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It was merely five in the morning and I woke up due to me having contractions for the third night in the row— and they were getting a lot more painful.
"Khalil," I called forgetting that he wasn't here. He was at the house making sure everything was in order. In fact I was here alone.
I felt around the bed for the nurse button and long pressed it indicating that it was an emergency as I always did per request when I woke up to any type of pain.
After a good two minutes, a doctor barged into the room.
"Yes ma'am! Is everything ok?" She asked semi frantically. "I'm just having some bad contractions."
"Well, from what I can see here," She pointed at the screen, turning it so that I could see. "your blood pressure seems to be very high and it could be causing the baby to stress themselves so that may be why." She pointing to the blood pressure cuff that never left my arm. "Let me take a look." I nodded laying back and lifting my shirt.
She rolled the ultrasound the machine close to my bed and got the heated gel applying some onto my stomach.
Once the machine was on, she used the probe moving it around slowly. She stared at the screen intently before her eyes widened.
"What is it?" I spoke managing to sit up quickly. She continued to stare at the screen before speaking.
"It seems that your baby isn't getting enough oxygen and the abruption has gotten worse. We're gonna need to do an emergency c-section like right now." She said snatching the gloves from her hands.
"Wh-what do you mean? I'm not full term yet." I stuttered nervously. I was nearing the end of my seventh month, landing me at thirty weeks. I had hoped to at least make it to thirty seven weeks.
"She looks to be at least five pounds at this point which is a good sign. Her lungs are still undeveloped of course but we can help with that. If she's gonna have a fighting chance, we have to get this baby out of you now, you both are in serious danger." She said grabbing the bed remote and long pressing the call button.
I shut my eyes tightly and began to pray hoping that God could hear me and would cover both me and my baby, but if not, surely her.
I knew that I was supposed to be prepared for this but that didn't make it any less scary.
I would have to go under anesthesia and there was a fifty percent chance that me and the baby could die during surgery—and that's without complications so that was obviously heightened.
I was determined to have this baby healthy or die trying.
The second doctor knocked before walking into the room. They both discussed the issue at hand. I grabbed my phone from the dresser and dialed Khalil. After the third ring, he didn't answer so I left a message.
