Forty-Two
FORTY-TWO
Vaughan, Camille and I sit silently in the Dagen’s room, each of us with a hand resting on her. It’s like we need to feel her to know that she’s okay.
The doctors are keeping her sedated as they continue to evaluate and monitor her. They tell us she has a severe concussion but will do additional testing once she’s awake. For now, we wait for an obstetrician to come in and check on the baby.
We thought that the doctors treating her would tell us, but they just said that someone would be able to talk with us soon. I don’t understand why we have to talk to so many different doctors when they’re all in the same place and can relay messages. They really make it much more difficult than it needs to be.
“I wish they’d hurry already,” I mumble.
“I wish you would’ve taken better care of my daughter.”
“We’re not doing that, Vaughan. Hendrix told you it was an accident.” Camille’s eyes are both hard and soft at the same time.
“An accident that could have been avoided if you had kept your temper in check.”
“She was hit by a football that some asshole threw at her, Vaughan. Did you expect me to just sit there and shrug it off? Jesus Christ. Do you want me to protect her, or ignore her?”
“Stop it. Both of you.” Camille’s voice is terse and silences us.
We all go back to staring at Dagen, listening to the clock tick. It’s just before midnight. Malik told me that Vaughan and Camille were about halfway home when he called them. They turned around immediately and were running into the hospital an hour later. They found me in the waiting room, my head hanging between my shoulders and guilt sitting on my back.
A light knock on the door draws our attention and a new doctor comes walking in.
“Good evening. I’m Dr. Newman.” The woman walks in and we stand to greet her. “Are you the family of this young lady?”
“We are.” Camille reaches for Vaughan’s hand and I feel an instant emptiness.
“Is the baby okay?” I ask, not time for pleasantries.
“Are you the father?” The doctor asks and I nod my head.
“Those are her parents, so any information you have should be shared with all of us.”
She dips her chin and stands at the foot of Dagen’s bed. She opens a clipboard and reviews some papers
“I know you’ve been briefed on her condition, so I’ll talk to you about the baby. Dagen has suffered a placental abruption. That means that the placenta has separated from the uterine wall. When that occurs, it depletes the baby of oxygen and nutrients. It is something that is treatable in most cases.”
“What do you mean in most cases?” I ask her.
She breathes out and stones her face. “Because of the early stage of pregnancy she is in, the fetus was simply not strong enough to survive. I’m very sorry.”
Camille lets out a hard sob and Vaughan wraps her in his arms.
“Wait. Wait, just…are you saying that she–” The word gets clogged in my throat.
“Dagen has, unfortunately, suffered a miscarriage. She will be okay however, we will need to perform a D and C. Since she is still sedated, we will…”
The doctor's voice becomes muffled as the ringing in my head grows louder. I stare down at Dagen and think about how crushed her heart will be. This is all my fault. I’ve killed my baby and she’ll never forgive me.
I rise up from my chair and let my feet take me away. My name is called out but my body won’t let my mind take the wheel. Like a robot on autopilot, it moves without instruction.
I reach the lobby where Malik and Danté sit. They begin asking me what’s going on but like Camille and Vaughan, I can’t respond. Nothing stops me from running away from the pain.
I walk out of the hospital doors and let my feet take me away. My brothers chase after me but I hold up my hand, letting them know not to bother.
I continue down a sidewalk and reach for my phone in my back pocket, where I stuck it after Malik gave it back to me once the doctors kicked me to the waiting room.
Pulling up the Uber app I order a car, then sit on the sidewalk until it comes. When it drops me off at the hotel, I find my keys, jump into my car and just drive. Destination unknown. What is known is that I need to get as far away from the pain as possible.