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Grace looked completely unfazed by the examination and continued breathing through the contractions once he’d left the room. When she hadn’t asked questions, I convinced myself it was my ignorance that had made me think there was something wrong, but my fears rose again when the doctor was still absent some fifteen minutes later.
Between contractions as we waited there were pockets of normality where Grace and I discussed some practical plans for after our daughter was born, but as time went on I became increasingly frustrated and a nagging doubt grew at the back of my mind the longer he took to return.
Watching Grace continue to suffer made my chest tight, heightening my awareness of every breath I took. I’d never suffered from anxiety, but I recognized this was probably what was going on, given how useless I felt. I was used to controlling situations not being controlled.
Reflecting on everything I’d witnessed since arriving at the hospital, the only positives were the baby’s steady heartbeat and with each contraction, although agony for Grace, it meant we were one step closer to the birth of our precious baby.
When the door to our room slowly cracked open, the doctor stepped inside. The reluctant way he dragged his feet toward the bed almost freaked me out. I sensed hesitancy and dread in his presence. Gone was the chirpy, suave, and extremely self-assured authoritarian, and in his place was a young, dejected looking character who was almost unrecognizable as the same man.
I felt an aura of humility instead of how the doctor usually commanded respect, and there something else about his mood I couldn’t define in that moment.
As he lowered himself gently onto the bed, the door opened again, and the nurse who’d been attending to Grace reentered the room. I felt her reluctance to be present and her gaze fell to the floor.
Sitting silently we waited for Grace’s contraction to ebb away. My heartbeat pounded in fear while I watched Dr Ken draw several deep breaths.
A couple of times he swallowed roughly and closed his eyes as if what he needed to say was somehow painful for him and highly significant for us.
Frustration and anguish clashed in my gut, knotting it tight and I dug deep to find patience I never knew I possessed until that moment; either that or it was the unparalleled level of fear for our future which, until then, had prevented me from speaking out.
“What is it?” I eventually asked when the wait finally overwhelmed me.
Staring worriedly at me, it felt like an age before the young doctor found his courage, blinked, and took a deep breath. From the anticipation in those seconds, I knew he had no comforting words in what he needed to tell us.
Scanning the room for everything tangible to our situation, all I could see were the monitors that showed how Grace and the baby were coping; from what the nurse had explained before nothing had changed. When yet another contraction tailed off, Grace smiled reassuringly to me then again toward the doctor and the nurse.
Suddenly I noticed how young the nurse appeared and how upset she looked. My heart almost tore from my chest with a wave of fear and anticipation, and I instinctively knew whatever they had to say was going to change us.
While I silently prayed for everything to be okay, the door unexpectedly opened again and a small balding man stepped inside.
Initially I thought he may have been the pediatrician; dressed in his green scrubs. I have no idea why, perhaps because my mind wasn’t willing to acknowledge the unspoken truth, that there was something wrong.
Standing next to the nurse, the new member of the medical team also avoided my gaze. I was about to ask who he was when Dr. Ken cleared his throat and caught my attention again.
“Grace,” he said to gain her focus.
Looking nervously to me, he said her name again. “Grace, Cole…” He paused and swallowed audibly, his hesitancy made my heart beat erratically.
Inside my head I screamed for him to spit out whatever was wrong, as my heart tried to ignore the signs of concern I had seen in his eyes. Blood whooshed rapidly through my ears, and I wished it could have been loud enough to drown out any potentially bad news. I was already in shock and I had yet to learn why.
Grace’s pain-filled eyes went wide with alarm at his assertive tone, her gaze switching from me to the doctor then back to me. My hand automatically sought hers and I gripped it tight.
“When I examined you, Grace, I saw something of concern. There are some changes in your cervix, and I’ve sent some slides to the laboratory and now we wait for the expert’s opinion.”
“What is it? What’s wrong? Does she need antibiotics? Surgery? God, is the baby infected or something?” My rapid questions came without filter or any thought for how Grace was feeling. The look of concern on the doctor’s face ramped up my distress.
“At this point, I wouldn’t be willing to hazard a guess.” He stopped talking and stared blankly at Grace who was interrupted by another contraction.
At first, I thought she hadn’t heard him because she continued to breathe through her pain as she had with all the others, then I realized the doctor was waiting for her to finish. What the hell could be wrong? She’s been fine apart from these twinges.
Fighting my impulse to question him further, I waited for Grace to focus because we both needed to be informed. When the contraction subsided, my wife stared fearfully at her doctor.
“Grace, because you’re in established labor our priority is to help you to deliver your baby. This means we need to take you to the operating room straightaway. Your progress appears okay at present, but a vaginal birth is not an option. Your baby will become distressed if we leave it much longer.”
“What?” My sharp, loud response startled the doctor as I tried to absorb the worrying situation we suddenly faced. Anguish dragged me to my feet.
“What do you think it is? Why can’t she have a vaginal delivery?” Ignoring me, the doctor focused his attention on Grace. “What’s wrong with her cervix? Grace had an examination at the start of her pregnancy, right, Baby?” I persisted, turning to look to her for reassurance.
Grace’s eyes grew wide, but she frowned and went into the throes of another contraction before she could say anything. The contractions had changed and appeared to be almost continuous.
