Fight for Me

by Corinne Michaels

  One of them being Dr. Madison.

  “Everything is not okay, is it?”

  Dr. Madison comes to the side of the bed and rests a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “We don’t know if what Jenna is seeing is right. I didn’t want you to be alone, so I’m just here for support.”

  If she feels that she needed to stand here and hold my hand, I have no comfort because it’s bad.

  “What’s wrong with my baby?” I ask as another volley of tears slide down my face.

  “Nothing is wrong with the baby, we just see something here,” the other doctor says while pointing to the screen. “This is your placenta, and there’s a shadow that shouldn’t be there. The baby is measuring a bit small, and I’d like to have you sent for another type of ultrasound that will give me a better view of what’s going on.”

  I shake my head, trying to push the tears back. “I don’t understand.”

  Natasha squeezes my hand. “I want to send you to Lehigh Valley for a test. I’ll call ahead to the team there.”

  “Do I need to be scared?”

  “Not at this point. The baby is okay, the heart, lungs, and everything is fine. We think it’s better to err on the side of caution when we find anything abnormal on an ultrasound. Does that make sense?” Her smile is soft, and her words are probably meant to be reassuring, but all I hear is “abnormal.”

  Here I thought this was going to be a great day. Declan would’ve come, we would’ve seen our baby, found out the sex, and then maybe started to plan differently.

  Instead, I got the notification from Milo that the buyer agreed to move up the closing date, Declan is in New York instead of here with me, and now this.

  They help me up to a sitting position because I’m shaking too hard to do it myself. I’ve never felt as vulnerable as I do now.

  “Do you have anyone who can drive you?”

  I shake my head. “No, I can drive.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t. You’re upset, so we’ll call for a ride, okay?”

  I want to argue, but there’s really no other options. No one other than Sierra and Declan know. I can’t tell Ellie, not with her being pregnant. I could call Devney, but I can’t even think straight.

  “I’ll call my sister and have her meet me there so she can drive me back,” I tell Natasha, who nods.

  “I’m going to head over there in about an hour.”

  An hour of waiting, wondering, and searching the internet for whatever the possibilities are and how serious this could actually be. I can’t lose this baby.

  Not when it might be the only thing I ever have of his that won’t leave me.

  The test is done. I’ve only thrown up once since I got here, and I’m now resting in a room. The only comforts I have are that Sierra is on her way and the sound of the baby’s heartbeat is echoing in the room.

  At least I know he or she is in there. Living. Heart beating. I still don’t know what they’re looking for, but the two radiologists were very sure they found whatever it was that alerted my doctor.

  There’s a soft knock on the door and then Natasha peeks her head in. “Hey.”

  “Please don’t keep this from me. Whatever it is, I need to know. I’m freaking the fuck out.”

  She sits on the side of the bed and takes my hand. “I don’t want you to freak out. During the first ultrasound, we found the baby was just a bit smaller than we’d like to see with how far along you are. It’s not a huge thing considering all babies grow and develop at slightly different rates, but when we don’t see an appropriate amount of growth between ultrasounds, we check for other possible signs as to why.”

  I nod, holding back the urge to be sick again. Tremors wrack my body as I edge closer to the end of my control. “Just say it.”

  “It’s called chorioangioma, which is a tumor on your placenta. Sometimes, this happens and they’re small and not an issue, but yours is very large, and ... I’m concerned. With the baby’s decreased size and the location on the placenta being close to the umbilical cord, we need to discuss options.”

  The floor drops out beneath me, and I might pass out. I have a tumor, and it could be hurting the baby? “What about the baby?” I ask frantically.

  This baby that I never planned for is the only thing that matters. They have to help it. We need to do whatever we can so he or she can grow. Everything is going wrong, and I need to stop it.

  “Relax, Sydney.” She tries to soothe me. “I know this is a lot to take in, and I have several colleagues weighing in on this, one at Children’s in Philly. There are options, and once they can assess your condition, and you, they will give you the best course. However, I want you to go immediately. Do you need to call anyone?”

  “No, Sierra should be here soon.”

  I called her immediately, freaking out and sobbing, and she said she was on her way. It should take her about three hours, but I’ve been here for almost two now. I pray she gets here fast. I need someone to hold my hand and tell me this will be okay.

  “Good, do you need to call Declan? I’m assuming he’s ...”

  I shake my head. “He is, but Declan didn’t show up or call, so I’m not really inclined to call him until I have more information.”

  My hand drops to my stomach where the baby is.

  “Okay, then. Do you have any other questions?”

  There’s just one. “Do you know if it’s a girl or a boy?”

  Natasha’s eyes go soft, and she smiles. “It’s a boy.”

  I hold it together until she walks out of the room, but as soon as the door closes, I fall apart and tears stream down my face until I fall asleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Sydney

  “Today? You want to operate today?” I ask the doctor, who I just met a few hours ago.

  “Right now, where everything is located, it’s imperative that we don’t wait. I worry about blood flow to the baby, which could lead to other complications. This is a very rare condition, Ms. Hastings. The size of your tumor is the concern. The last thing we want is for it to get bigger. I know it’s scary, but I wouldn’t rush into this if I thought there was another option.”

  “Right. No. I … I get it.”

  “Syd,” Sierra’s voice sounds strangled as she grips my hand. “If they think ...”

  I know what she’s saying, and she’s right. If they weren’t concerned, I wouldn’t have been transported immediately to Philadelphia.

  I don’t know that I’ve ever cried so much. In the hospital, in the ambulance, now here, it’s just constant tears. I’ve cried for the baby, for myself, for the fact that Declan isn’t here with me. I need him here. This is his baby too, and he’s in New York.

  I’m angry at all of this.

  “Can you explain everything again?” I ask.

  He nods and goes over how they came to the diagnosis, what that means for the baby and me, and then what they consider to be the safest course of action. I’m a planner by nature. I have to know that there’s some kind of contingencies as well. No matter how many times he assures me that it’s relatively safe, this is still scary, and it’s surgery while I’m pregnant. This is all happening so fast.

  He finishes talking and waits for me to say something.

  Anything.

  But I don’t know that I heard a word he said. It was almost as though I was looking at the entire scene from a distance.

  “Sydney?” Sierra pushes me to say something.

  “I just … I’m scared,” I admit. “I don’t want to lose the baby. It’s too … soon … too ... we’re not ready. I was just supposed to have an ultrasound. This wasn’t supposed to happen.” I start to cry again. “I want to go home and just start over.”

  Sierra wraps her arms around me and holds me tight. “I know you’re scared, but you’re so strong. You’re going to do fine, and they have a great team here.”

  She’s right that this is one of the best places to be, and Natasha has already assured me of that ten times. S
he was adamant that I go to the absolute top-of-the-line hospital.

  It’s a small silver lining as my entire world seemingly crumbles around me.

  But then I think of my son. The little life inside me that needs me to make the right choice. He is who will suffer from my fear.

  “When will you do the surgery?” I ask, wiping the remaining tears away.

  “In the next few hours. I’d normally do this procedure with local anesthesia and more of a twilight, but I see in your chart you’ve had some adverse reactions?”

  I nod. “Yes, the last two times it took a lot of effort to get me to go under and I woke up both times.”

  He writes something down. “I’m going to confer with our anesthesiologist, but I’d like to have you fully under where we can work quickly and not have that situation arise. However, it is completely up to you. This does put us at a little bit of a higher risk, but I think it’s a better choice.”

  “Okay. I would prefer that as well. My … my nerves and I … I can’t.” My voice is barely a whisper, and the words felt like they tore through me.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll talk it over and come back with the options again, okay?”

  “Thank you.”

  Sierra rubs my back, and the doctor leaves the room.

  “I need my phone,” I say, suddenly frantic. I have two hours, and I need to get a lawyer here to write up something for me.

  Sierra sits up and grabs it from her pocket. “Are you calling Declan?”

  “No, can you give me a few minutes though?”

  She looks torn, but after a second, she agrees and heads out. I call my friend from law school who has a practice in Philly. The line rings and rings, and the whole time, I’m shaking and it’s as though the walls are closing in.

  I have to protect the baby. I need to have this done as soon as possible.

  It rings and no one answers.

  There has to be someone else. If anything happens to me ...

  I call another number, but they don’t answer either.

  Shit. What the hell do I do?

  I rack my brain to remember anything about wills and medical directives. Sierra knocks and then peeks her head in. “Can I come in?”

  I nod. I’m going to have to do this the best way I can and pray no one contests anything. My sister will honor my wishes, I have to believe that, but I’m not sure if my mom will.

  I look up at my older sister and her lip quivers. “I’m so sorry, Sydney. I ... did you decide to call Declan?”

  I shake my head. “No, I don’t know if I should or if I can. I’m so broken right now I don’t know that I can talk to him.”

  She pushes the hair back off my face like she did what I was little. “You’re not broken.”

  My chest is so tight it hurts to breathe. “I told him about the baby. I told him I loved him, and I told him he had to choose. He didn’t pick me, Sierra. Instead of coming to the ultrasound today, he left.”

  “Left?”

  “He went back to New York. He didn’t even tell me!” I yell, my emotions overtaking me. “He left me and the baby, and ... now, God, I can’t.” I curl in on myself, thinking of all the things I need to do. I should’ve been more prepared. All this time, I knew better. Thank God, I have a will, but now I need to do this. I have to be as prepared as I can be. “I want to name him, in case ...” I confess.

  “Sydney, no.”

  “No, please don’t say anything. I want him to have a name. I want this baby to know that I loved him no matter what. I need to name him.”

  Sierra seems to understand and then waits. I think of what Declan would say if he knew he had a son. So many years ago, we played the name game, and there’s only one name for this baby. I close my eyes, imagining what he might look like. I hope he has the Arrowood eyes, green with little flecks of gold and a dark black rim around the outside, making the green brighter. I imagine him to have puffy cheeks like I had when I was a baby, and then I give him a smile that would make me weep.

  I want the name to be something, to mean something, and I also want it to remind my son of who he is no matter who is in his life.

  “Can you get me a piece of paper?”

  My sister looks confused and then walks over to her purse and grabs a notepad. “I carry it around in case the boys need it.”

  I open the notebook and find a picture of the boys holding who I assume is Sierra’s hands. The sun is a bright yellow and there are clouds above them. They’re all smiling, and the ache in my chest grows.

  She’s their mom.

  They love her.

  I might never have drawings of a boy holding my hand. I might never know the joys of motherhood. However, if something happens to me, I know that my sister will love him like her own.

  From what the doctor explained, I am the one at greatest risk, so I have to make sure my wishes are clear and that they will be carried out.

  * * *

  I, Sydney Hastings, of sound mind and body, write this as a letter to supplement my last will and testament. This will act as my medical directive. I grant all medical decisions if I am incapacitated to my sister, Sierra Cassi. These are my wishes to be followed out by her.

  If I should die, I want my son to be named Deacon Hastings-Arrowood. His father is Declan Arrowood, and my hope is that he will assume parental responsibilities, but if he should choose not to, then custody is to be awarded to Sierra and Alexander Cassi.

  If I do not pass, I would like to remain on life support until the time that my child can be safely delivered. Once that passes, I would like to be removed from all machines and allowed to pass on.

  If the decision of life comes down to either my unborn child or me, the decision should be to save the child.

  * * *

  I look back to my sister. “Can you go get the doctor and a nurse please?”

  “Sure, but why?”

  “Just, please do it.”

  She will never understand this, and I need to be sure it’s legal.

  A doctor I don’t know and the nurse who is assigned to me enters “Is everything okay?” The nurse asks.

  “Yes, I’ve written a medical directive that I need witnessed by you both. Please read it first, and then I will read it aloud and sign it. You both will need to sign as well.”

  My sister gasps. “What? No! Stop thinking like this.”

  I hand the note to the doctor first, and a look of understanding passes between us before he turns his attention to my directive and I turn to my sister. “I am thinking like a mother, Sierra. I am thinking like a person who knows exactly what I want. You may not decide the way I have, but before I go in there, you need to know what I want and that I’m making the decisions you will never want to make on my behalf. It’s because I love you that I’m doing this.”

  My sister drops into the chair at the side of my bed and lets her head fall to the mattress as she cries. What I’m asking of her is incredibly hard and unfair, but Sierra would save me instead of this child, I know it, which is why I needed to say it.

  I have to know that the baby Declan and I made will survive. It’s the only option in my heart.

  The doctor nods and hands it to the nurse to read. When she’s done, she gives it back to me.

  I read it aloud.

  Tears stream down my face as my sister sobs harder with each word. Sierra has always been the strong one, but not even she can withstand this heartache. Both of us fear the worst, but I’m prepared for whatever. I’ve lived. I’ve loved. I’ve been broken and mended. I want my son to be what people remember of me.

  “I need the pen, please,” I say as I finish. The doctor hands it to me. “Thank you.”

  “You know the likely outcome is that you will all be fine, right?” he says.

  “Yes, but the lawyer in me needs to know that, no matter what, all will be good.”

  Sierra sits up and stares at me with bloodshot eyes. “Please, don’t fucking die.”

  I smile at her because,
even through the pain, she makes me feel hope. “I won’t.”

  “Then all this is just a formality,” Sierra says as I sign the paper.

  The witnesses do the same, and when they turn to leave, the nurse’s eyes are wet as her lips attempt to lift but never quite make it.

  She climbs onto the bed beside me, like we did as kids when we felt sad or alone. When I felt worthless, Sierra was the only other person besides Declan who could help me find value in myself.

  “It’s going to be fine,” she tells me.

  “I know.”

  “All that was just … pomp and circumstance.”

  “Yup.”

  Sierra lifts her head. “The baby will be fine.”

  “I know he will.” No matter what, I believe my son will be okay. Declan has a great capacity for love, and I believe in my heart he’ll do the right thing. If he doesn’t, my sister is the best person I know.

  I want to ask her to do all kinds of things like tell him about me. I hope they relay the stories of how much I loved him and how I was willing to die just so he could survive. I want him to know that his mother placed him above all else. I close my eyes, press my hand to my belly, and tell him what’s in my heart.

  Whether you know it or not, you came from love. Your father may not make the best choices when he’s scared, but I loved him when you were made. He’s always been a good guy, does the best he can, but sometimes he’s stupid, so please forgive him. His life hasn’t been easy, and he’s made a habit of punishing himself when he feels the slightest bit of happiness. Even if he didn’t choose me, he will never turn you away. I know this in my heart because you will be the best part of him.

  You see, you were never planned, but you’re the prayer I never thought would be answered. I will never regret one moment of the time I’ve had loving you. How could I? You are proof that true love exists. You are the miracle that I didn’t know I needed. I hope that this is all for naught. That in a few hours, I’ll be awake and telling you that Mommy did it. I just need you to know that, if I don’t, you are so loved, Deacon.