The doctor held the baby up and I leaned over the sheet. The baby appeared lifeless for a moment or two as they sucked the mucus from the tiny mouth and nose. I held my breath and watched while they rubbed my baby to stimulate it. I threw up a silent prayer.
Please let the baby be okay. Please
, I prayed. Slowly, a pink glow continued to grow along the baby’s skin. And then she uttered
her
first cry of protest.

My heart swelled and tears welled up in my eyes.

“Pressure’s dropping,” someone yelled across the small space.

“She’s hemorrhaging—badly.” The doctor called to his team and they sprang into action. “We need to get this bleeding under control. Get him out of here.”

“Hemorrhaging?” I looked down at Gia’s grey face, her hand lifeless in my hand. “I’m not leaving her. I can’t. I promised.” My breath caught in my chest and I couldn’t breathe. It hurt too much.

“Come with us, Mr. Gunner. We’re taking your daughter to the NICU, and you can hold her there,” the nurse said warmly, and offered me a peek at
my daughter’s
little swaddled body.

She was perfect, and her wide-opened eyes landed on mine. How could I choose? There was no choice. I had to stay for beauty…for me…for our daughter. I shook my head, trying to blink the tears free.