True to his word, Al is there waiting as Sergio clambers out of the SUV. Carlo lays his jacket over me, seeing as I’m only in a bikini. Not that I care, I just want to know my baby is okay.
I look over my shoulder toward Al, I can see the fear written on his face only for a second before he shakes his reaction off.
Weakness.
He can’t show it.
For that reason, I try to be strong.
Al attempts to take me from Sergio’s arms. But the pain increases, and my arms cling to Sergio’s neck.
“She’s in a lot of pain if she moves,” he explains to Al, who grunts in return.
“We just need you to lay her on the gurney then, sir,” a lady in scrubs standing behind Al coos as she pushes the stretcher forward.
“Gotta put you down, sweets,” Sergio informs me as he presses a kiss to my hair and leans over to place me on the gurney.
My arms are still in a death lock around his neck. He prizes them apart and strokes my cheek as he steps back. As he does, I don’t miss the death glare that Al sends him, even though he knows I’m all his. I know he still struggles with mine and Sergio’s friendship.
Al steps forward and grabs my hand as they start to wheel me into the hospital.
They place me in a private room, with three men and two women all dressed in scrubs.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Won, I’m the attending on today. You are thirty-seven weeks pregnant, yes?” the Chinese man asks.
I nod. “She is,” Al confirms at the same time.
“And you just started bleeding?”
“I got an intense pain when I sat up, then when I stood, the pain increased causing me to double over. That’s when I felt the warmth between my legs,” I sob.
“I need to do an ultrasound to see if I can see where the bleeding is coming from. I also may need to do an internal exam, depending on what I find. Is that okay?” Dr. Won addressed both me and Al.
From his hesitancy, I assume he knows who my husband is.
“Yes… that’s fine,” I nod and squeeze Al’s hand. He also nods.
They set up the scanning equipment and are quick to get the probe on my stomach.
Dr. Won tilts his head this way and that way as he applies an uncomfortable amount of pressure to my stomach. I wince at the pain.
“Sorry, I just need to get a clearer view to confirm what I think I’m seeing.” He mumbles as he continues to move the probe. “Ah, there it is,” he confirms as he puts the probe back on the stand and removes his gloves.
“You have something called partial placental abruption, Mrs. De Luca. This is where your placenta has become partially detached from your uterus. This inhibits the amount of oxygen your baby is receiving.”
I whimper as I try to suck in a lungful of air and end up choking on it like my lungs are rejecting it.
Al leans in and wraps his arm around my shoulders, placing a kiss to my temple.
“What does this mean, doctor? For my wife and my son?” Al is the epitome of calm.
“As for now, your son’s heartbeat is stable. This tells me he is currently not in any distress. How long that will last, I cannot tell you.” He motions for the nurse to strap me up to another device.
As she connects it, my baby’s heartbeat filters into the room. She hands me a button to press every time I feel him move.
“We will continue to monitor him closely, but you have two options. We can wait and see if the bleeding eases, which means you would need to remain in hospital for the rest of your pregnancy. This option is the biggest of risks. The other option, and the one I would recommend, is that we perform a cesarean section today. You are thirty-seven weeks, and your son is fully formed. We can administer a dose of steroids to help his lungs mature and wait another twelve hours. In my opinion, though, it would be your safest option to proceed as soon as possible. Of course, we can wait, and if the baby starts to become distressed, we can always section you at that point. It is up to you.”
We both just stare at Dr. Won.
