Nevertheless, she shouldn’t be nervous. We’re artists. We perform when called to perform. I’ve done shows with no sound check and just one guitar. She’s had twenty-four hours to prepare for this.
“Would you please do your job?” I asked Apryl. “You’re her manager, right?”
Apryl rolled her eyes, which is one of the reasons I can’t stand this chick. She has such a fuckin’ attitude problem.
“What do you want me to do?” Apryl asked. “You sprang a performance on her with one day to prep. Of course she’s nervous.”
“Do I look like I give a shit? It’s not my job to calm down your client. Stop calling me for this kind of stuff. Shay, you’re an artist. You wanna be the next Beyoncé then you better go out there and sing like you’re auditioning for Babyface or Puffy. I’m going back to my hotel to get ready. I’ll see you later.”
“You don’t have to be so mean, Aiden!” Apryl yelled at my back.
“Kiss my ass, Apryl! Take care of your damn client before I call your boss!”
The private party was scheduled to start in an hour. Thankfully, everything was being handled by Final Hour’s management team. Joey and I didn’t have to plan anything. That’s how we like to do things. Artists have a management team for a reason. All the label needs to do is cut the check and this party was a pretty big check.
My management team was sitting in the Sprinter waiting to take me back to my hotel. When I climbed in, Roxy and Tracy were looking grim in the face. Roxy was finishing up a phone call.
“Who died?” I joked.
“Not funny, Aiden,” Tracy replied, leaving to me to believe that someone had actually died.
I sat back in my seat and ran my hands over my face. Whatever happened was about to ruin my night.
“Alright, here’s what we know,” Roxy said before I started freaking out. “Dr. Margolis just admitted Sunny.”
“What?” I yelled. “What the fuck happened?”
I wasn’t prepared for their bad news to have anything to do with Sunny, not with me being all the way across the country.
“Stop yelling at me,” Roxy said. Her voice was shaky. She was scared but trying hard not to show it. “Sunny’s water broke. Her contractions are coming very slowly, about forty-five minutes to an hour apart. She passed out at her studio. Her blood pressure and heart rate are too high and they’re running some tests to see if she had a seizure. I already called PenStar. They’ll have a Lear ready for us in an hour. I know you don’t mind but I also charteredd a jet for Peaches and Jermaine. Dr. Margolis wants to give her Pitocin but will wait until you get there.”
I wasn’t really listening anymore. Her water broke? It was too early. Dr. Margolis said she might have to do a C-section at thirty-seven weeks. That was a whole two weeks away. Five weeks early doesn’t seem safe.
Roxy switched seats and took the empty one beside me. I’ve only had a couple of full-blown panic attacks so I know the signs and so does Roxy. I haven’t had a panic attack in years but now I felt like I was about to pass out and she knew it. If there ever was an appropriate time to completely lose my shit, it was now with my fiancée in labor five weeks early and me not only not speaking to her but on the other side of the damn country.
Roxy gently placed her hand on my shoulder and turned my head to face her. “Aiden,” she spoke calmly. “I need you to breathe. Take a couple of deep breaths.”
All I felt was an intense amount of pain all over, like something was squeezing me into a ball. My body started tingly and the space around me started to spin. It felt like ice was running through my veins and someone was choking me. My arms and legs started tingling because I was barely getting enough oxygen.
Roxy’s voice was muffled, as if she was calling out to me from a long distance. I tried to focus on the sound and breathe until I heard her clearly.
“Aiden, she’s okay. Do you hear me? We’re going to get you there and Sunny’s going to be fine.”
I put all my trust in Roxy’s words because I had no other choice. I hadn’t spoken to Sunny in almost two weeks. I texted her a few times to let her know that I was alive but that’s it. I was taking a break from our dysfunction, but I never expected my absence would cause her to go into labor. I couldn’t just sit there completely helpless.
“Go ahead and call her,” Tracy said. “She probably needs to hear your voice before we get in the air.”
I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my phone. I had urgent texts from both of my sisters and a couple from Sunny. I called her pone and hoped that she was able to answer it instead of her assistant or one of her friends.
“Hey,” Sunny said. Her voice was groggy and tired. She sounded terrible.
“Hey. What’s going on? You okay? Is Winter okay? What happened?”
Slowly, as if she was having a hard time talking, Sunny explained what happened in her studio. I could tell that she was trying not to cry. She was already in a risky situation. Neither one of us wanted the situation to escalate.
“Sunny, remember what I said, okay? I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’m on my way. And if Dr. Margolis has to deliver Winter tonight, then she’s just going to be born tonight and she’ll be fine.”
“Please don’t be mad,” Sunny whispered. “I just wanted to—”
“Stop. I’m not mad. You didn’t do anything wrong, baby.”
I found it strangely ironic that a few minutes ago, Roxy had been trying to coax me out of a full-blown panic attack and now I was doing the same for Sunny.
“Sorry I’ve been such a dick these past few weeks,” I told Sunny. “I didn’t mean to stress you out.”
Sunny forced a laugh. “You’re okay. I knew you didn’t mean it. You love me.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Just get here, please. We’ll talk about everything after.”
“I’m on my way. I love you, Sunny.”
“I know.”
At least we still have that. And in a few hours, we’ll have another daughter. Whatever is happening with us will have to wait.
***
When I walked into Sunny’s private birthing room five and a half hours after I left Charlotte, the air was thick and tense, like I’d just walked into a funeral home. Mom, Erica, and Delilah were sitting quietly in chairs facing Sunny’s bed. Summer was sitting on my mom’s lap and hopped down when she saw me.
“Mommy’s sick,” she innocently explained.
Her mother did look sick. Sunny was pale and looked like she was running a fever. Strands of hair were sticking to her damp forehead. She was hooked up to more machines and monitors than I could count. Two separate IV needles were inserted into her arm. Sunny’s eyes were closed when I walked over to the bed and sat on the edge but I could tell that she wasn’t asleep.
“Babe,” I said and stroked her cheek. Her eyes opened slowly and a weak smile appeared.
“You made it.” Her voice was slow and labored.
“Are you stoned?” I looked at my mom. “Did they give her something?”
“A mild sedative. You need to speak with Dr. Margolis,” Mom replied.
I looked at Sunny. Her eyes were closed again. “I’ll be right back.”
Determined to find out why my fiancée looked like she was dying, I, along with her parents, walked out of the room determined to find a doctor or nurse who could explain what the hell was going on. We approached the nurses’ station first.
“Oh my goodness,” one of the nurses said. “I was supposed to page Dr. Margolis as soon as you got here, Mr. Tyler. I didn’t see you come in.”
“That’s fine. Could you get her now? I need to know what’s going on with Sunny.”
The five-minute wait for Dr. Margolis felt like another five hours had passed. Peaches clung to Jermaine with a terrified expression on her face. I just leaned against the wall with my hands in my pockets trying not to let my worry show on my face. Whatever was happening, I felt like I should be in the room with Sunny, not stan
ding by the nurses’ station waiting for her doctor.
Sara, dressed in her white coat with her nametag and hospital credentials clipped to the pocket, walked towards us alongside Dr. Margolis. Sara doesn’t specialize in obstetrics. She’s an ER doctor. I was glad that she was on duty when Sunny was admitted. Her presence was comforting.
When the two doctors stopped in front of us, no introductions were needed. The Russells, especially Peaches, had been to just as many doctor appointments as I had so Dr. Margolis got straight to it.
“She’s in full labor. It looks like she may have been since some time last night. She said she had some pain but it was sporadic and didn’t feel like contractions. She planned to tell me about it at her appointment. The baby is doing quite well considering the circumstances. We did an ultrasound and an NST when an hour ago. Her heartbeat is strong. Her lungs are strong. She’s a little over five pounds. If Sunny’s blood pressure stabilizes, I’d like to have her try a natural delivery. I think mother and daughter can handle it. Plus, Sunny’s already dilated six centimeters.”
“Why does she look like she’s dying then?” Peaches asked shortly. I was thinking the exact same thing. “And did she have a seizure?”
“I’m not going to say that Sunny is fine. She didn’t have a seizure though. This delivery isn’t going to be a walk in the park for her, I can say that. We knew she was high risk coming in. That’s why we gave her an epidural a couple of hours ago. The pain had elevated her heart rate and BP to a risky level. We’re monitoring it closely. Since her water already broke, it shouldn’t be long.”
“Don’t let my baby die trying to deliver that baby,” Jermaine said sternly. “If you even have the slightest concern that natural delivery may be too risky, do the cesarean. I don’t want you taking any chances with my daughter’s life.”
“Whoa!” I said. “Who said anything about dying?” I looked at the doctor. “She’s not going to die, right?”
“We’ve read about this,” Peaches answered instead of the doctor. “Women with preeclampsia are dying during childbirth at an astronomical rate. Don’t play with my child’s life.”
Dr. Margolis’ expression was a mix of annoyance and arrogance while she explained to Sunny’s parents that she couldn’t risk a C-section at this point because even giving Sunny a local anesthetic at this point could be detrimental.
“Like I said, we’re monitoring Sunny very closely. If or when the situation changes, we’ll do what’s best for her and the baby.”
The doctor gave us that generic smile that doctors give as reassurance that they know what they’re talking about and that we should feel confident in their treatment plans. I live with two doctors; I know that look. When Dr. Margolis and Sunny’s parents started walking to Sunny’s room, I grabbed my sister’s coat and pulled her away from the group.
“Tell me the truth,” I demanded. “She’s not doing well, is she?”
“She’s okay,” Sara assured me. “She had a Pitocin drip that was causing pretty strong contractions. We wanted that to happen but had to take her off. She’s out of the danger zone now, Aiden. I believe she’s going to be fine. The epidural is lowering her BP so she’s not going to have a stroke or heart attack in the delivery room.”
I trusted Sara more than any other doctor. If she was saying that Sunny was going to be okay then she was going to be fine. I didn’t have to worry.
Chapter 28: Castles Made of Sand
IT TOOK ANOTHER twelve hours of pacing the room anxiously, explaining to Sunny that she couldn’t get out of bed, and denying all of her angry requests for food before we started to see any real action. As her blood pressure and heart rate gradually returned to a somewhat normal rate, she began to feel and look better. Her contractions were coming at a consistent rate. Although she was supposed to be numb from the waist down, she insisted that she could feel each one.
This labor was so different from when she had Summer. She had a completely natural delivery and was a total pain in the ass. This time, she was medicated and unreasonable. She wanted the epidural removed. She wanted a C-section then she didn’t want a C-section. Her decisions were all over the place.
After Dr. Margolis did the last cervix check, a cheer went up in the room when she joyfully announced that Sunny was fully dilated and ready to start pushing. She ordered everyone except me and Peaches out of the room.
From that point on, everything moved so fast. All visitors were replaced with medical personnel who were keeping track of Sunny and Winter’s vital signs while Dr. Margolis encouraged Sunny to continue pushing. I stayed at the top of Sunny’s bed holding her hand while she grunted and pushed. I couldn’t even pretend to coach her because everything I knew about labor and delivery I learned from television. Sunny didn’t feel the need to attend birthing classes because she’d ‘been through all this before’ like she was a pro. The fact that I hadn’t must have slipped her mind.
Forty-five minutes after the first push, Dr. Margolis held the tiny red-faced wailing baby girl while I snipped at the grayish umbilical cord. The whole messy ordeal was over. According to the nurses, despite how she looked, Sunny was doing fine. It was 7:46 a.m. on January 19th and Winter was here. She was five pounds, eight ounces and twenty inches long. After they cleaned all the gross shit off her, and she rested in Sunny’s arms, I could see that she looked exactly like her big sister.
I couldn’t even speak. Seeing my daughter enter the world was an indescribable experience. I wanted to cry but Jermaine was in the room. I don’t shed tears in front of other men. He patted my shoulder and gave me a sly grin.
“Two little girls and Sunny. So glad I ain’t you, brotha.”
***
It felt like I’d just dozed off in the uncomfortable chair next to Sunny’s bed when the shrill alarm of Sunny’s heart monitor jolted me out of my sleep. I jumped up just when the door to her room flew open and three nurses ran in. I looked over at Sunny. She wasn’t moving. Her eyes were closed as if she was sleeping. The monitors attached to her were going off. Just as a nurse shoved me away from the bed, I saw another one pull the blanket off of Sunny and throw it on the floor. There was blood everywhere!
The nurses were moving so fast that I couldn’t tell what they were doing. An oxygen mask was placed over Sunny’s face. People were scrambling to remove the IV bags and hook up new ones.
“What are you giving her?” I yelled but no one answered me.
Another person lifted Sunny’s gown and squirted pale blue ultrasound gel on her belly. He began moving the wand around then called for Dr. Margolis. I ran around the bed to see if I could find out anything from Sunny’s obstetrician. They were both staring at the monitor where Sunny’s now empty uterus filled the screen. I couldn’t hear what was being said between them. The next thing I knew, they were moving Sunny from the bed to gurney.
“What the hell is happening?” I hollered out in pure desperation to anyone. Someone had to tell me something before I lost it.
“She’s hemorrhaging, sir!” a nurse shouted. “We’ve got to stop the bleeding.”
I raced behind the nurses pushing the gurney out of the room. Dr. Margolis grabbed my arm and stopped me from squeezing into the elevator with them.
“Aiden, we’re taking her downstairs to OR three.”
“Operating room? What the hell is happening? Why is she going to an operating room?”
“You can’t be in the operating room. Get your family and Dr. Diallo will meet you down there. I have to get in there and see what’s causing the bleed and stop it.”
“Go then!” I yelled. “Go help her!”
My hands were shaking as I tried to unlock my cell phone to call Sunny’s parents. I dropped the damn thing twice. An older nurse approached me and took the phone out of my hand. I looked up into the warmest and calmest face. The nurse’s nametag said RITA and she had the calming presence of someone’s grandmother but she wasn’t that old.
“Who do you want to call first, baby?”
“Peaches.” I gave her my code and on the elevator ride down to the second floor, Rita explained to Peaches what was going on and where to meet us. I leaned against the elevator wall and listened to her very soothingly talk to Sunny’s mother, my mother, and Erica.
When she was finished making my calls, Rita slipped my phone back into my pocket and waited with me in the waiting room until someone from my family showed up. Tahir arrived first just like Dr. Margolis said he would, dressed in scrubs instead of his white coat.
“Aiden,” he spoke carefully. “I’m going in the operating room with Dr. Margolis.”
He explained that the ultrasound showed that there were still pieces of Sunny’s placenta attached to her uterus, which caused the bleeding, and they needed to be removed.
“If I can’t stop the bleeding, Aiden, I will have to remove the uterus. Do you know what that means?”
My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. This couldn’t be happening. She was fine an hour ago. Now the Chief of Surgery was standing in front of me talking about taking away Sunny’s ability to have children. What the hell did we do to deserve this?
***
I sat on the floor of the waiting room with my head resting against my knees. My mom was rubbing my shoulders. Peaches prayed out loud and silently while pacing around the room. Jermaine sat silently in a chair barely moving any muscles. Delilah was doing her best to keep Summer distracted from the ominous energy Sunny’s entire family was emitting.
I was helpless. There was nothing I could do. We’d been sitting in the waiting room for an hour and a half without any word from Dr. Margolis or Tahir. I felt guilty that I was a little relieved that if it came down to it, I wouldn’t be the one making the decision to save Sunny’s life or take away her ability to have another child.
Sunny and I had never talked about anything like this. I had no idea what Sunny wanted. We aren’t married yet; her parents had to make that decision and I could only pray that they made the right oone. I can live with not having any more children. I cannot live without Sunny.
UNBROKEN (Friends, Lovers, or Nothing Book 5) Page 29