This is Living (Living #1.5) (10 page)

My phone rings as I lay there waiting for the ambulance to arrive. It rings and rings and rings without stopping. I know I’m bring cruel for not answering it, but I don’t really care right now.

Mia finally says, “Chloe, you have to answer the phone. You can’t punish him because he didn’t make it here. He’s not the reason this has happened.”

With a sigh, I call him back and he sounds panicked. “Chloe, what the hell is going on?”

“Your baby is dead; it was a girl, and I’m about to be taken to the hospital to have a D&C. And you left me alone…again.”

I hang up the phone without hearing what he has to say and I cry again. I hate myself for being so cruel. I can’t believe I just did that. I need him to feel the pain I’m feeling. And now I can’t take it back. Just like 9 years ago, when I crushed him, once again only thinking of myself.

Mia doesn’t say anything and I turn on my side to face the wall. Without my noticing, she grabs my phone and walks out of the exam room.

A few minutes later, she walks back into the room, places her hand on my shoulder, and lays the phone next to me on the bed.

In a soft voice, she says, “I called Jayson back and explained everything. I told him there was no sense in him coming here when you are about to be there. He’s going to be waiting for you when you get there. He says he’s sorry…”

Before she can give me some reason why he wasn’t there, I say, “Stop, Mia. I don’t want to talk anymore.”

              Hearing my words, she leaves the room and I wait until the ambulance arrives.

A text comes through from Jayson’s number with a single word:

Jayson:
Sorry.

Chloe:
I know.

I text back with tears in my eyes.

The EMT’s come through the door at that point and help me onto the stretcher. Thankfully, Mia has given them all my information so I have to answer very few questions. Though it’s a short distance, they take my vitals for their report, and then leave me alone with my thoughts.

Once we reach the hospital, one of the medics opens the back doors and as they pull my stretcher out, I see Jayson waiting at the front of the ER. He looks like he’s been sucker punched.

When he sees it’s me, he runs to me and grabs my hand. Neither of us say a word and he moves aside to let them push me in through the ER ambulance entrance, while never letting go.

I see Tanya waiting for me. With tears in her eyes, she directs the medics to an ER room until either my patient room or the OR is ready…which ever one comes first. I’m transferred to an ER stretcher and then Tanya closes the door behind her leaving Jayson and I alone in our grief.

He walks to me cautiously and I curse myself for the hateful words I left on his voicemail.

It’s all too much and the sobs pour out of me shaking the bed as my body rocks back and forth. He pulls my upper body into his arms and tells me how sorry he is. And that it’s not my fault…and I cry harder…because it is. How many times did I say I was sick of being pregnant? The old saying flies through my head: Be careful what you wish for.

We aren’t together too long before Tanya comes in and says that Dr. Gibbs is here and is getting ready for me in the OR. She starts an IV on me and then we’re ready to go. Jayson pushes the head of the stretcher while she pulls the end of it and we go through a labyrinth of hallways.

I can feel it getting colder and I know I’m approaching the OR. I remember Jayson saying it’s freezing in there to keep the equipment germ free and functioning correctly.

They bring me into the OR holding area and a nurse approaches me along with Dr. Gibbs. I cry silently as he explains to Jayson what happened and what the procedure entails that he will perform on me.

It’s all going very quickly and I hold my stomach trying to memorize the feeling of my baby girl within me. A nurse re-explains the procedure and has me sign a consent form for the surgery and anesthesia. And that brings in the anesthesiologist. He explains what he will do during the surgery and offers to give me something to help me calm down.

I start to say no, but Jayson tells him yes. He injects something into my IV and I feel a floaty feeling all through my body. While this is happening to me, the OR nurse comes over with the tech and says it’s time for me to go back for the surgery.

Jayson leans over and kisses me and then buries his face in my neck. I hear him apologizing again and saying he loves me. I try to reply, but I’m too drugged. He stays there for a moment until the nurse reminds us that I have to take my wedding and engagement rings off.

Frantically, I shake my head no.  I can’t take them off. Maybe it’s irrational, but I feel like if I do, I will lose him, too. Turning away from me, I hear Jayson ask her to please let them stay on.

She looks away for a moment and then says to me, “I’m going to tape them to your finger. I’m not supposed to do this, but I will this once considering the circumstances.”

Jayson grabs my hand and kisses my rings. And then the next thing he does makes me glad I’m full of drugs. He leans down and kisses my stomach, then lays his forehead against it, and I can see his mouth moving. He’s saying goodbye to our baby girl.

T
he OR staff comes to get Chloe for her D&C and suddenly it’s all very real. My wife is about to go into surgery and my daughter is gone.

I lean over and kiss Chloe’s baby bump for the last time. Hoping no one can see what I’m doing, I lay my forehead against her stomach and talk to my angel.

I’ve been talking to Chloe’s stomach since I found out she was pregnant. With a heavy heart, I say goodbye even though I know she’s already gone.

“I’m going to miss talking to you. I love you, sweet girl.”

Lifting my head, I see Chloe watching me and from the tears in her eyes and the look on her face, I can tell she knows what I was doing. Not wanting to cause her any more pain, I stand up and nod at the techs waiting to take her to the OR.

Turning to one of them, I ask, “Can I walk with her to the entrance?”

They agree and I walk along side of them holding Chloe’s hand. I’m glad she’s drugged and it’s dulling her emotions; I don’t know if I could keep it together if she was fully cognizant of what’s about to happen.

We arrive at the operating room doors too soon and I lean down and kiss the love of my life. She reaches her hand up and strokes the side of my face and I place my hand over hers holding it there for a moment.

“I’ll be waiting for you when you wake up. I don’t want you to be afraid; everything will work out.”

She nods and I kiss her once more and before I can pull away, she tells me something that threatens to break my composure.

“She needs a name. They can’t take her from us without naming her first.”

One of the techs clears his throat and I give him a go to hell look. They can wait; if this will give Chloe peace of mind, I’m doing it.             

“Give us a minute. I know you’re on a schedule and if anyone says anything, I’ll take the blame.”

The female tech says, “We’ll wait over there. Please don’t take too long…I’m not trying to be insensitive, but we do need to get her back there.”

I nod and say, “Ok baby, we have to hurry. Do you have a name in mind?”

Her eyes flutter shut from the sedative and I’m about to tell the techs to go ahead.

In a small voice, she says, “I was thinking Bailey Lynn Reece.

“That’s a beautiful name.”

I don’t really know what else to say right now. When she doesn’t answer, I signal the waiting OR staff to go ahead.

Not wanting to let go, I lean down and kiss her one more time.

“I love you. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Her beautiful eyes open one more time, cloudy with the drug in her body, and she whispers it back.

“I love you, too.”

And then she’s gone. I slide down the wall to the floor and sit there for a moment. I feel like my world is ending as well as being the shittiest husband on the planet. Who leaves their pregnant wife alone to find out their baby is dead?

Putting my head in hands, I wonder why I can’t get it right with her anymore. It feels like we’re drifting apart and the more we try to hold on to each other, the bigger the gap widens.

I make a silent promise that I’m going to fix this…some way…somehow.

Time passes and I’m still sitting on the floor when a nurse comes by. Hoping she keeps walking, I keep my head buried when she taps me on the shoulder.

“Are you Dr. Reece?”

With an internal laugh at the title I’ve always wanted and am now coming to hate, I nod my head in the affirmative.

“I’ve been looking for you. Why don’t you come with me to the surgical waiting room? Dr. Gibbs just started and everything is going well.”

Moving back so I can stand up, she points me to the appropriate room with a large TV screen listing patients’ status and at what point the surgeon is at in the procedure. Chloe’s name, procedure type, and doctor’s name are listed along with the status: Procedure start time 12:12 pm, patient’s vitals are normal.

I breathe a sigh of relief that so far no other catastrophe has happened.

Not able to sit, I take out my phone…do I text or call? I know I have to let everyone know what is going on; it’s just hard actually saying it out loud and having to try to field questions I don’t know the answers to yet.

Next is deciding who is going to be the least excitable or should I say who is going to cry the least. That leaves out mom and Madison. I know I’m taking the coward’s way out, but right now it’s the only thing I can stomach.

Jayson:
Chloe lost the baby. She’s in surgery now. Can you call everyone? I can’t talk right now.

Feeling shitty that I made my brother think I can’t talk because I’m busy, I do the only thing I can do right now. I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes. All I need is a bit of time to make sense of what happened before everyone shows up.

Connor:
Yes, I will. I’m sorry. Let me know how she is when the surgery is over. Are you ok?

Jayson:
No, but I have to be. I’ll text you later. Thanks.

Once I hit send, I close my eyes again and try to shut off my brain. The next thing I’m aware of is someone tapping me on the shoulder. My eyes feel like they’re full of sand and it takes me a moment to clear my vision to see who my visitor is.

For a moment, I’m surprised and then I’m not at all. Looking into a face that mirrors my own, I say, “Hey, when did you get here?”

Connor smiles and says, “About 5 minutes ago. You started drooling so I thought I should wake you up. You don’t want your patients seeing you like that.”

His banter is so normal that it’s easy to forget why I’m actually here.

“Well, since a lot of my patients are little, they probably drool themselves and won’t care. Their parents might be a different story, so thanks.”

He sits next to me and we sit there in silence. Neither of us knowing what to say. I decide to give myself this one time to feel sorry for myself because once Chloe wakes up, it’s the one thing I don’t want her to see.

Since he is the one person that will never judge me, I blurt out the whole story or what I know of it. I don’t hold anything back including the part that I wasn’t there when she found out and the message she left me.

“She said she hated me,” I admit without looking at him. It’s easier to look away then to see what might be showing on his face. But, instead of accusations, I get a traditional Connor answer.

“I’ve heard that before. Actually, if I had a dollar for every time Madison has screamed it at me, I would be a billionaire and wouldn’t have to work again. In fact, if she goes too long without saying it, I start to think something is wrong. So I screw up on purpose, she yells it, then I fuck her and we’re good again. Wash, rinse, repeat”

All I can do is laugh. “You’re going to end up with a ton of kids with that philosophy.”

My heart lurches in my chest when I realize what I said. Closing my eyes again, I try to will away the tears trying to force their way out. When I finally get myself under control, I open my eyes to see him staring at me.

“You’ll have more kids, J. Neither of you caused this…it happens all the time to a lot of people.”

There seems to be something behind his words and right when I go to ask him, I see his eyes shutter and his face goes blank. I’m not going to ask him now, but I file it away…I know there is a story there.

“I hope she feels that way when she wakes up.”

“Why do you think she is going to feel any other way? Are you saying that she is going to blame you?”

Not wanting to answer his question, I hesitate for a few moments. How do you put your biggest fear into words?

“I wasn’t there…as usual. What if she was stressed out because of that and that’s what made the miscarriage happen?”

He stares at me with a “what the hell” look on his face before answering.

“What if it was her fault? Would you hold it against her?”

His question stops me cold. Would I hold it against her? I would like to think I wouldn’t although I am human. The more I think about it, the more pissed off I become. What could he be talking about? What could she have done to cause it?

“Why would you ask that? She wouldn’t do anything to cause this to happen…not on purpose, anyway. And if she did something accidentally, no way would I hold it over her head. I would have to be a first class SOB to do that.”

I hear the anger in my voice and I know he doesn’t deserve it…it was only a hypothetical question after all. Noticing my fists are clenched, I’m thinking I need to relax.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize. You need to look at it from another point of view though. She isn’t perfect. You have her on a pedestal…you’ve had her there since you laid eyes on her…and when she does something that is less than perfect, you get all shocked and shaken. You need to take her down off of that pedestal before she does something one day that knocks her down permanently in your eyes. You’re not perfect and neither is she. Not to mention your marriage or your job.”

Stopping to take a breath, he goes on, “She does the same thing with you. With your focus being on your job instead of her and the kids, the perfect husband she envisioned is gone. That’s what she hates…not you. You both need to accept that marriage is hard and it sucks sometimes. It’s only perfect in the movies. And if she does blame you for doing your job, then she’s being selfish and cruel.”

He stops abruptly and looks away and now I’m really getting a vibe that something is not right.

I wait until he looks back and ask, “Are you and Madison ok?”

That same blank look comes across his face and he waves me away. “We’re fine. I’m telling you what I’ve observed over time since y’all got together.”

Somehow I don’t think they’re fine at all, but I can see it’s not the time to force the issue. We stare at each other and I let it go…for now. As for what he said about me and Chloe, whether I want to admit it, it’s painfully true.

“You’re right. I do think she’s pretty perfect, but not like you’re thinking. I know she isn’t infallible…she can be selfish and what she said
was
cruel but I’m no saint either. I
have
put my job over her and the kids…”

I see his jaw clench and I know I just hit a nerve. Since he is obviously not in a sharing mood, I keep going.

“Although I know logically my job didn’t cause the miscarriage, it’s still easy to blame myself…just like she is going to come up with some reason that she caused the miscarriage. And yes, I’m guilty of wanting to make things perfect for her. She had a shitty life growing up along with the family from hell. So, when we got together I made a promise to myself that she would never feel that way again. And that is something I won’t apologize for doing.”

A dinging sound interrupts me and I look up to see the status on the monitor changing for Chloe: Surgeon closing. Patient vitals are normal.

I breathe a huge sigh of relief that everything went well. Now maybe I can breathe without feeling like an elephant is sitting on my chest.

Looking over at Connor, I see him hunched over staring at the floor. I decide I can’t keep quiet. If he can say what he’s thinking, I’m going to do the same.

“I know something is going on with you. You don’t normally get so psychoanalytical about things. Are you going to tell me what it is?”