Broken Series

by Dawn Pendleton

  “I don’t know,” I answered.

  This was how every single conversation went. We just couldn’t agree.

  “It’ll come to us,” Luke assured me. He knew that the argument bugged me, and the doctor was worried about my stress levels.

  My last appointment, the doc almost put me on bed rest. He agreed not to, so long as I took it easy for a few weeks. Premature labor was the biggest concern for my pregnancy, but I wasn’t too worried. I took two full weeks off work so that I could relax. With a big storm rolling in, Luke didn’t want me to be home alone, so I was riding shotgun while he plowed.

  “I’m hungry,” I said to change the subject.

  Luke laughed. “We’ll hit up the McDonald’s drive-thru on our way back through town,” he promised. He dropped the plow again, ready to make another swipe of the plow across the driveway he was plowing, when the pain hit me.

  Searing pain ripped through the right side of my stomach, causing me to gasp.

  “Mallory? What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know. My stomach hurts,” I told him between deep breaths. I grabbed my side, my worry going straight to the baby.

  Luke brought the plow back up and turned out of the driveway. He drove, without any direction at all, to the hospital. He pulled up to the curb of the Emergency Room and was out of the truck and had my door open before I could even get my seat belt off. He pulled me into his arms, carrying me into the hospital.

  The nurse at the ER desk rushed forward with a wheelchair. Luke begrudgingly put me in it, after a two-second argument with the nurse. She reassured him and he walked beside the chair as she wheeled me upstairs to the maternity department.

  My doctor was surprised to see us and I was barely in a hospital gown before he was knocking on the door to check on me. After a thorough examination, he looked upset. My stomach still hurt but it wasn’t as bad as it had been.

  “You’re in labor,” he said. “The pain you felt was a contraction.”

  “What do we do?” Luke asked. We both knew it was far too soon to have the baby. His or her lungs weren’t developed enough and if he or she were born, the baby wouldn’t have much of a chance to survive.

  “We’ve got an injection to stop the contractions,” he said, naming the drug, but my mind was already wondering how I would survive the loss of this child.

  After all I’d been through this past year, from the loss of my dad to the death of my best friend, I wasn’t emotionally ready to lose a baby, too. I took a deep breath, desperate to calm myself. I squeezed Luke’s hand. He stood next to my bed, hanging onto me for dear life. Neither of us was ready to lose our unborn child.

  “What if the shot doesn’t work?” Luke asked, voicing my thoughts aloud.

  “They’ll work,” the doctor confirmed.

  “Are you sure?” I asked, my voice not even sounding like my own.

  “I’ve been doing this for a lot of years, Mallory. You don’t need to worry. You and the baby will be absolutely fine. Once we get you settled, we’re going to get you that ultrasound so you know what you’re having, okay? We’ll take good care of you. So we’re going to get the contractions stopped and then get you hooked up to an IV, just to make sure you’re hydrated, and in case we need to give you another dose.”

  As soon as the doctor left the room, Luke turned to me. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so,” I answered, both hands resting on my still-small baby bump. “Don’t worry, Luke,” I said, taking his hand and bringing it to my belly.

  He took a deep breath, his hand relaxing as soon as he touched our child’s home. “I was so scared,” he admitted.

  Just then, the nurse came in with an IV bag and my stress spiked. Luke held my hand while the woman put in the IV and then went around the bed to give me a shot. I wasn’t afraid of needles, but two in less than ten minutes made me nervous.

  “Great job,” the nurse said to me with a smile when she finished. She patted my belly and then was gone.

  “This is going to be a long pregnancy, isn’t it?” I asked Luke.

  He chuckled. “At least I was with you. Imagine if you were home by yourself when that happened.”

  “No shit,” I agreed. “What if I can’t go back to work? I doubt the doc is going to let me off after this without being on bed rest.”

  “If you get put on bed rest, we’ll deal with it. I make enough to take care of us,” Luke said. I knew he was only trying to help, but I didn’t want to hear it.

  “I’ll figure out something I can do online, then. I’m not going to be one of those women who just sits home all day while you work. I don’t want to be taken care of.”

  Luke closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay. We’ll talk about it if the doctor says you need to go on bed rest. Let’s not worry about it right now.”

  “Fine,” I said to appease him. I leaned against the pillow on my bed and fell asleep.

  * * * * *

  Sometime later, Luke gently shook me awake.

  “Mal, they’re here to do an ultrasound,” he explained.

  I sat up, wiped my eyes, and pulled the blanket up a bit. I yanked on my gown to show my belly and then leaned back, relaxed. The meds were working, it seemed, since I hadn’t had another contraction. The ultrasound tech was a younger woman with bright red, curly hair. She gave me a smile and then squeezed an ungodly amount of that gel onto my belly.

  I gasped at the contact, though the gel was warmer than the last time I’d had it done.

  “So, we’re doing a gender check, but we also want to make sure that everything is good with the baby, too,” the woman explained as she pressed the wand to my stomach.

  After about ten seconds, the woman’s face changed drastically. Worry furrowed her brow. She pulled the ultrasound device away and stuck it in the holder. “I’ll be right back,” she announced and then ran from the room.

  I looked at Luke. “Oh no.”

  “Don’t worry, yet,” Luke said to me.

  “I can’t help it,” I whispered. Luke grabbed my hand and we held onto each other while we waited.

  When the tech and my doctor reentered the room, both with worried glances, fear gripped my heart. The doctor sat in the tech’s seat and put the device back to my stomach.

  “The tech wanted to check with me, Mallory, but don’t worry. We’re going to take care of everything,” the doctor assured me.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “We aren’t sure,” he answered.

  That answer scared me more than if he had said yes. If the doctor was unsure, then surely something wasn’t right. I forced myself to breathe, deep breaths that made me calm down, if only a little. I watched, petrified, as he waved the wand over my stomach, clicked a few buttons on the machine, and then a plethora of photographs spit out of the machine.

  The doctor finally removed the wand, cleaned it, and then gave me a towel to wipe the gel off my belly. The redheaded tech took the cart out of the room and, once she closed the door, the doctor turned to us.

  “We have good news and bad news,” the doctor announced. “The good news is, the baby is fine, and you’ll be having a beautiful baby boy.” He gave us a second to breath while we processed the information. “The bad news is, there isn’t enough amniotic fluid in the womb for the baby to stay healthy for the next few months. We’ll need you to deliver by the end of the week in order to save the baby. If you go much longer than that, you’ll risk brain damage, and possibly even death.”

  I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. I just sat there, unmoving, while Luke asked questions and the doctor answered. After a few minutes, Luke looked at me.

  “Mallory, do you have any questions?”

  I still couldn’t speak so I shook my head.

  “Alright. Then we’ll schedule the delivery for first thing tomorrow morning,” the doctor said. His words snapped me out of my daze, but I didn’t say anything until he left the room.

  “Tomorrow? He wants me to have the baby
tomorrow?” My voice was high-pitched, and I knew it must annoy him, but I couldn’t care. “I can’t have the baby yet!”

  “Mallory, it’s necessary. He’s going to have the neonatal doctor come visit so we can have a plan in place once he’s born,” Luke explained.

  In my state of shock, I’d missed all of that. I gulped, trying to force down the lump in my throat. “I’m not ready for this,” I told him.

  Luke held my hands in his. “I’m not either, but we can do this. We just need to be strong for our little guy.”

  “Our little guy. We’re having a boy,” I said, my voice flat.

  “That’s right.” Luke sounded more excited than worried, and I knew I should mimic his feelings, but I was too afraid of losing my son.

  “I’m scared, Luke,” I admitted.

  “I know. I am, too. But everything is going to be fine. We didn’t go through everything we’ve been through this past year for it to end up with us losing another person in our lives. I promise you, Mallory. Our boy will be strong, just like his mother.”

  “Hopefully he’s as stubborn as she is, too,” I muttered, knowing that in the past year, I’d done a lot of running.

  I spent the last few years before I moved home avoiding issues that needed to be taken care of, and I wasn’t that young girl anymore. I was a strong woman, just like Luke said. And, even if it killed me, I would be strong for our son.

  * * * * *

  The neonatal doctor, who insisted we call him Gray, was young, far younger than my OB/GYN. He knew his shit, though, and for that, I was grateful. He explained everything to us, from start to finish, and then took the time to answer all our questions, as if he had all the time in the world.

  “So Luke Junior will be in our NICU for several weeks. I know it can be hard to be away from a child, but, I promise, he will be in the best hands possible. We’ll give him plenty of time to develop his lungs and heart, and once he’s done that, he’ll move into the pediatric department. Between science and technology, a premature birth, even one this early, isn’t a death sentence anymore. We’ve got lots of doctors and equipment in Portland to keep your son healthy.”

  “Wait, Portland?” I asked.

  “Well, yes, he’ll be at Mercy Hospital, which is where you’ll have to deliver, too, under the care of our professionals. This small-town hospital isn’t going to be able to take care of your son the way he needs,” Gray informed us.

  Mercy Hospital was over an hour away. There was no way I’d be able to be away from my son for any length of time, which meant we were going to have to get a hotel near the hospital so that we were never more than a few minutes away.

  “We’ll figure it out,” Luke promised me, picking up on my raging emotions. “Thank you so much, Gray.”

  “Of course. I know this is all scary, and definitely new, but everything should be fine. We’ll transport you via ambulance to Mercy this afternoon,” Gray explained. “I’ll be back in a bit and we’ll have a more definite time.”

  Then he was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts. And Luke, of course. Neither of us were ready to speak, though. Our lives had changed so much from this morning, when we were laughing and happy. Giving birth early, possibly losing our son; it was all too much.

  So Luke climbed up on the tiny hospital bed, wrapped his arms around me, and we just held each other in silence, both preoccupied with our thoughts. The next few days would challenge us, as a couple, as parents, and as people. I hoped we were ready.

  Ch Two

  Luke

  The news was a shock, but given the bad luck that had hit us this past year, I really should have expected it. Mallory was strong, but if something happened to our boy, I wasn’t so sure she would bounce back. I’d seen it happen to women who miscarried, and now she was going to actually deliver our son and then put him in an incubator. What if something goes wrong? What if he’s mentally disabled? What if he dies? My thoughts were uncontrolled as I tried to get a grip.

  No matter what, if our son was alive, I would be grateful. And if he was happy and healthy and got to grow up? I’d be down on my knees thanking the good Lord above. But the negative thoughts consumed me. I didn’t tell Mallory my fears. She was already freaking out; I didn’t want to worry her any more. Instead, I gave her words of encouragement. I told her everything would be fine, and she accepted every word I said, even though neither of us had any idea what the next few days would hold for us.

  That night, she was transferred to Mercy and we were separated. I didn’t like the fact that I couldn’t ride with her in the ambulance, but when Gray mentioned that we would need to have a vehicle in Portland once Mallory was all healed up, I relented.

  After Mallory was safely tucked into the ambulance, I drove my truck home, changed my clothes, packed a bag for us, and grabbed the hospital bag Mallory already had ready to go in the baby room. We weren’t ready for a baby room, yet; the room was ridiculously bare. I would need to get on that, depending on how things turned out at the hospital. It hurt my heart to even think that way, but the truth was, there were high chances of us losing this baby.

  I dumped all the bags into the back of Mallory’s SUV and then started it up. We didn’t even have a car seat. I decided there was nothing I could do right then, and, when the time was right, we would take care of it. I ran back into the house and called Wolfe.

  “What’s up?” he answered on the first ring.

  “Hey, Mallory’s going into labor,” I said in a rush.

  “What? That can’t be safe –”

  “It’s not. Just listen. There’s not enough fluid around the baby and if they leave him in there too long, his brain could be damaged because of the lack of oxygen,” I explained, just like Gray had explained to us. “I need you guys to keep an eye on the house and find Baker. He’s been MIA the last few days. When you and Gabby got back together, he had a real hard time, especially since you guys are like a pretty little pre-made family now. But anyway, I’m heading out to Mercy now, which is where she’ll be for the duration. I’ll keep you updated, okay?” I didn’t give him time to answer and hung up, shoving my cell in my pocket.

  I remembered, only barely, that I needed cell phone chargers. I ran to our room to grab them. The photo on Mallory’s nightstand stopped me. It was a picture of Joe, Mallory’s father. I actually took the picture two summers ago, before Joe was mostly bedridden. It was the most vibrant he’d been that whole year, even smiling for it as he raked up some leaves in the front yard.

  When I saw him smiling at me, surrounded by the fall foliage, I felt an inner peace wash over me, and I knew, absolutely knew, that everything would work out. Joe would watch over our baby and keep him safe.

  I smiled back at the picture, grateful for having had him in my life the last few years. Even when Mallory was out of my life, I always had Joe. And it was his sickness that brought Mallory back to me, his death that made her realize she still wanted to be with me, and his letter after his death that showed her that I was the right choice.

  I left the house, ready to face the trials ahead.

  * * * * *

  The drive to the hospital went by in a flash, and I didn’t even remember making the trip. I parked in the parking lot and then walked into the reception area.

  “Can I help you?” the woman at the desk asked.

  “Mallory Wells,” I said, my voice trembling a little.

  “Of course. Third floor, room three-eighteen,” she said after a few clicks on her keyboard. I was down the hall and in the elevator before she even looked up.

  I had a moment’s regret as I wondered if Mallory would have liked some flowers or a teddy bear from the gift shop, but I brushed it off. First and foremost, she would want me nearby, holding her hand and keeping her calm.

  On the third floor, I took a left, following the wall sign, and found room three-eighteen. I didn’t bother knocking. I burst in, surprising the doctor and nurse, both of whom started to tell me to get out. Mallory’s voice
, barely above a whisper, dominated theirs.

  “Luke,” she breathed, the relief and tension easing out of her shoulders from her spot on the bed. She gave me a wan smile, the effort causing her pain, I could tell.

  “Are you hurt?” I asked, pushing past the doctor and taking Mallory’s hand.

  “A little. The contractions started again in the ambulance, and they didn’t want to try to stop them this time, since they want me to deliver. Looks like he might be coming today instead of tomorrow. Gray said he’ll be here in an hour. He had another patient to see in Casper before he could drive up, but he’s on his way now. He’s going to be the one to deliver our little man.”

  I listened to her voice, not really believing her. I was going to be a dad today. Most likely, anyway. It was terrifying but exhilarating, too. I gulped, giving her a short nod. I didn’t trust myself to speak. The joy I was experiencing was just too overwhelming for me to think of anything but the baby that would probably be born today.

  I glanced at my watch: February fourteenth. The day would forever be embedded in my mind as the best day of my life. I always thought my best day ever would be the day I married Mallory, but I doubted that would change the meaning of this day. We were hoping for a fall wedding, long after the baby was due, because Mallory wanted to have some time to get ‘her body back.’ It didn’t matter to me what she looked like, though. She was carrying my son and however her body looked, I would worship it and her forever. She was mine and she was giving me the greatest gift, sacrificing so many things in order to do so.

  I held her hand, listening intently while the doctor explained a few things about what would happen after she gave birth.

  “If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask,” he was saying.

  I found my voice. “What are the dangers for Mallory?”

  “There are risks, especially if there are any complications, but we are going to keep an eye on her, and currently, all her vitals look fantastic, as do the baby’s. Mallory’s doing a wonderful job keeping herself calm so she doesn’t upset the baby.” The doctor smiled at her, and she smiled back.