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I blink, trying to picture my baby, so tiny and vulnerable.
“Lung maturity is the most immediate challenge. At twenty-nine weeks, the lungs aren’t fully developed. The steroid injection helps, but your baby may still need assistance.” She goes on to explain a host of things to consider. Dr. Patel is frank and straightforward, answering all our questions.
Tears prick at my eyes, but I force them back.
“Your baby will need to stay in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, or NICU, until he or she is strong enough to go home.”
There’s more. Dr. Patel tells us about an increased risk of infection, feeding problems, and vision and hearing loss—but she explains it all with such care, such empathy that it’s bearable.
Finally, she reaches out to squeeze my hand. “I know this is a lot to process, but while it’s important to understand potential risks, it’s equally important to remember many babies born at this gestational age do very well. Medicine has come a long way.”
Her words are a lifeline, and I cling to them. “Thank you, Dr. Patel,” I whisper, steeling myself for the path ahead. “I want to do what’s best for my baby.” I turn to Noodles, needing his input.
“We appreciate you taking the time to speak with us, and have a much better understanding of what to expect.” He turns to me. “What do you think?”
“I’m scared, but not nearly as much as before.” I turn to Dr. Patel. “What do we do now?”
“I’ll speak to Dr. Johnson. She’ll arrange for you to come in for the steroid injections and arrange for an early delivery. My team will be right there.”
We spend another twenty minutes asking questions. I feel a little more in control, knowing what to expect. As for delivering early, we make the decision to proceed.
Chapter Eleven
Back at home, Noodles and I sit on the couch, stunned by the events of the day. Our silence echoes through the room. A chilling sense of dread replaces the calm energy that once filled our home.
Slowly, we’re visited by our friends. They come in, two-by-two, trying not to overwhelm us but seeing if they can do anything to help. Angel makes brownies, and I devour those. Holly brings in a movie, and we plan to watch it later that night. Bent and Bash swarm in, chasing Zach and Kai, who escaped daycare and run wild through Insanity.
Their escape brings a smile to my face.
It’s the little things that matter the most.
During one of the times we’re alone, I lean against Noodles and sigh.
“I’m sorry.” I’m supposed to protect our baby, but now I’m putting him, or her, in harm’s way with an early delivery.
“None of this is your fault.” Noodles turns to look at me. “None of it.”
“I can’t help but feel responsible. My cancer is forcing our baby into this world too soon.” And it’s not just about the baby. My health affects Kai as well, preventing me from being there for him. “I-I’m scared.”
“I’m scared too.” He pulls me into his arms, his embrace warm and comforting. Sometimes it’s hard for me to remember how this affects him.
I lay my hand on my swollen belly, feeling the soft flutters of our unborn child. I trace gentle circles on my belly, and a fresh wave of guilt crashes over me. Our little one, so innocent and vulnerable, caught up in a battle he, or she, didn’t ask to fight. The unfairness of it stings.
My heart aches, not just for our unborn baby, but for Kai too. Our little boy, so full of energy and laughter, is unaware of what’s happening with his mother. The thought of not being there for him, of missing his milestones and laughter, sends a cold shiver down my spine.
Chapter Twelve
After two days and two injections, my body feels like it’s buzzing. Dr. Patel says the steroids will kickstart my baby girl’s lung development. It’s strange to have already done something important for her well-being when she’s still a part of me.
We know she’s a girl now, and Noodles is over the moon beside himself at the thought of being a daddy to a little girl.
I’m taken to a chilly, sterile operating room for a cesarian section. Nurses bustle around, helping me into a hospital gown, putting on a hair net, and arranging my body on the cold operating table. The entire Insanity crew waits outside for the birth, eager to meet the newest addition to our growing family.
The anesthesiologist introduces himself as Dr. Hill. His voice is calming, his manner gentle as he explains the process of the spinal block. I barely feel the needle’s prick, but soon a warm numbness spreads across my lower body. I can’t feel anything below my chest, and somehow, that’s the most terrifying part.
The final barrier between me and the procedure is a blue curtain that springs up around my chest. It transforms me into a disembodied entity—my pregnant belly, the focus of everyone’s attention, is on one side.
I’m on the other side.
