by Susan Gable
“What’s going on?” Finn asked. What the hell was an LDRP room?
Bethany held up a hand while she repeated her demands, then hung up the phone. She strode back to the exam room, Finn on her heels. Just before they reached it, he grabbed her by the arm. “Beth! Tell me what’s happening. ‘Oh crap’ isn’t something I imagine you usually say to a patient.”
“Finn, I can’t—”
He squeezed gently. “It’s my baby. That baby is a Hawkins. And my thirteen-year-old daughter’s life depends on this baby.”
Bethany’s eyes grew wider. Bewilderment gave way to sympathy. “I wondered if it was a savior sibling. I’ll do my best, Finn.” She shook her head. “But it’s not good. Come on. I’ll explain it to you both.”
Amelia lifted her head when he followed his sister into the exam room. She tugged at the sheet covering her body. “I don’t want him in here—”
“Keep your head down, Amelia. I mean it. Don’t move. This is important, so lie still and listen. You have an incompetent cervix. That means it’s opening already, without contractions. When I examined you, I felt a foot.”
Elke stroked Amelia’s shoulder.
Amelia sucked in a deep breath, face blanching the color of the sheet—no easy feat given that her head pointed toward the floor. “The baby’s coming now?”
“Not if I can help it. The sac is still intact. What I want to do is called cervical cerclage. I’m going to sew your cervix shut to keep that baby inside, where he belongs. Though at twenty-six weeks, there’s about an eighty percent rate of survival, there can also be a lot of complications for the baby. Why risk it if we don’t have to?”
“If—if it doesn’t work, and the baby comes now, will there be enough cord blood to transplant into Jordan?”
Bethany shook her head. “I’m not certain, but I doubt it. The size of the baby relates to the volume of cord blood.”
Finn’s heart pounded against his ribs. Sweat beaded across his forehead. If she lost this child, then Jordan…
“We need to keep you tilted like this for a while and let gravity pull the baby farther into the uterus. I’ll be monitoring you for any contractions for several hours, too. Once an ultrasound confirms that the baby is back where we need him to be, I’ll move you to an OR and stitch your cervix.”
“Dr. Hawkins?” a man called from the hallway.
Bethany popped her head out the door. “Down here. Hurry up.”
Finn automatically reached for Amelia’s hand. She stared up at him, tears welling in her eyes, teeth pinching her lower lip. For a moment her fingers lay limp in his. Then she squeezed so hard she could have cracked a walnut.
“Don’t tell Jordan yet. I don’t want her worrying needlessly.”
“Don’t worry about Jordan. I…we’ll take care of her. This family takes care of its own. And like it or not, she’s family.”
CHAPTER FIVE
SEVERAL AGONIZING HOURS ticked by, broken by Elke’s occasional visits to the labor and delivery family waiting room—where Finn had been exiled because Amelia wouldn’t let him be with her—to provide updates. The Hawkins family grapevine hadn’t taken long to kick in, especially as Finn himself had contacted Greg, and now several of his family waited with him. The Hawkinses did take care of their own.
In one of the chairs that dotted the perimeter, Kara focused on the screen of an ebook reader, glancing at him every time he strode past. Derek and Greg, undoubtedly bored out of their minds, sprawled on one of the back-to-back, blindingly yellow couches that occupied the middle of the room, leaving a wide pathway to pace between them and the chairs.Finn circled the room again. As he rounded the sofa’s corner, Greg stretched out a leg, blocking him.
“Sit down for two seconds, would you? You’re making everyone in here more stressed.”
“If it were Shannon in there, would you be sitting down?”
“That’s different. I love—”
“Pretend it’s a year ago. You barely know her.” Greg and Shannon’s wedding was in a few weeks. “Pretend she’s pregnant with your kid, to save the life of your other kid, and you don’t know what’s going on.”
Derek, a widower with three kids of his own, elbowed Greg. “Leave him alone. One of these days you’ll understand. Pregnancy makes men crazy, too.” He grabbed Greg’s jeans, pulled his leg out of the way. “Pace away, fish.”
Greg glanced past Finn and grimaced. “Uh-oh. Brace yourself. Mom just walked through the door, and judging by the look on her face, your ass is grass, man.”
Finn turned as his mother stormed into the room. He drew a deep breath.
“I figured I’d find you boys here with him. Kara, I didn’t expect you were in on this.”
Kara’s lips moved in protest, but before she could form a coherent word, their mom held up her hand. “Why do you even try to keep stuff from me? Two of my daughters, my daughters with medical skills, both ditched Sunday dinner before it got started. Two of my sons didn’t even show up. Two more of my sons, after receiving numerous text messages—” his mother glared at Derek and Greg; she hated cell phone usage during meals “—ran out like the house was on fire as soon as the meal was over. Leaving all the children for Shannon to deal with, I might add.”
“Mom, I—”
But his mother shook her head. “Finnegan Rand Hawkins, what were you thinking? A sperm donor?”
Heat flushed his face. He cleared his throat. “Obviously, you’ve heard the whole story, then.”
“Don’t blame Hayden. He did his best. He wouldn’t answer his cell phone, or the phone at the restaurant. So I went over there. I’ve already met my granddaughter. What Hayden didn’t spill, Jordan did. That poor child is frantic about her mother and the baby. What she’s not saying is how scared she is about herself.”
Finn puffed up his cheeks, blew out the air.
“A bone marrow transplant.” His mother’s voice quavered. Her blue eyes watered.
Finn pulled her into a bear hug. “So you understand why I agreed to a second child with Amelia, right?”
She nodded against his shoulder. “I do.”
“Then I’m forgiven?”
“I didn’t say that.” She broke away from his embrace. “What you did has serious repercussions, Finn.”
Understatement of the year. “Obviously, Mom. Can we save that lecture for later?” Perhaps years later? Maybe for Jordan’s college graduation? “Where’s Dad?”
“Your father decided to stop in the chapel downstairs. He’ll be up shortly.”
That drove the seriousness of the situation home for Finn. That Michael Hawkins, a man of quiet faith, had decided it warranted a visit to the chapel…
Finn sank to the edge of a chair, leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. The heels of his palms pressed against his cheekbones as he covered his face.
Any minute now he would wake up to discover that the past twenty-four hours, from meeting Jordan, to teaching her how to bake brownies the way his nanna had taught him, to this very moment when the fate of both children hung in the balance, had been just another of his who-is-my-child nightmares.
Any minute now…
His mother eased down beside him, rubbing his back.
The room grew quieter. The weight of his siblings’ stares made the hair on his neck prickle.
From the direction of the doorway, someone cleared a throat. “Finn?”
Bethany. He rubbed his face, then scrambled to his feet. “What?”
At some point she’d donned a white doctor coat over her jeans and soft pink shirt, adding to her air of authority. Adrenaline coursed through him. He wiped his palms across his pants.
His sister jerked her head toward the hall. “A word with you?”
Shithelldamn. What could she possibly want that she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—say in front of the family?
“Be right back,” he told them as he hustled out the door. He followed her a few steps down the corridor before she turned to face him.
“Everything that can go right at the moment is. Gravity has worked in our favor, and the baby has moved back down into the uterus, away from the cervix.”
Finn’s legs trembled with relief. “You couldn’t say that in there? You scared me to death with the top secret stuff.”
“I’m not supposed to be talking to you about it at all, Finn. Privacy laws?”
“I’m the father, damn it.”
“As long as that baby stays inside, where we want him, you have no rights at all. It’s her body, her choices, and you’ve got no say.”
“If he’d been born a few hours ago, and was in the baby intensive care unit—”
“NICU.”
“Whatever. Then I’d have a say?”
“Yep.”
“That sucks.”
“Life often does.” Bethany reached into the pocket of her coat. “But since I’m flouting the rules for you, Beginagain, I figured I’d go all the way.” She pulled out several small pieces of white paper. “Ultrasound pictures. It’s a boy.”
“A boy?” He accepted the glossy sheets from her, turned them in several directions.
Bethany reached over, putting them right side up, and pointed. “Here’s the proof, right here. These are his legs, and this is…well, you know what it is.”
At her fingertip, he could make out two smallish blobs and one larger one. A boy. Amelia carried his son.
Warmth spread across Finn’s chest. Followed quickly by a constriction around his ribs that made it hard to breathe.
“I’m taking her into the OR in a few minutes.”
That didn’t help. He shoved the ultrasound pictures in his pocket. “What are the risks?”
“Plenty. Including the fact that I could accidentally nick the amniotic sac.”
“That would be bad?”
“That would be very bad.”
His stomach knotted. “Okay. Don’t do that.”
“I don’t plan to.”
“Good.” Finn took her arm. “Thanks, Bethy. For everything.”
“Don’t thank me yet. This is only the first step, and the odds aren’t in our favor. But I’m going to do my best.” She gave him a quick hug. “I’ll send word when she’s in recovery.”
“Wait.” He pulled her back. “Can I see her before you take her in?”
His sister shook her head sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Finn. She’s made it very clear that you’re not allowed in there. That’s one highly independent woman. She reminds me a little bit of Shannon.”
“How so?”
“Keeping everyone at arm’s length.” Bethany sighed. “This is going to be really hard on her. A princess who expects people to wait on her hand and foot would have a much easier time.” She patted his elbow. “I have to go. I’ll keep you in the loop.”
He watched her stride down the hallway, calm, confident. In control.
He’d give anything to feel the same way. He’d never felt more helpless in his life, not even when Marianna, his second wife, had filed for divorce. He wanted to do something, anything, to tip the odds in their favor. No wonder Amelia had been so driven to have this second child, to take action of her own to save Jordan’s life.
Waiting around, doing nothing, sucked.
AMELIA STRUGGLED TO STAY wrapped in the soothing fog of the medication they’d given her. No worries here. No stress. Just peaceful, blissful nothingness.
Vaguely, she remembered being told the operation had gone well. Being returned to the pretty labor and delivery room from the surgical recovery room.At least she thought she remembered. Maybe she’d made it all up?
The whoosh of the fetal monitor indicated the baby’s heartbeat was strong and fast. Reassured, she let the medication pull her back into sleep.
The next time she surfaced, a man’s voice, low but animated, overpowered the sounds of the monitor.
“…look, kid…” A pause. “Dill. I’m not going to be around much. And given my track record, that could be for the best. But since I’m not going to be around to tell you what to do in the future, I want you to listen to me now. As your father—”
Father? Still loath to wake up completely, Amelia cracked open one eye. Finn sat in a chair at the side of her bed, leaning over her stomach.
Her still nicely rounded stomach.
“—I’m telling you, stay in your room.” He laughed softly. “You’ve got an important job, Dill. You’re a hero before you’re even here. Your sister is counting on you. It’s not really fair, but then, so much in life isn’t. Hard truth to learn before you’re even born. And some people would think it’s a horrible thing, bringing you into the world to save your sister’s life. I don’t know your mother all that well, but I can tell you this—she loves your sister like crazy, and I can’t help but think that means she’s going to love you just as much. Maybe even more. But we won’t tell Jordan that because it would hurt her feelings.”
Amelia’s nose tingled.
Even some parents of other kids waiting for a BMT had taken her to task for “playing God” and having another child specifically to save Jordan.
How could she not do everything in her power to save her? She was Jordan’s mother. It was her duty to do anything and everything she could…because the idea of losing her was too much to bear.
And the fact that Finn knew how much she already loved this new baby… She sniffled.
He jerked his gaze to her face. “Hey. You’re awake? Oh, now, don’t cry. It’s okay.” He reached over to the bedside table, pulled out a tissue and pressed it into her hand. “Dill is doing great. Everything went well.”
“D-dill?” She dabbed at her eyes. It had to be the shock of the surgery, the remnants of the medication, making her so unsteady. So emotional. She struggled to swallow the lump. No crying. Especially not in front of Finn.
She’d show no weakness to the man who, only hours ago, had threatened, however veiled, to fight for the child she carried.
He grinned. “Yeah, Dill. I didn’t want to keep calling him kid.”
“Him?” Clarity began to dawn. She crushed the tissue in her hand. “Him?”
Finn’s grin got larger and his eyes twinkled. “Yeah. It’s a boy.”
“Arggh.” She tossed the tissue at him. It bounced off his ear and onto the floor. “I didn’t want to know that! It was supposed to be a surprise.”
“Oh.” The spark faded from his eyes, and the dimple on the right side of his mouth vanished, calling attention to the five o’clock shadow that stubbled his jaw. “Sorry. I didn’t realize that.”
She sighed. “Too late now. But why Dill?”
One corner of his mouth twitched. “Well…a food nickname sorta came natural to me. Dill pickle? You’re pregnant. What do pregnant women crave?”
“Ah. Okay. Except I don’t crave dill pickles.”
“What do you crave?”
“Potato chip and marshmallow fluff sandwiches on white bread.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Lovely combo. But potato doesn’t have the same ring as Dill. Can’t call a boy Fluff, either. He’ll be scarred for life before he’s born. Chip?”
Someone rapped on the door, and Dr. Hawkins called out, “Amelia?” His sister scowled when she saw Finn planted in the rocking chair he’d dragged over to the bedside. “You’re not supposed to be in here.”
“It’s okay. He’s fine,” Amelia said.
The woman looked skeptical.
“Really. He’s not bothering me.”
Her eyebrows rose. She strode to the fetal monitor to study the flashing display. “The baby looks good right now. Strong heartbeat, you’re not having any contractions. I’m pleased to say we made it over the first hurdle.”
“The first?” Amelia groped for the controls to the bed. Trying to carry on a conversation while lying flat on your back, with people standing next to you, was uncomfortable.
Dr. Hawkins took the rectangular box from her hand just as she found the up button. “No, sorry. You’re no
t allowed to be upright yet. You have to stay absolutely flat for now.”
“Ugh. Okay. How long is ‘for now’?”
“If everything goes perfectly, I’ll remove the stitches about a week before your due date. You can get up for occasional trips to the bathroom, but—”
“A week before my due date?” The shriek in her voice made Finn wince. “That’s three months! Please tell me you’re joking. And by the way, it’s not a funny joke.”
“Sorry. If you want to keep that baby in there, you need to keep as little pressure as possible on your cervix. Stitches are great, but not enough if you go running around, carrying on life as normal.”
“But…but…” Millions of thoughts, questions, crowded her brain. “I have a practice to maintain.”
“You don’t have a partner?”
“No. I made arrangements with a colleague in the next town to cover my patients when I have the baby, and when I take Jordan to Portland for the transplant, but…” She looked up at Finn’s sister. “My patients and staff are extremely supportive of Jordan and her battle, but my practice might not recover from this much time off.”
“Jordan won’t recover without the transplant, right? She’ll die?”
Amelia blew out a long breath. “Right.”
“You’ve already gone through so much to make her survival possible. You can get through the rest. I’ll be keeping you here for another day or two to monitor everything. After that, I’ll see you once a week. We’ll do an ultrasound at least once a month, more if I think we need to.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Amelia pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “What do you mean, you’ll see me? You said you have to keep me in the hospital only for another day or two. I have an ob-gyn in Maine. You said I have to stay flat on my back, but surely I can get home somehow. Medical transport. Something…”
The doctor shared a look with Finn before stepping closer to the bed. “I wouldn’t recommend it. Air transportation is risky because of the changes of pressure. And a sixteen-hour ride in an ambulance?” She shook her head. “I’d highly advise against it. Too much can go wrong too quickly.”