Takes You

by Nicola C. Priest

  I wipe the gel off my belly and pull the tissue from the waistband of my leggings. Pulling my top down, I sit up and swing my legs round, looking down at Cal.

  “It’s back, Cal. I knew there was always a chance, but I’d hoped I’d be the exception.”

  “You don’t know that, Crissie.”

  “Why else would my oncologist come in here? Of all the doctors, of all the obstetricians in this hospital, why bring him in here?”

  Cal opens his mouth to say something but changes his mind and just sighs. “If it has come back, we’ll deal with it, just like we dealt with it last time.”

  “But I’m pregnant, Cal. This is completely different to last time.” I hear the tone of my voice and stop talking. The last thing I want is to argue with Cal about this. He’s right. We don’t know what the doctor saw on the scan. Until we know, there’s no point in getting worked up. It could be nothing, but something tells me that isn’t the case.

  True to his word, my oncologist returns after five minutes and sits next to me on the bed. He looks between Cal and me before speaking. “I’m going to cut to the chase, Crissie. The scan shows your cancer may have returned. We need to get a full scan of the area to know for sure, and I’d like to get that done now, if you’re okay with that?”

  I knew it.

  I turn to Cal, who’s still holding my hand tightly. I see him break eye contact and glance down at my belly. My free hand automatically goes to my stomach, and I look back at the doctor. “Our baby. Will the scan hurt the baby?”

  “No, Crissie, your baby will be perfectly safe. I’ll give you a few minutes to talk, then I’ll send a nurse in. Just let her know if you want the scan and she’ll take you down.”

  I give the doctor a small smile as he gets up and leaves the room. I keep my eyes on the door as my shoulders sag, and I let out a long sigh.

  “It might not be as bad as it sounds, Cris. You should get the scan, so we know what’s happening.”

  I know he’s right; he usually is. This could be the same as it was before, but with one major difference. Now I’m pregnant. Nothing will be the same this time around. How can it be?

  Why can’t things just go right for a change? There’s always something lurking around the corner to knock us down just as things are starting to go our way. I’m about to agree with Cal when there’s a knock at the door and a nurse peers round the opening. “Miss Walker, are you ready to go for that scan?”

  “Okay. Let’s do this.” I jump off the bed, and, with Cal by my side, we follow the nurse through the hospital corridors, hoping and praying the doctor is wrong.

  Chapter 46

  Crissie

  Here we are again.

  I’ve seen way too much of this hospital over the past few years. I had hoped the last time would be just that: the last. But no such luck.

  I’ve had the scan and we’re now waiting for the results. I had expected to be sent home and called back in a few days, but the nurse who took me down to the scan instructed us to wait and the doctor would come get me when he had the results.

  That, in and of itself, has made me nervous. Cal is still by my side, as he promised me he would be, and he is still holding my hand in his. My other hand is resting against my belly, something I’ve only just realised I’m doing.

  I’m pregnant now. It’s not just me I have to consider. Whatever the doctor tells us, the options available will be different. We’ve got to think about how all of this will affect the baby. I’m just hoping the doctor is wrong and there’s nothing wrong, or if there is, it’s nothing serious.

  I’m full of nervous energy as I jump up from my seat, forcing Cal to release my hand as I begin pacing the waiting area. One hand is on my hip, the other on my belly as I walk back and forth. I can feel Cal’s eyes on me and glance at him, seeing him leaning forward, his forearms on his knees as he watches me.

  The expression on his face is one I’ve not seen in a long time, and it breaks my heart to see it again. I keep forgetting all this affects him too, and I feel bad that I haven’t considered how he must be feeling. Last time I was diagnosed, he took it hard. He kept a brave face because he knew I needed him to be strong, but I heard him crying more than once when he thought I was sleeping.

  I start to go back to him when the door opens, and I see the face of my oncologist. His expression is unreadable, and I’m not sure whether that scares me or comforts me.

  “Crissie, Cal, you can come in now.”

  Cal stands and takes my hand as we both walk into the doctor’s office and take a seat on the opposite side of his desk. The office hasn’t changed much since I was last in here, except there’s an extra photograph of a woman and a young baby. He catches me looking and smiles. “That’s my daughter, Ellie, and her little boy, Jordan. He’s just gone one.”

  “Your first grandchild?”

  “He is, and already has me wrapped around his little finger.” He smiles again as he looks at the photograph before turning to his computer. He presses a few keys before linking his fingers together in front of him and turning to us.

  “It’s what we feared, Crissie. The cancer has returned. From looking at the scans, the cancer has spread to the parametrium, which is the tissue next to your cervix, meaning the cancer is more advanced than before. It’s now classed as stage two. Now, like before, we do have options available to us, but with you being pregnant, it does complicate things.” The doctor pauses for a moment, giving us time to digest the information he’s already given us. Even though I was hoping he was wrong, I knew deep down this disease had come back. It was pretty naïve of me to believe it was something other than cancer, but I needed something to hold onto.

  “You said it’s stage two? How is that different from stage one?”

  “Basically, it means the cancer has spread outside of the area where it originated. Your previous cancer was localised to your cervix, and at the stage we caught it, it was early stage one. As I said, this time it’s spread outside the cervix, which makes it stage two. Now, your cancer is also classed as recurrent, as you’ve already completed a course of treatment. What we need to do now is discuss the options we have and make a decision on now to proceed.

  “Do we need to decide today?”

  “Not at all. As before, I’ll give you all the information and then you can take a few days to decide what you want to do, but, Crissie, I need to tell you, being pregnant is going to complicate things, and you might have to make a difficult decision.”

  I don’t like the way he said that, or the way he’s looking at me right now.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Crissie, for a recurrent cancer, the normal course of treatment is surgery followed by radiotherapy or chemotherapy. Once treatment starts, you will almost certainly miscarry very early on in the process.”

  I inhale sharply, knowing we wouldn’t be able to go through that again. Losing Aria almost ruined our relationship, but we battled through. I’m not sure we’d survive it again.

  “I know this is a lot for you to take in, for both of you, and what I’m about to say isn’t going to be easy to hear. Crissie, you need to consider terminating the pregnancy before we begin treatment.”

  I don’t remember the journey back from the hospital. I don’t remember much about anything after the doctor told me I may have to terminate my pregnancy. He gave us the information we needed, then said he’d call us in a few days. Now, we’re back home, and I’ve no idea what to say or what to think.

  Can I really consider ending my pregnancy? The doctor seems to think if I don’t, I’ll lose the baby anyway when I start treatment, and I need to have treatment.

  Don’t I?

  We’ve wanted children almost from day one. When we got pregnant with Aria, it was the happiest time in our lives. Losing her was the hardest thing we’ve had to go through, but we came through it and we are stronger than ever. The cancer pretty much put a stop to us trying again, but even then, we always intended on trying for a fam
ily once treatment was complete and I got the all clear.

  That time is now.

  When I revealed to Cal that I was pregnant again, we were both so happy. Even though the pregnancy is in its early stages, we started making plans, even started looking for a bigger place to live. Now it seems that may have all been for nothing.

  “I can’t lose another baby, Cal,” I say quietly. “It would kill me. I can’t go through that again.”

  I turn to Cal, seeing him with his head in his hands. This is a decision we have to make together. It might be my body, but it’s our baby, and any decision made with affect both of us. Cal looks up, and I see in his eyes he’s as torn as I am.

  “I don’t want to lose the baby either, Cris, by miscarriage or termination, but at the same time, the alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.”

  I know what alternative he’s talking about is, and in an ideal world, it wouldn’t be an option I would ever consider. The problem is, we’re not living in an ideal world, and if neither of us wants to lose the baby, it might be the only option available to us.

  The doctor gave us all the information, but made it clear it wasn’t an option he would recommend due to the risks involved. I’m okay now, but by the time the baby is due, I might be too weak to have the c-section. I’ll need to bring the baby into the world. So, what we need to decide is, are we prepared to take that risk?

  Chapter 47

  Caleb

  November 2017

  “Well, Crissie, we’ve got the results from your latest scans, and I’m sorry to say it’s not good news. The cancer has spread to your pelvis, which explains the pain you’ve been having in your back and stomach. It’s pretty uncommon for this type of cancer to spread this quickly, but it does happen.”

  Crissie and I absorb what the doctor is telling us, our joined hands resting on her protruding belly. We were expecting him to say something like that. Ever since we decided to forgo treatment in favour of the baby, we always knew the cancer could spread.

  The doctor talked us through what kind of things Crissie could go through, and up until now, we’ve been quite lucky. She’s only been experiencing pain the last week or so, which is why the doctor insisted on having another scan.

  He’s been monitoring both Crissie and the baby closely since her new diagnosis. So far, the pregnancy is progressing as it should, and the baby is the right size for twenty weeks. We found out earlier in the week that we’re expecting another little girl, something Crissie and I were ecstatic about.

  We knew deciding to maintain the pregnancy rather than Crissie having treatment for her cancer was a big risk, but after we discussed everything, we both agreed that losing another baby wasn’t an option for us.

  Her oncologist told us that, as the cancer was stage two, there was still a chance that treatment could begin after Crissie has the baby. That is the hope we’re holding on to, even after what he’s just told us.

  “Okay, doctor, but everything is okay with the baby?”

  “The baby is doing well. She is the right size for how far along you are and the heartbeat is strong and steady. Crissie, I’d be remiss if I didn’t say this to you, even though I know what your answer will be. At twenty weeks, there is still time to terminate the pregnancy and begin treatment. The sooner we start treatment, the better your chances are.”

  “I know you’re only doing your job, doctor, and I appreciate you giving us all the information, but you’re right, you already know what the answer is. Cal and I are keeping this baby. In fact, we’d like to schedule the C-section now, if we can?”

  The surprise on the doctor’s face is evident, and I hope mine doesn’t match his. Cris and I discussed booking in the C-section before we left the flat this morning, but we hadn’t decided one way or the other. Seems Cris has decided for us.

  “If you want to do that, Crissie, we can do.” We watch as he checks Crissie’s chart before continuing, “Usually we can’t perform a C-section until thirty-nine weeks, which, if the previous doctor calculated your due date correctly, will be the nineteenth of February. Now, I want to advise you again, performing a C-section in your condition has a whole new set of risks. If you’re too weak to have the surgery, and judging by the rate your cancer is spreading, that’s a very real possibility, it places a higher risk on us losing you or the baby, or even both of you. Are you one hundred percent sure this is what you want to do?”

  The doctor looks between both of us, before Crissie turns to me, her eyes asking me the question, and for the first time, uncertainty creeps in. “Can you give us a day, doctor? I think this is something we need to discuss in more detail at home.”

  My eyes connect with Crissie’s, and I see the flash of confusion in them before she turns back to the doctor.

  “Of course, Caleb. Just give me a call tomorrow when you’ve decided, and we can take whatever action is necessary at that time. Do you have any other questions for me right now?”

  “No. Cris, do you?”

  Crissie shakes her head and we both stand, leaving the doctor’s office quickly. I know she is going to fire questions at me as soon as we’re outside the hospital and on our way home, and the truth is, I don’t know what to say to her.

  Surprisingly, she doesn’t say a word to me on the drive home, and I don’t know whether she’s pissed at me, or is just thinking about everything the doctor told us today. I find out which of those is right as soon as we walk into the flat.

  “What the hell, Cal? I thought we were on the same page in all of this?”

  “We are, Crissie, or at least we were.”

  “So what’s changed? Don’t you want the baby now? Our daughter?”

  “Of course I do, it’s just—”

  “Just what, Cal? Please tell me what’s going on in that head of yours right now as I’m confused.”

  “I don’t want to lose you, Cris!” I shout the words as loud as I can, before turning away from her and letting my head drop. I bend over and put my hands on my knees, breathing deeply. Just saying the words out loud has made me realise there is a very real chance I may lose Crissie. That thought alone cuts me so deep I can feel it right down to my soul.

  When I feel her hand on my back, I straighten and turn to her, seeing her expression has now softened as she looks at me. “You won’t lose me, Cal.”

  “How do you know that, Cris? The doctor said that if you’re too weak when it comes to you having the C-Section, you and the baby could die. I could lose you both, and I don’t think—no, I know I won’t be able to come back from that. You’re my everything, Crissie. Losing you would kill me. It would end me.” I fall down onto the sofa and Crissie sits next to me. I lower my head into my hands, trying to calm my racing pulse. She’s close but doesn’t touch me. I can already feel the divide forming between us.

  “So you want me to terminate the pregnancy?” I hear her voice crack as she says the words, and I feel the tears building up in my eyes. I don’t look at her when I speak the next words. I can’t see her reaction to what I’m about to say or it will break me. Part of me doesn’t believe I’m about to say it, but if we’re going to get through this, I need to be honest with her.

  “Cris, if you begin treatment now, there is every chance you’ll recover and then we can try again for another baby. We’re still young, there’s still time for us to have a family, but if you go in for that C-section and don’t come out of it…” I pause and take a few deep breaths. “We can try for another baby. I’ll never get another you. I don’t think I can close my eyes and you’re there, but when I open them again, you’re gone. I’m not strong enough, Cris. I can’t go on if you’re not by my side.”

  God, I feel like a right bastard saying this to her. The last thing I want is to make her feel guilty; for making her think she’s putting the baby before me. I want our daughter as much as she does, but I can’t risk losing her.

  “You’re not going to lose me, Cal. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “How can you s
ay that, Crissie? You don’t know what’s going to happen in four months time. You might be strong enough now, but the doctor said there’s a good chance you won’t be by the time you’re due to have the baby.” I’m breathing quickly now, my heart beating and my pulse racing. How can I make her understand what I’m feeling?

  “Cal, I don’t know what to say. You know how I feel about this baby. I can’t even contemplate killing her, because, let’s face it, that’s what we’d be doing. I understand your fears, believe me, I do. When the police told me about your attack, I was scared beyond belief. Just the thought of going on without you was enough to make me wonder how I could go on. Cal, look at me, please.”

  Taking a deep breath, I turn, the expression on her face almost breaking me. She is in just as much pain about this decision as I am.

  “You need to believe that I’ll be okay; that we’ll be okay. With everything we’ve been through; all the times we could have lost each other and we’re still here; we’re still together and we’re still strong. We’re stronger together, Cal. I get that you’re scared, Cal, but please, believe in us. Believe that we’ll get through this like we’ve got through everything life has thrown at us.”

  I inhale deeply and release the breath slowly. God, I hate it when she’s right. I can’t lose faith now. We’ve been through so much in the eleven years we’ve been together, but have come out the other side stronger than when we went in.

  “Just promise me one thing, Cris. If, when you have the C-section, the doctor says you’re too weak, you fight. You fight for me, you fight for our daughter, and you fight for yourself. Fight for us, Crissie, for our family.”

  I hold her gaze as I take her hand, squeezing it tightly in mine, almost willing her to feel how much I need her to fight for us.