At First Sight - Nicholas Sparks [105]
Doris sat pale and trembling, staring without seeming to focus on anything. Jeremy sat beside her, then rose to pace the room, then sat again. He’d asked her what happened, but Doris knew no more than Jeremy. She brought her hands to her face and began to cry.
Jeremy couldn’t swallow. He couldn’t think. He tried to remember what happened, tried to piece it all together, but he couldn’t concentrate. Time slowed.
Seconds, minutes, hours . . . He didn’t know how much time passed, didn’t know what was happening, didn’t know if she would be okay, wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to rush back into the corridor to find the answers. More than that, he needed to see Lexie to know that she was okay. Doris continued to cry beside him, her trembling hands clasped in a desperate prayer.
Strangely, he would always remember everything about the waiting room, but as much as he tried, he couldn’t picture the face of the hospital counselor who eventually came to find him, and even the physician looked different from the way he’d appeared in the delivery room or during any of their previous appointments. All he would really remember was the cold terror he suddenly felt when he saw them appear. He stood, as did Doris, and though he thought he wanted answers, all at once he didn’t want them to say anything at all. Doris held his arm, as if hoping he were strong enough to support them both.
“How is she?” Jeremy asked.
The doctor seemed exhausted. “I’m so sorry to have to tell you this,” he began, “but we think your wife had what’s called an amniotic fluid embolism. . . .”
Again, Jeremy felt dizzy. Trying to steady himself, he focused on the specks of blood and fluid that had splattered on the doctor’s gown during the delivery. The words echoed as if from a great distance as the doctor went on.
“We don’t think the amniotic band had anything to do with it . . . they were completely separate events. . . . Amniotic fluid somehow must have entered one of the vessels in the uterus. There was no way we could have predicted it. . . . There was nothing we could do. . . .”
The room closed in around him, and Doris sagged against him, her voice going ragged. “Oh . . . no . . . ,” she said. “No . . . no . . .”
He strained to draw breath. Numbly, he heard the doctor going on.
“It’s very rare, but somehow, once the fluid entered the vessel, it must have traveled to her heart. I’m sorry, but she didn’t make it. The baby’s fine, though. . . .”
Doris staggered, but Jeremy was able to hold her upright. How, he wasn’t sure. None of this was making any sense. Lexie couldn’t be gone. She was fine. She was healthy. They were talking a few minutes ago. She’d delivered the baby. She’d pushed.
This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be real.
But it was.
The doctor seemed to be in shock himself as he continued to attempt an explanation. Jeremy stared through his tears, light-headed and nauseated.
“Can I see her?” he suddenly croaked out.
“She’s in the nursery, under the lights,” the doctor said, as if glad to finally have a question he could answer. He was a good man, and this was obviously hard for him. “Like I said, she’s doing fine.”
“No,” Jeremy said in a strangled voice. He struggled to form the words. “My wife. Can I see my wife?”
Twenty
Jeremy was numb as he made his way down the corridor. The doctor walked half a step behind him, saying nothing.
He didn’t want to believe it, couldn’t force himself to process the doctor’s words. He had made a mistake, Jeremy thought; Lexie wasn’t really gone. While the doctor had been talking, someone had noticed something, brain activity or a faint heartbeat, and they’d sprung into action. Right now, they were working on her and she was somehow getting better. It was like nothing they’d ever seen, even miraculous, but Jeremy knew she would make it. She was young and strong. She’d just turned thirty-two and she couldn’t be gone. She couldn’t be.
The doctor stopped outside a room near the intensive care unit, and Jeremy felt his heart leap in his chest at the thought that he might be right.