Because You're Mine(50)

She tried to pray for the baby’s safety, but she hadn’t been on speaking terms with God since he’d taken Liam from her. Her heart was cold as a stone, and her prayers didn’t rise above the roof of the car.

Moments later, or so it seemed in her numbed state, they reached the hospital’s emergency entrance. For the second time in twenty-four hours, Barry ran through the doors and came out with a wheelchair. He helped her into it, then wheeled her inside where the sharp odor of antiseptic struck her. The pungent odor roused her from her stupor.

This was serious. Her baby might die.

She couldn’t bear it if she lost the last bit of Liam she still possessed. She tried to pray again, but she knew God wasn’t listening. Not with the anger she still harbored toward him. She barely listened as Barry related to the staff what had happened.

A nurse wheeled her back to an exam room. “I’m going to leave you in the chair to keep your ankle below your heart,” she said. “The doctor will be right in.” She put in an IV drip and adjusted it.

“I’m pregnant,” Alanna said. “Is this going to hurt my baby?”

The nurse paused for a moment in the doorway. “I’m sure you’ll both be fine.” Her eyes flickered away, and she closed the door behind her.

Alanna grabbed Barry’s hand. Her teeth began to chatter again. “I’m so scared. I can’t lose my baby.”

He knelt beside her and put her hand to his cheek. “It’s going to be all right. We’ll have more babies if something happens.”

She jerked her hand away. “I want this baby,” she shouted in his face. “It’s all I have left of Liam.” She had no energy to spare to soothe the hurt in his face. Such an insensitive comment. Did he have no compassion, no idea what this baby meant to her?

The doctor came in with the nurse trailing him. He wore jeans and hiking boots under his white coat, and he was young. About Alanna’s age of thirty-two. “I’m Dr. Miller.”

Alanna grasped his arm. “You’ve got to save my baby!”

He unhooked his stethoscope from around his neck. “I’ll do my best.” He motioned to the nurse, who wheeled up a fetal monitor. “We’ll see how the baby is doing. Are you having any cramps?”

“No, nothing.” Alanna leaned back in the chair and let the nurse attach the leads to her stomach. The reassuring thump of a rapid heartbeat filled the small room.

The doctor smiled. “That’s a good sound.” He bent over and listened to Alanna’s chest. “No distress for you yet. I’m not sure what to do, quite honestly. Sometimes a coral snake bite is a dry bite with no venom—about twenty-five percent of the time. In that case, the antivenom can do more harm than good.” He knelt, unwrapped the compression bandage, and examined her foot. “I don’t see a puncture wound.” He grabbed a light and a magnifying lens. “Ah, there it is. I see no signs yet of envenomation, but we can’t really tell until you show neurological signs.”

“What signs?” she asked.

“Paralysis, respiratory failure.” He straightened. “We can’t wait for that. Have you ever been told you’re allergic to horse serums?”

“No.”

“Good, then I’ll administer the antivenom.”

“What will it do to the baby?”

“There haven’t been many studies on it, but the ones that have been done seem to indicate a higher rate of miscarriage. That may be a moot point because nearly thirty percent of all women bitten by a poisonous snake miscarry. The antivenom is your best chance at protecting you and the baby.”

Alanna couldn’t hold back the tears. Barry took her hand, and she squeezed it tightly. “What if it’s a dry bite and the antivenom is harmful to the baby?”

“We have no way of knowing,” the doctor said. “But I think we need to administer the antivenom.”

Wait. The voice was a whisper in her heart. Was it God’s direction? She’d been going through such a long, dry spell she wasn’t sure. The assurance came again. Wait.

Is that you, God? Tears pricked the backs of her lids, and she waited, barely breathing.

Wait. The nudge came again, and she wanted to cry with relief. God hadn’t forsaken her. He saw her pain, her need.

She lifted her head and looked at the doctor. “I’m not going to take it.”

Barry’s grip tightened on her hand. “Alanna! You have to take it.”

“No, I don’t. There’s a chance I won’t need it.”

“But if you do and we wait until you show signs of envenomation, we might lose you both,” the doctor said. “Once the neurological symptoms appear, they’re very hard to reverse.”

“I’m going to take the chance.”

“No, she’s not,” Barry said. “Administer the shots.”

The doctor glanced from Barry to Alanna. “I’m afraid she’s the one who will have to give permission. You can’t decide that for her, Mr. Kavanagh.”

Barry took a step closer to the doctor and clenched his fists. “Do you know who I am? I donated the money for your pediatric wing.”

“I realize that. But laws are laws. Only your wife can choose her care.”

Barry’s fists opened. He turned and knelt beside her. His eyes were moist. “Please, Alanna, you can’t risk your life this way.”