Precious Consequences(12)

“Okay, Hayley,” Dr. Burke says, taking in my pained and sweaty appearance. “I’m going to see what’s going on with your baby.”

His serious expression frightens me, and it gives rise to tears. The physical pain and the fear of not knowing what’s wrong are strangling me. I’m lifted onto the hospital bed and roughly stripped of my yoga pants. Dr. Burke covers my lower body, propping my legs up, and starts feeling around my vagina. A nurse presses a wand to my stomach.

“Ow!” I scream, struggling for breath between my sobs. “What’s going on? What’s going on with my baby?” My voice is hysterical and the questions come out rapidly and are almost indecipherable.

Dr. Burke ignores me, watching the ultrasound screen with a concerned expression on his face while feeling around between my legs. He lifts his hand and removes the bloody glove.

“Prep Miss Tanner for an emergency C-Section immediately. The baby has gone into fetal distress and is losing oxygen too quickly. We need to get her out now,” Dr. Burke instructs his team.

There’s a sudden increase in the flurry of activity around me and my head is swimming. I’m given a shot of Demerol and an Epidural for the pain.. The nurse is speaking too quickly for me to catch anything she is saying.

“What’s going on?” I ask again. “Dr. Burke, is she okay?”

My questions go unanswered and the last thing I hear is “Quickly, she’s losing too much blood.” Then I hear a cry and voices and…nothing. Everything goes black. There’s no pain. No light. Just nothing.

After what feels like forever, my heavy eyelids start to lift. I cover my face to avoid the sharp light, moaning in protest. Soft hands brush my forehead.

“Hayley?”

I open one eye, the obscured image of my grandmother coming into focus. Her worried smile is gentle and judging by her red, puffy eyes she’s been crying.

“Gama?”

“I’m here, sweetheart.”

My hand slides down to my now flat stomach and everything comes back to me, hitting me like a freight train.

I struggle to sit up, ignoring the pain in my lower abdomen. “Where is she?” I ask loudly, looking around frantically. “Where’s my baby?”

I fear the worst and tears threaten to spill.

“You need to calm down, sweetheart,” my grandmother says, soothing me. “She’s in an incubator, in NICU. She had some trouble breathing but I’ll get the doctor and have him explain it all to you.”

As if summoned, the door to my room opens and Dr. Burke walks in, holding a chart. A short nurse shuffles in behind him and starts taking my vitals.

“I’m glad to see you’re awake, Hayley,” he says. “You gave us quite a scare.”

I wince when the nurse checks the dressing on my stomach and then look back at Dr. Burke. “What happened?” I ask, concerned. “Is she okay?” I swallow my panic quickly and will myself not to freak out.

“She’s doing fine,” he reassures me. “She went into fetal distress when her umbilical cord wrapped around her neck and cut off her oxygen. It’s normal for the mother to experience blood loss and sever pain in those cases, which is what happened with you. You also lost a significant amount of blood once we delivered your baby, due to some unforeseen complications. Fortunately, we saved both of you before it was too late.”

I blink back tears again, feeling relieved. “Can I see her?”

Dr. Burke nods, saying, “Yes. Because she was premature, we’ve incubated her to make sure her lungs are able to function fully on their own. I will have a nurse bring you a wheelchair and your grandmother can take you up to see your baby. I will be back in a few hours to check on you. Hopefully you and your baby can go home soon, as soon as I’m happy with your progress.”

I nod once. “Thank you, doctor.”

He gives me a small smile and leaves the room. When another nurse has come in and helped me into the wheelchair, my grandmother takes me up two floors to the NICU, where there are newborn babies in incubators and their parents huddled close. My grandmother pushes me in front of an incubator, the name ‘Tanner’ stuck on it, and I take the first look at my baby. My little girl. She’s tiny. The pink blanket wrapped around her hugs her body and makes it look like she’s in a cocoon. Safe and warm and loved. When I look at her face, I feel my protective instincts kick in and I have to resist the urge to pull out the small tube stuck up her nose, I would die before I allow anything to harm her. I stick my hand through the hole in the side of the incubator and touch my daughter's skin. As if she knows I’m here, her eyes open and my heart stutters. I feel it, the bond that will forever tether me to this little life that is now entwined with mine.

“Do you have a name picked out for her?” my grandmother asks me.

I look up at her and see her eyes grow wet. I also see something else etched firmly on her face and aside from the love and adoration this woman has for me, I see pride. Genuine my-heart-is-going-to-explode pride.

I smile. “Arianna Marie.”

Tears slide down my grandmother's face and she squeezes my shoulder. Marie is my grandmother’s name, and I felt it was fitting to give it to my daughter. It’s strong, and kind, just like the woman it comes from.

I turn my gaze back on Arianna who is still looking at me.