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I don’t even know where to begin
I’ve been feeling pretty restless lately, which for me is somewhat uncommon. I’ve been agitated, aggravated, like nothing I am doing or am about to do is quite right… lack of focus, having difficulty being present in the moment, any moment (as I try to type this, the words I can’t take this anymore are forming at the tips of my fingers).
If you can sense the frustration through my words, you are sensing right. And the fallout leaves me with a lot thoughts swirling in my head, all of which leads me to wonder just where to begin?
Pam went into full labor this past Sunday. The doctors told us Ben had a 75% chance of survival, but he would require a lot of intervention, potentially including mechanical ventilation and other invasive treatments. Pam immediately rejected the option and told the doctor she was not delivering, even though her body clearly told her otherwise.
“I can’t…” she kept saying. “He needs a few more weeks.”
“You might not have more time to give him,” the doctor told her.
“It’s going to stop,” she protested. “The contractions will stop.”
But they didn’t. They actually grew closer and closer together and at one point they were just minutes apart. My skin sezzled and my heart was beating so frantically, it was hard to breathe.
Restless…..restless….restless…..
“Pam, Ben is going to be okay.” I kept telling her, even though my mind told me otherwise. “They are going to take good care of him.”
“Jim, I’m not delivering him,” she said breathlessly. The contractions were taking a toll on her. “We have to give him the best possible chance. I know my limit, this isn’t it. We’ll be okay.”
I don’t know if she was saying it more to herself than to me because things were clearly not good. It wasn’t until the doctor did an ultrasound, showing a deficiency in blood supply to the baby that she understood, no, I’m not okay.
“It seems here,” the doctor said pointing to the screen, “There’s been a decrease in blood flow to the placenta.”
“I-Is he okay?” I asked.
“Right now he is okay, but he won’t be for long.”
“We have to deliver him?” I asked, but I phrased it like a statement.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. We can try one last option before we proceed with delivery.”
“What is it?” Pam asked.
“It’s a very powerful combination of magnesium sulfate and Prostaglandin synthetase inhibitors. This is a last-resort drug.”
“In other words,” I began. “There are risks.”
“Yes,” he answered. “Mom and the baby will have to be closely monitored.”
“What are they risks?” I asked, but I really didn’t want to know.
“The symptoms for the mother are very critical. It may include, muscle weakness, fluid in the lungs, heart attack, stroke…”
“And for the baby…” Pam asked.
“Minor jaundice, fast heartbeat, but nothing that we can’t closely monitor.”
The room went silent. Pam and I just held hands. We were at a crossroads and it seemed that whatever path we chose wouldn’t be the right one. We definitely weren’t ready for this, and maybe we’ve tricked ourselves into believing that it was all going to work out just fine. What if we can’t possibly handle what’s coming our way? What if Ben doesn’t make it? What if our marriage suffers? What if Cece becomes over-stressed and overwhelmed? What if, what if, what if…
Restless…..restless….restless…..
My head was spinning until Pam broke the silence and asked, “How will you be monitoring the baby?”
“We’ll need to monitor him internally,” the doctor explained. “We’ll place an electrode directly on his head through your cervix.”
The room grew silent again before the doctor said, “I’ll give you two a moment.”
“Thanks,” Pam said.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Pam turned to me and said, “We’re stopping the labor,” She was defensively cradling her belly like a knight. All she really needed was a battle-ax in her hands to complete the picture.
“Whaa…What?”
“That’s Ben’s best option because he is safer in here. We have to try.”
I had all these counter arguments swirling in my head and I wanted to make her see what could happen to her if we chose this route. But she wasn’t worrying about herself. There was this little heart it was her job to protect and I knew she couldn’t bring herself to take any other chance.
“You said it yourself they would take good care of him, right? They will take good care of me too. And if something doesn’t seem right they’ll make it better, right?”
I looked at her and I couldn’t help but give her the answer she wanted to hear, “Y-yes… They will make it b-better.”
I moved towards the bed sat next to her. We both wanted to believe things would be okay, but the reality was different. I placed my hand over her belly and rubbed circles on it. Her hands joined mine.
“I don’t want to lose him,” she said.
I thought a bit before I answered. “We won’t,” I said, trying to keep my voice even and calm, despite the whirlwind of emotion I felt churning inside me.
“I haven’t even met him and he already has such a big part of my heart.”
“Pam, he is ours.” My Ben. My boy. My son.
“Why is this happening to us, Jim?”
There’s no actual answer, I wanted to tell her. It’s a rhetorical question. Life is not always fair. But at the time I told her there was no use in trying to make sense of things (or something along those lines). I sounded so empty and thinking about it now makes me wonder why she didn’t see right through me.
We painfully made the decision to go ahead with the drugs and my heart grew a little tighter with every consent form I signed. They began administering the drugs, but the contractions kept coming. Pam began going in and out of conscience and a tidal wave of emotion and stress came over me and sent me reeling into backwash of doubt and anguish. Did we make the wrong choice?
Frustrated.....agitated.…...aggravated…..
I felt as if every cell in my body was in a stranglehold. My blood was racing, my mind was in a whirl of conflicting thoughts and emotions, and the only thing I knew for sure was that someone was going to end up hurt.
“I want to see Cece,” Pam blurted out. The time between her eyes opening and closing were getting longer and longer.
“W-what?” I immediately thought, bad idea.
“I haven’t seen her, Jim. I want to see her.”
“But Pam—”
“Tell m-my mom to c-come for a visit,” she said a bit breathless.
I wasn’t going to argue with her, not now. “Okay.”
I called Helene and masked the turmoil raging through me as I asked her to bring Cece for a visit. At the time, it didn’t even occur to me to ask the doctor if it was okay, which I found out, it wasn’t. But after a lot of talking and convincing, we were allowed to get Cece up to the room for a couple of minutes.
When Helene arrived, I met them in the lobby.
“Daddy!!” Cece called, flying into my arms.
“Hey, Swea’Pea!”
“Daddy, I made dis,” she said showing me a very colorful piece of construction paper. “S’ for baby Ben ’n momma!”
“That was so thoughtful of you!”
I kissed her and just held on to her - a tight knot of tension coiled inside me.
“How’s Pam doing?” Helene asked.
“We are waiting for the drugs to kick in.”
“And the baby?”
“They are monitoring him very closely.”
“Are they going to be okay?” Helene whispered in her smallest voice. I knew she didn’t want to know the answer.
“Yes,” I replied, more to myself. Everything will be okay.
“Daddy, I wanna see momma!!”
“Okay, Okay.” I told her.
“I’ll wait here,” Helene said.
“Thanks,” I mouthed.
We took the elevator up to the 5th floor and as soon as the doors opened, Cece said, “Ahh we dere yet?”
“Almost, but remember… you have to be really careful with mom.”
“Daddy I’ll be a gud girl, but daddy?”
“Yess?”
“Can I hug momma?”
“Of course, but not like this,” I said, squeezing her tightly. She giggled. I can’t explain how good it felt hearing her laugh. I began to understand the logic behind Pam’s madness.
“Daddy?
“Yes?”
“Can I kiss momma?”
“Yes, you can.”
“Like this, daddy?” She asked and planted the sloppiest kiss on my cheek. She knew what she had done and was completely amused to see the shock on my face.
“Oh no you didn’t!”
She flashed that mischievous smile of hers.
“You’re so silly,” I said.
“Daddy?” She said with a bit more gravity in her tone. “When‘s momma comin’ home?”
“Soon, Cece,” I told her. “Very soon.”
“Daddy? I miss momma dis much,” she said extending her arms out.
“I know bug… I know….”
When we reached the room, Cece inexplicably tightened her grip around my neck.
“We’re here,” I said, pushing the door open.
Cece’s smile grew three times when she finally saw Pam.
“Momma!” She exclaimed, but held herself tight in my arms. Normally she would wiggle and pitch herself at Pam.
“C’mere, Baby girl,” Pam said exhausted. Cece looked up at me - she was waiting for my okay. I nodded and placed her on the bed next to Pam.
“Momma, I made dis jus for you!” She said showing Pam the card.
“This is beautiful, Cece. Thank you.”
Pam just held Cece close, absorbing everything about her. I just sat back and watched. It is truly beautiful seeing them together. I can’t wait to see Pam with Ben. Our kids won the lottery when it comes to mothers and I sure know I did too in the wife department.
We had told the doctor Cece would only be up with us for a few minutes but since no one (there were nurses coming and going constantly) asked us to bring her out, we kept her with us. And after about an hour, Pam began to feel Ben move.
“He is moving,” she said.
I didn’t know what to make of it, but I jumped on the happy wagon and fed on the feeling.
“Momma, can I see it?”
“Sure,” Pam said, taking Cece’s small hands in hers.
It didn’t take long before Ben was nudging Cece’s hands.
“Oooohh momma…. Dere he is!”
“Pretty cool, huh?”
And that was when Cece said, “Momma, you no sick. Can we go home now?”
Up until that point, Pam and I hadn’t realized that her contractions had stopped. There were no more spikes on the machine, and Ben’s numbers looked stable. The doctor came in shortly after and confirmed our suspicion. Pam’s contractions had fully stopped.
Pam and I looked at each other and we just burst into tears. We were so relived and happy and ecstatic and fortunate, and blessed, and, and, and….
Restless…..restless….restless…..
Pam is now 28 ½ weeks along. We are tired, stressed, ready for things to calm down, and hoping that those calmer, relatively more restful days come sooner than later.
As the metaphor goes, we are still climbing the mountain and probably will for a while, but the terrain seems to have leveled out a bit as we get close to the 32 weeks checkpoint. The trees are beginning to clean and we can almost see the first of what is sure to be many summits on the path ahead.
-Jim
Chapter End Notes:
Thanks for reading! Let me know if you guys are still interested in this angsty fic.
