Chapter 10
"Something's wrong." It wasn't a question; the comment was stated flatly. Samuel had been watching the doctor's face as he did the ultrasound and could see the concern there.
"Just a concern." Blake tried a reassuring smile and failed completely.
"My husband is not being paranoid this time. Something is wrong." Eliza gripped Samuel's hand. "What is it?"
"The girl is underdeveloped, too much so for my liking. Would you excuse me for a minute?"
"No, dammit! Tell us what's going on!"
"I need to consult with my colleagues." Blake sighed at the ominous look on Samuel's face. His gaze switched to the anxious-looking woman on the examination bed. "We were trying to hold out for thirty-one weeks to give the babies enough time to develop, but I'm afraid we have to go in now."
Eliza felt fear slicing through her very pores and her grip tightened on her husband's hand. "Now? But I'm not ready. There's--"
"If we delay any longer, she might not survive. It's touch and go as it is."
"Oh God." She turned terrified eyes to Samuel. "No. Oh God, I cannot lose her. I cannot lose my daughter. I have the nursery ready, her clothes and everything. Samuel, I cannot lose her. Please--"
"Hush, baby." He hated to see the absolute panic on her beautiful face and would do anything to get rid of it.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took her face between his hands and forced his expression to be neutral for her sake.
"Look at me." When she did, he smiled. "You're a fighter.
That's one of the things I love about you.
You fight for what you believe in, and you believe in this.
Don't give up on our babies now. Our daughter will make it, do you know why? "
She shook her head and tried to keep the tears from spilling. "No. Why?"
"Simple." He caressed her cheeks. "Because her mother is the strongest person I know. You kick ass. Repeat after me: I can do this and our daughter is going to make it."
"I can't--"
"No." He shook his head firmly. "Stick to the script, darling. Now repeat what I just said."
"I can do this and our daughter is going to make it."
"Good, now say it like you mean it."
Lifting her chin, she took a deep breath and repeated it with more conviction.
"Great." Bending his head, he kissed her on the lips before turning to the doctor. "We're ready."
*****
"What's going on?" Samuel tried but could not manage to keep the alarm out of his voice.
"My babies -- what's wrong?" Eliza gripped his hands in hers so tight, he felt their bones rubbing.
"The three boys are out, but the girl -- she's tangled -- ah, here she is!" Dr. Forsythe, who was leading the team of doctors and nurses, handed the tiny baby quickly to a nurse. "Get them into the NICU stat!"
"Doctor--"
"What is it?"
"There's bleeding."
Tearing his eyes from the group of nurses handling his children, Samuel felt fear rushing through his body as he noticed that his wife had gone limp in his arms.
"Something's wrong with my wife!"
"She's hemorrhaging." The doctor told him grimly. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"I'm not--"
"Mr. Copeland, your wife is bleeding out and if we don't attend to her at once, she will die. Am I clear?"
Letting go of her, Samuel stepped back and watched in horror as they wheeled her from the room. The last thing he noticed, and what would stay in his mind for a very long time, was the blood staining the sheets. So much damn blood.
*****
"Son?"
He jumped slightly at the sound of his father's voice at his left shoulder and turned to see his parents standing there.
It seemed like hours instead of minutes that he had just stood outside the NICU staring in as the nurses fussed with his children.
He had handed them the card with the names, and they were attached to the see-through cots.
But it was the sight of his daughter, tubes attached to her tiny body, that was tearing him in two.
"When did you arrive?" he asked in a disinterested voice as he turned back to his vigilant study of his daughter.
"A few minutes ago. We tried to call you." His mother touched his arm lightly, trying to hide the alarm she felt at the sight of him. He looked drawn and pale, his expression hopeless.
"My phone was off. I should have called."
"And your wife?"
"Her name is Eliza!" He rounded on her so fiercely that she stepped back, one hand flying to her throat. "Say her name."
"Eliza." Marianne swallowed. "I didn't mean--"
"I apologize." His clenched hands struck the glass lightly.
"I'm on edge. It happens when I think that I might be losing my wife and baby girl.
She was bleeding, my wife. There was so much blood and she passed out.
" He closed his eyes briefly as if trying to get rid of the image.
"She made the ultimate sacrifice. I should have stopped her.
I shouldn't have agreed to this madness and now I might lose her.
And our daughter--" he gestured to the cot.
"Her lungs are severely underdeveloped. They say the next twenty-four hours will tell. "
"Your wife -- Eliza -- is strong." Stanley placed a hand on his shoulder, marveling at the rigidity of his muscles. He had a feeling his son was at a breaking point. "And I'm sure so is my granddaughter. We will be praying for their recovery. How long has Eliza been in surgery?"
"What?" Samuel blinked at him and shook his head.
"It seems like days. I should--" He was about to turn and walk away when Dr. Forsythe came hurrying towards them.
The expression on the man's face had his bowels turning to liquid.
He actually stumbled back and would have fallen if his father hadn't noticed and caught him.
"No. No. No," he whispered raggedly.
Realizing what the man was thinking, the doctor held up a hand. "She's out of surgery and in recovery."
"She's -- she's alive?" Samuel did not dare speak the word above a whisper in case he was mistaken.
"She is. I'm sorry you misinterpreted my expression. She lost a lot of blood, but we got to it just in time." He hesitated briefly, but they noticed.
"What else?" Samuel demanded.
Dr. Forsythe dragged off his skull cap. "There were some damages to her fallopian tubes. I'm afraid she won't be able to conceive again."
"But she's alive -- she will get well?" Samuel persisted.
"She will be out for the rest of the night, but yes, she will recover."
"I want to see her." He turned to his parents.
"Go," Stanley urged him.
"Yes, darling, go be with her." Marianne reached out to clasp his hands. "We'll stay with our grandchildren."
He did not need to be told twice. Turning on his heels, he hurried away.
He found her propped up on pillows, the sheets drawn up to her breasts. A nurse was adjusting her chart, smiled at him as he came into the room, and left immediately, closing the door behind her.
Pulling up a comfortable ladder-back chair with plump cushions, he sat and took her hand in his, linking their fingers.
"We need to talk." He began softly, his eyes on her face.
Her lashes made shadows on her cheeks and she looked so peaceful.
So much so that he frantically felt her wrist for a pulse to make sure she was still alive.
"No more getting your own way, no matter the consequences.
I allowed you to twist me around your little finger," his eyes dropped to her hand before looking back at her face.
"Or the way you use your smile to get around me.
It stops now. You gave me a scare." His voice thickened and he felt the unfamiliar tears pricking his lids.
"I thought I had lost you and our daughter.
" He shook his head and decided to leave that part off.
He wasn't sure she could hear him, but if there was a chance she could, he didn't want her to be in distress after all she had been through, and it was not over, not by a long shot.
"You promised me that this would turn out all right and you lied, darling.
" Lifting their joined hands, he rubbed the back of hers against his hair-roughened cheek.
"I cannot lose you; that's not something I'm prepared for.
So, no more sweet-talking me into doing anything else.
I shouldn't have listened to you. Damn you, Eliza, do you not know how much I love you?
That's the same thing I was running from when I first met you.
You stirred up so much inside me that I knew from the very beginning you were going to be trouble.
You're my bloody life; don't you get that?
And I cannot live without you. I won't. So, no more twisting me around your little finger -- it's not going to work. Not anymore."
*****
The first thing she noticed when she opened her eyes was the searing pain in her abdomen. The second was that it was dark and her hand was being held captive.
Turning her head took a small amount of effort, but when she managed to get rid of some of the fog from her brain, she realized that her husband was asleep in the chair and holding her hand. Then it all came rushing back. Her babies!
She must have made a sound, because he jerked to awareness, his eyes flying open.
"You're awake." His voice was rusty from sleep, but there was joy and relief in the sentence.
"My babies," she whispered. "And why am I hurting?"
He addressed the second question first. "Where are you hurting?"
"My belly." She tried to sit up and had to sink back down, a gasp escaping her.
"You had surgery and you had a C-section, remember? Let me call the doctors--"
"My babies. I want to see them."
"First things first -- let's see about that pain." He was about to push the call button when the doctor came walking in.
"You're awake."
"She's in pain." Samuel told him abruptly.
"Let's see what we can do about that." Dr. Forsythe signaled to the nurse who came in behind him and issued instructions.
"My babies."
"They're holding their own. Your daughter is still at a critical stage, but we're hoping for the best."