Avenging Us - Gina Whitney Page 0,35
pat on my back, and all I wanted to do is stay with my beauty. Her eyes filled with tears. She squeezed my hand and promised it would be fine. However, I was always the one doing the reassuring…comforting, easing her mind. I felt uneasy, unsure, and out of control. The rug pulled out from under me, and I was free-falling into hell.
The nurses took Gia into the operating room to prep her for the surgery while I waited for what seemed like forever, but in actuality, was only about 20 minutes. My heart pounded and my breaths came out labored.
Cindy walked into the suite with a cup of Nitro-coffee and handed it to me. “Where’s G?” she asked, looking around the room. Her question started a nervous fluttering in my stomach, threatening to purge itself of its contents.
I sat in the chair next to the spot where Gia was, needing to collect myself. “They took her to the operating room to prep her for a C-section.”
She blinked a few times before realization hit. “She was going to get one anyway, right? She’s just doing it earlier.” A nurse walked in and handed me a pair of grey scrubs and a hair net.
I accepted them and stood, walking to the bathroom to change. “Yes, and no. The cord is around the baby’s neck causing the oxygen level and heart rate to drop.” Her eyes widened, and my own welled up. Saying the words out loud twisted my gut and broke my heart all at once. I swallowed the knot in my throat and closed the bathroom door. A shadow moved across the bottom of the door as Cindy leaned against it. I removed the scrubs, putting the pants on first.
“Everyone’s in the waiting room and Jake is picking your parents up from the airport. So they’ll be here shortly. I’m praying for you both, and I’m sure the baby and Gia will be fine. I’ll let them know,” she said and then the shadow was gone.
Prayer…has it come to that? I put my arms through the sleeves and over the pants. I turned the faucet on and splashed my face with some water, needing another minute to reflect. Man, you look bad. The tan I sported yesterday drained from my face. The man in the reflection was a ghost of emotions and thick scruff—a stranger. The man in the mirror had, in his short life, broken nearly all of the Ten Commandments, and it’s been a while since I’d felt so low. Fear usually drove me to drugs, and right now, I’d kill for a drink or a hit. I turned, leaning my forehead against the cold door. Despair clung to me, and emptiness filled my heart. And I prayed like hell Beauty would reward me and we’d share a new life together alongside our new son or daughter. I told myself: This is exactly where you’re supposed to be. So be here, now. This pain is a gift, just as your happiness will be. Find the stillness in it. Listen. Have faith. Learn. Rise.
Become stronger than your struggle.
The nurse knocked on the bathroom door, asking if I was ready. Was I? Yes, you are! I left, following her down the hallway and past the waiting room where my friends sat. Jake just walked in with my parents, who met me at the next door.
“Be strong, son…be strong for her and your baby. We’ll be here waiting.” He grabbed me, hugging me, and my mother wrapped her arms around both of us. And then she said, “I’m praying for the three of you.” I nodded and continued through another set of doors until finally walking into OR Two.
There must have been ten people in the operating room. I stopped short, staring at the sheet pulled across Beauty’s mid-section, my feet cemented into place. The lights were bright, and the sterile smell burned my nose. The team around her unwrapped the surgical instruments and placed them on the metal trays, the sounds echoing around me.
A cheery nurse tugged my arm, and explained what was going on. “I’m Gail, the head nurse. This is all normal procedure and we do a few of these a day. So it’s routine,” she said as I followed toward the table that Beauty was on. “She’s been given an epidural block, so she won’t feel any pain at all.” Then she pointed to the bag the hung below. “That’s the urinary catheter and IV,” she continued