Dr. Ellis, takes some measurements and points out different things. The baby starts to suck on his thumb, so he zooms in on that. I’m enthralled with watching him. All too soon, the screen goes black and Dr. Ellis is wiping off her belly.
“Here.” He hands me a CD. “I recorded it for you. I also have these.” Reaching beneath the machine, he tears off a long, thin strip of paper.
Pictures.
Of my son.
“Thank you,” I rasp.
He leaves the room, taking the machine with him, just as my phone vibrates in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see ‘Dad’ flash across the screen. I don’t know if I can even have my phone on in here; will it mess with all these machines? I let the call go to voicemail and step out of the room.
“I need to make a call. Am I allowed to use this here?” I ask Alice once I reach the nurses’ station.
“Yeah, we just ask that you leave it on vibrate, and of course end any calls when the physician is in the room,” she tells me.
“Thank you. Can I stay?” I point over my shoulder.
“Yeah, she’s stable for now. But if anyone asks, I told you no.” She winks at me.
I nod since smiling back would take too much effort at this point. I walk back to her room and take the chair next to the bed, swiping the screen to call my dad back.
“Ridge, how was the gala?” He chuckles. Dad knows that’s not my thing.
“I didn’t make it. Tonight has been . . . one for the books,” I confess.
“What’s going on, son?”
My parents’ are awesome, always there for Reagan and me growing up, and even now as adults. I know I can go to them with anything. Looking at my watch, I see that it’s after ten at night. “It’s a long story. I’m not hurt, but I’m still at the hospital.”
“Hospital?”
I can hear the worry in his voice. “Yeah, would you be able to . . . ?”
“I’m on my way. Your mother?”
I love that he gets me. He wants to know if he should bring Mom or if this is a ‘guys’ conversation. At this point, I need all the support I can get. “Yeah, if she’s not already asleep. Just ask the nurse at the reception desk to get me. I’ll let them know I’m waiting for you.”
“We’re leaving now.”
Just like that, no questions asked. I should probably call Reagan and the guys, but I just can’t find the strength to do it. I will also have to deal with Stephanie at some point. She’s obviously pissed, hence the reason I haven’t heard from her since I told her I wasn’t going to make it to the gala.
There are more important things in life.
When Alice comes in to check Melissa’s vitals, I inform her that I’m waiting on my family.
“I’ll let the receptionist know where to find you.”
“Thank you.” I spend the next fifteen minutes studying the pictures of my son. I’m glad that I have them; it makes this more real. It will be easier to explain with proof.
A little while later, Alice peeks her head in the door. “Your family just arrived. I had Kate put them in the private room you were in before.”
“Thanks.” I stand and grab the letter and with one last parting look at Melissa, I leave the room to fill my family in on the events of the evening.
“Knock, knock.” Dr. Ellis peeks his head into the private waiting room.
I just finished giving my parents’ and Reagan the condensed version of my day. Telling them that I was going to be a father was the hardest part. By the time I was finished, there were lots of tears for Melissa, the baby, and just the entire situation.
“Ridge, this is Dr. Robbins. He’s treating Melissa,” he introduces us.
“So, how is she? How’s the baby? What’s next?” I rush through questions that have been bouncing around in my head since I first found out.
“Baby is good, vitals are strong,” Dr. Ellis states, looking at a tablet in his hands. “Her vitals are good, now we just wait for her body to decide to wake up. Medicine is not an exact science. We have to let her body heal and decide when she wakes up; it’s a waiting game.”
“Mom is stable for now. Her body is protecting her from her injuries. It’s now just a waiting game to see if and when she wakes up,” Dr. Robbins tells me.
“If?”
He nods slowly. “If. Medicine is not an exact science, and it’s hard to know how the body is going to react to trauma. We are hopeful, but she’s been out for a long time.”
“And the baby? What does all of this mean for him? What happens if Melissa doesn’t wake up?” I ask, even though I’m fearful for the answer.
“In situations such as this, we will continue to monitor the baby and do a cesarean delivery when the time comes,” Dr. Ellis answers.
“Is that safe for Melissa? How does that affect her?”
“As safe as it can be. We would provide her with the same anesthesia we would any mom in this situation.”
“So, we just wait?” I scoff, thinking there has to be something else.
“At this time, yes. That’s all we can do. Dr. Ellis will monitor the baby closely, and if there are any signs of distress, we will deliver without question,” Dr. Robbins states.
Resting my elbows on my knees, I bury my face in my hands. I hate that I can’t fix this. I can’t help Melissa, and I can’t do anything but wait and pray that the baby is okay.
More prayers. I’ve been calling in a lot of those in the last several hours.
“We’ll keep you posted should things change.”