My daughter’s legs and arms flailed through the plaid flannel shirt wrapped around her tiny body as Nina handed her to me. I felt like I was about to have a heart attack.
Panic-stricken, I yelled into the phone, “She’s still bleeding. She’s losing a lot of fucking blood. You need to tell them to hurry! Please!”
“Does it look like more than a pint? Listen, Mr. Green, you need to massage her lower abdomen immediately.”
Suddenly, her head slumped over.
“No! Nina!” I cried.
Holding our baby in one arm, I repeatedly tapped Nina’s cheeks with my other hand. “Baby, please. Stay with me. Nina. Please.”
“What’s happening, sir?”
“She’s passed out. She’s unconscious.” My vision was blinded by the tears in my eyes. My lips were trembling as I spoke, unable to catch my breath, “Nina, wake up. Wake up. Please!”
It felt like the middle of a nightmare, my baby’s deafening cry a reminder that this was very real and not something I was going to wake up from. Bonnie’s voice became jumbled in the midst of my panic.
Then, came a jolt followed by sudden and steady movement downward.
As Nina continued to remain unconscious, looking like she was bleeding to death, the descent felt more like a downward spiral into the depths of hell.
The doors slid open, and even though light streamed in, darkness surrounded me.
The darkness of men rushing in.
The darkness of someone taking my crying infant away.
The darkness of Nina being put onto a stretcher with an oxygen mask over her face.
The darkness of their voices. “She’s hemorrhaging.”
It was all happening at lightning speed, the fate of everything that mattered to me hanging in the balance in the hands of total strangers.
Nina’s words from years past haunted me.
There is nothing that could make me leave you.
You brought me back to life.
Yet, I was helpless to save her now.
How I’d gotten from the hotel into that ambulance and to the hospital was a mystery to me. Those twenty or so minutes were a blurry montage of terrifying sounds, voices and flashing lights as Nina lay semi-conscious and bleeding while paramedics tended to her and the baby.
Once at Saint Andrews, I tried to barge my way into the operating room, but they wouldn’t let me inside. Medical staff in masks pushed me away from everything that mattered to me. Too afraid to take any focus off of the job they needed to do, I backed down and stayed in the waiting room as they instructed.
Now, as I sat with my head in my hands, I didn’t know if she was dead or alive. They’d taken our daughter to the nursery, but my shock paralyzed me, making me unable to move from my spot long enough to go visit her.
Nina had to be okay. Not only for me but for our son and daughter.
A flash of her beautiful smile from when she first woke up this morning hit me. Life had changed in an instant.
It wasn’t possible to imagine life without her. Before today, I thought I understood how strong my love for her was. Faced with the threat of losing her forever, the depth of that love was truly realized. Because even with my healthy baby girl and son at home, the future was blank without Nina. I didn’t just love her. To me, she was love, was life.
My life started the day she entered it. It would end the day she left it. There was no gap between where I began and she ended. We were one.
I’d always accepted whatever hand I’d been dealt, especially with Ivy. I never blamed God or anyone else for the tragedies in my life. But if something happened to Nina, I knew I would never recover. I wouldn’t be able to forgive Him. And that terrified me, what that would mean for my kids if their father was just an empty shell for the rest of their lives.
For the first time in my life, I was truly scared.
“Mr. Green?”
My head flew upward as I stood up to meet the doctor’s face which held an indecipherable expression. My heart was struggling to keep up with the fear driving it to beat faster than what it could sustain.
“Your wife is stable.”
Stable
Alive.
Every muscle in my body relaxed at once as the breaths I’d been holding for what seemed like an eternity released out of me.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
“As you know, there was an excessive amount of bleeding from the hemorrhaging. We were able to compress the arteries supplying blood to the uterus without having to do a hysterectomy. There shouldn’t be any long-term implications on fertility. She is very lucky to be alive given the circumstances you were found in.”
“She’s conscious now?”
“Yes. The fainting happened because of a sudden drop in blood pressure as a result of the bleeding.”
“Can I see her?”
“Yes. But she should get some rest soon after. We had to give her oxytocin to help the uterus contract in order to stop the bleeding that ensued after the placental delivery, so she’ll be tired from the drug not to mention the ordeal. We’ll be keeping her here a couple of extra days over the norm for observation.”
“Thank you, doctor. God, thank you so much. You saved her life. I could never repay you. Never.”
“No need for thanks. It’s what I do.” He smiled. “I’m told your daughter is doing just fine, too. You’re a lucky man, Mr. Green.” He gave me a single pat on the shoulder and said, “Follow me.”
Eagerly following the path to Nina’s room, I said a silent prayer to the man upstairs for coming through when I needed Him most.