“Is everything okay?” I asked the technician.
“Let Ms. Welch use the washroom, and then we can go over the latest ultrasound.”
This was followed by a lot of hurry-up-to-wait. When Jo finished with the washroom, instead of directing her to change as was routine, a nurse appeared and informed her, “We are going to have you see a doctor before you leave.”
While we waited, they took her blood pressure again. They also took her temperature.
Once the nurse left, I asked, “Jo, how are you feeling, baby?”
Again, there was no sassy comeback. “I think I’m just a bit tired and a little cold.”
Despite her temperature having just been taken, I pressed my hand to her forehead; her skin felt cool and damp. I quickly removed my coat and wrapped it around her shoulders, trying to stop her shivering.
The doctor who entered the room was one we had never met before. God, he looked young. I could practically smell the milk on his breath.
“Hello, folks. I’m Dr. Walken. I’m the obstetrician on call. The latest ultrasound showed noticeable changes in the amniotic fluid level.
Your blood pressure is low, and your temperature is slightly elevated. We would like to hold you overnight for observation.”
The routine visit unexpectedly turned into a hospital stay.
To me, there was nothing routine about the monitoring.
“We are going to hook you up to the electronic fetal monitoring device to monitor the little one, and for you, Mom, we are going to keep an eye on your pulse, check your blood pressure, and give you an IV,” the nurse explained.
I wasn’t the only one surprised. The emotional weight of the moment settled heavily on both of us. I could see the worry in Jo’s eyes, and I felt it in my chest.
“They were just being extra cautious,” Jo commented, though I wasn’t sure if she was trying to reassure me or herself.
I didn’t like dealing with unknowns, and the situation felt uncertain. All I could do was offer my shoulder to lean on and hold her hand. I didn’t give false assurances. I needed to stay strong for her. After a couple of hours, we were finally assigned a private hospital room. I insisted Jo have her privacy. With all the uncertainty, I wanted her to feel as comfortable as possible.
I wanted to shield her from the fear, but all I could do was be there, offering my presence as a steady anchor in the storm of uncertainty. The private room was a small comfort, the only thing I could control in a situation where so much felt out of our hands.
Once we settled in the room, I realised I had neglected, with all the commotion to get her something to eat. “With everything going on, it has been a while since you’ve eaten. What would you like? I’ll get it for you.”
“Shit, Nancy!” she exclaimed. “Crap, where is my phone?”
We had completely forgotten about the outside world.
She had received many messages from Nancy demanding to know why it was taking so long and what was happening. In the past half hour, Amara had also started messaging.
“I should have contacted Nancy earlier. Now she has Amara all riled up, which means the family will be concerned.”
As expected, Amara’s call came through while Jo held her phone. The weariness of the day was clear on Jo’s face as she stared at the screen.
“Would you like me to speak to her?”
“Yes, please,” Jo sighed.
I was eager to handle speaking to Amara, but fear sliced through me. Jo wasn’t herself.
CHAPTER TWELVE
RYAN
“I’m just going to run down to the cafeteria, and I promise I’ll be back soon,” I assured Jo, although it was more for me than her.
I didn’t want to leave Jo’s side, but she needed to eat. No one else was with us, and I wasn’t leaving the hospital—just going to the main floor.
