Bundle of Joy (26 page)

"Burkheit." Why lie? It was too important.

"How dare you," she said, her voice thin and strained, "especially after I told you not to."

His hackles went up at her words but he reminded himself these were extraordinary circumstances and swallowed down his annoyance. "Sorry you're mad," he said easily, "but I felt it was important."

Her expression wavered between anger, fear, and curiosity. "Wh-what did he say?"

"He thinks everything's fine. He wants you to rest and for me to call him again in two hours."

She nodded, eyes closing for an instant. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. I'm overtired."

He crossed the room and draped an arm about her shoulder. "Go back to bed for awhile," he suggested. "Maybe you can get some sleep."

"Will you come to bed, too?"

He nodded. "Sure."

#

Once back in bed she dozed fitfully, her breathing labored and shallow. Sleeping on her stomach had been impossible for months, and now so was sleeping on her side. She lay flat on her back, with her hands folded across her belly, and his heart ached at the distended swelling of her breasts and stomach. Her delicate skin was stretched taut, the veins in her breasts highly visible, and it looked as if it hurt simply to draw a breath.

Despite the coolness of the bedroom, beads of sweat formed on her brow and in the valley between her breasts. Gently he placed a hand against her belly and moved it in circles. The baby was quiet inside her womb; normally it kicked hard against Charlie's hand at the slightest pressure against Caroline's abdomen. Knife-blades of apprehension skidded along his spine.

Everything's okay,
he thought as he watched the clock tick away the one hundred twenty minutes until he called Dr. Burkheit again.
In a little while, things will be back to normal.

#

By late afternoon they both knew her days of being a textbook case were over. The pain had intensified from a subtle tugging to a deep ache at the mid-point of her back. Charlie spoke to Dr. Burkheit twice more and each time the obstetrician advised a cautious, watch-and-wait approach.

"It's worth your life out there," Burkheit said during their last conversation, referring to the vicious snowstorm that was buffeting the area. "I'd rather she stay put as long as she can. These are probably Braxton-Hicks contractions, a preparation for the real thing. I'm not worried but call me again in an hour."

Charlie couldn't settle down and concentrate on anything. He paced up and down the length of the living room like a caged tiger, trying to fight his fears with perpetual motion. Caroline spent most of the afternoon catnapping, awakening only to use the bathroom and force down some hot soup that Charlie'd prepared. She could no longer manage to keep up a brave front. Bravado had no place in the scheme of things any longer. Her face was pinched and drawn, her expression tense.

Around four o'clock she wandered into the kitchen where Charlie was beating holy hell out of some innocent eggs. "That's a full-fledged blizzard we're having out there, isn't it?" she asked.

Charlie glanced out the window as if he hadn't been cursing every inch of snow that fell. "Looks like it to me."

"What if--what will we do if the doctor needs to see me?"

Charlie muttered a curse as some egg yolk splashed onto the countertop. "Let Burkheit come here. He's not eight months pregnant."

"I don't think he makes house
calls."

"Then this could be a first." He put down his whisk and took a good look at her. "Are you telling me things have gotten worse?" His insides quaked like the bare trees against the storm outside.

"I was only wondering," she said, her voice thin. "Just in case." Turning she made to leave then grabbed the back of a chair for support. "Charles...something's happening." She looked down at her legs. "I'm wet all over."

"Your water's breaking." He struggled to remember what he'd heard about the occurrence. "Don't worry. I'll get some towels while you call the doctor."
It's happening. The baby's coming....

He turned to leave the room when something caught his eye. "Caroline." This time it was his own voice that sounded shaky. "Sit down."

She looked at him blankly. He rushed to her side and helped her onto a kitchen chair.

"Sit tight," he ordered. "I'll be right back."

"The towels," she said, closing her eyes. "Get the towels."

He ran to the bedroom and picked up the phone.

"Doctor," he said the minute Burkheit answered. "My wife is bleeding."

iii

Charlie drove Caroline to the hospital. His Chevy had four-wheel drive and under normal conditions he loved driving in snow. This, however, was anything but normal.

He'd carried her into the bathroom before they left and helped her fasten two sanitary napkins to her panties. She was bleeding heavily and a chill ran through him at the sight. He'd never seen so much blood before.
Don't let this happen,
he prayed as he bundled her up and put her in the truck.
God, if you can hear me, don't let me lose them.

Nothing seemed real or familiar as he drove to the hospital. He knew these roads like he knew his own name or social security number, but with everything blanketed with a thick layer of snow, he felt like he'd been abandoned in a strange town without a map. "Hold on," he told Caroline as they neared the hospital. "Burkheit's waiting for us. You're going to be fine."

"The baby," she whispered. "They have to save the baby...."

Her tears glistened in the reflected light from the street lamps. He wanted to brush those tears away, kiss her, and tell her nothing bad would happen but he couldn't. His hands gripped the wheel in a vise-lock and he didn't dare risk a break in concentration. The roads were slick with snow and ice and the visibility was just about zero. He couldn't think about the baby now. If he thought about the baby he'd never be able to meet his wife's eyes and tell her everything would be just fine.

#

Caroline's heart beat wildly as Charlie stopped the truck and ran around to the passenger's side to help her out. Two E. R. technicians skidded down a ramp with a stretcher and pushed Charlie out of the way.

"No!" Snowflakes fell into her eyes and mouth. "I want my husband."

"Be a good girl," said the female technician. "Hubby can follow right behind.
We have a Christmas Eve baby to see to"

"I'm here," said Charlie, reaching for Caroline's hand. "Nobody's going to get rid of me."

She clung to his hand with all the strength in her. Snow swirled about her head as they carried the stretcher up the ramp and into the warmth of the hospital. All the planning and practicing. The Lamaze classes and the endless nights of dreaming.

"It's not supposed to be like this," she said to Charlie as the admissions clerk entered their health care numbers into her computer.

"Oh, honey," said the clerk with a compassionate smile. "If I had a dollar for every first-time mother who said that, I'd be on the beach in Bermuda right now." She tapped a few more keys then pressed the PRINT button. "There is no normal when it comes to babies."

Charlie
knelt down on the floor next to the stretcher. Snowflakes glittered in his jet black hair and she remembered the first time she'd seen him, so big and strong, behind the counter at O'Rourke's. "I'm with you," he said, pressing kisses against her forehead and nose and lips. "I'm not going anywhere until you and the baby can come with me."

Dr. Burkheit, already in his surgeon's scrubs, burst through the double doors. His smile was broad but the expression in his eyes was grave and concerned. "Couldn't resist a drive in the snow, could you, Caroline?"

She struggled to summon up a grin. "You know me, Dr. Burkheit. Always living dangerously."
Too close to the bone,
she thought as her words floated in the air. She didn't want to live dangerously at all. She wanted to be back, safe and sound, in her home with their baby growing bigger and stronger with each day that passed.

"We're going to take a look at you in the examining room," Burkheit said in his easy manner. "I know it's tough, but try to relax and we'll have some answers very shortly."

He motioned for the technicians to wheel the stretcher bearing Caroline into the first examining room beyond the double doors. Charlie made to help but Burkheit shook his head. "You wait out here, Charlie. I'll get back to you in a few minutes."

"The hell with that," said Charlie. "I go wherever she goes."

Burkheit said something low, too low for Caroline to hear.

"What was that?" she asked. "What did he say, Charles?"

Charlie bent down and brushed another kiss against her forehead. "You know hospital regulations. They're worried about their insurance policies."

"You'll stay here," she asked, clutching his hand. "You won't go away."

"I promise."

Satisfied, she nodded and the technicians wheeled her through the double doors and into a cold and sterile examining room. A pleasant-faced nurse came in and introduced herself as Lisa. "It's freezing in here," Jenny said. "Don't you wish we had a fireplace?"

Caroline forced a chuckle. "Maybe we could roast some marshmallows."

Burkheit entered the room and she heard the snap-snap as he rolled on his rubber gloves. "Okay now, let's take a look and see where we stand."

She shivered as the nurse gently removed her clothing and draped her with a sheet.

"Bleeding's slowed down," the doctor said after a moment. "I see evidence of some clotting..." He pressed against her abdomen and she suppressed a moan. "That hurt?" She nodded, biting her lip. "And this?" She nodded again. He pressed a stethoscope to her abdomen.

"Can you hear the baby's heartbeat?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, then fell silent.

Her own heartbeat accelerated dangerously. "What is it? What's wrong? Doctor, please--"

The doctor pushed back from the table and stripped off his rubber gloves. "We're going to do an ultrasound, Caroline." The jovial smile had been replaced by grim seriousness. "I think we're dealing with a case of
placenta abruption."

"What does that mean? Is it dangerous? The baby--"

He rested a hand on her arm. "I'm not going to lie to you, Caroline. It's very dangerous, especially considering the blood you've already lost."

"I don't care about myself. Just tell me about the baby."

"I can't," he said. "Not yet."

Her mind raced like a runaway train as they took her back to the room where they'd administer the ultrasound test. This wasn't really happening...not the pain or the blood...not the gel-like substance on her belly...or the quiet concern of the technicians administering the test. Things like this didn't happen to her...not in the perfectly ordered life she'd created for herself...not after she'd worked so hard to make a success of everything she touched.

Oh God, Charlie,
she thought.
What on earth are we going to do?

#

Charlie had never felt so alone in his life. Caroline was somewhere beyond those swinging doors, maybe not more than fifty feet away from where he paced. She might as well have been on the moon, for all the good it did. He felt disconnected, rootless, terrified. As if everything he'd believed to be true in this world had suddenly been exposed as lies, lies, and more lies.

"First child?" asked the receptionist.

He nodded, unsure of his voice.

"These things happen," she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee from the electric coffeemaker on her desk. "Nature's way."

He wanted to fly across that desk and wrap the cord around her scrawny neck. Nature's way. This was his wife she was talking about, his child. Not some damn statistic found in a medical book. What the hell was taking them so long in there? Either she was in labor or she wasn't. He didn't know which to hope for.

The double doors swung open and Burkheit swept toward him.

"It's what I thought," the doctor said without preamble. "Placenta abruption."

Why the hell didn't doctors talk so you could understand them? "Meaning what?"

Burkheit explained that the placenta had separated from the uterus prior to the beginning of labor, thereby cutting the developing baby off from its oxygen and nourishment. "We don't know if it's a complete separation or not, but I have reason to believe it might be."

"Can you reattach it?"

He shook his head. "Caroline's losing too much blood."

And, of course, the unspoken words were that the baby was losing too much time.

"We could induce labor and let Caroline deliver vaginally, but I don't think that's in anyone's best interest."

"A Cesarean?"

"I think it's our only alternative."