I sighed, taking the last bite of my burger. “I want it to be something with the letter T. For both of their names.”
Robert nodded and thought a moment. “How about Travis.”
I mulled the name over in my head, and eventually nodded. “I like it. And Tyler. Travis and Tyler.”
“Those are our two boys.”
****
“What’s wrong?” I cried out in pain. I was thirty-five weeks and in labor. Severe, sharp pains reverberated through my lower back and down my legs. I had nearly collapsed just trying to walk into the hospital. Thankfully, a nurse quickly met us at the entranceway with a wheelchair. We’d been whisked up to the private wing of the hospital where I’d given birth two times prior. I knew the staff and hospital well. I was comfortable with my doctor and my husband was by my side. But something felt wrong.
“We’re a little concerned with Baby A’s heartbeat. Every time you have a contraction, it slows down a little bit. We’re just going to keep an eye on it,” my doctor stated calmly.
But something was wrong. I knew it.
The face she put on to disguise her worry wasn’t fooling me.
“What do you mean keep an eye on it?” Robert demanded.
Reaching for his hand, I pulled him back toward me and the bed. “Robert, the last thing I need right now is for you to lose it on the woman who’s delivering our boys, okay?”
I tried to say more but another contraction hit me, and I tightened my hold on his hand, grimacing as the pain felt unbearable.
“Owww! Shit!” I yelled.
“Why the hell haven’t you given her an epidural yet?”
Now that, I wasn’t about to chastise Robert for yelling about. Where the hell was the anesthesiologist?
“The only available anesthesiologist is tied up in surgery right now. Deborah, I need you to hold on for a little while longer, okay? Just remember to breathe, in through your nose and out through your mouth.”
I swear if I could’ve kicked the woman, I would’ve. But I was in too much pain.
It went on like that for another hour until the anesthesiologist finally arrived and gave me the epidural I’d been waiting on. I thought Robert was going to kill the man before he could deliver the numbing drug. Thankfully, he didn’t.
Although the epidural had kicked in, I still felt like something was wrong. I watched the heartbeat monitor for the babies, throughout my contractions. I also noticed the drop in heartbeat of Baby A every time I contracted. But to me, he wasn’t Baby A. He was Travis.
“Did my water break?” I questioned out loud, feeling a warm liquid in between my legs. I pulled back the blanket, and to my horror I found crimson-colored blood. “Robert!” I called. He’d stepped into the bathroom but quickly exited when he heard the terror in my voice. “I’m bleeding!”
His face turned white as a ghost and he ran to the doorway, shouting for a nurse and doctor. Within minutes my hospital room was filled with an array of hospital staff. They were all telling me to calm down but I had no idea how to do that. What really set me off was the worry that was written across Robert’s face. My husband wasn’t a worrier. He had the power to move mountains, and yet, he looked as helpless as I felt.
“Mrs. Townsend, we’re going to have to take you into surgery.”
“No, no.” I began shaking my head, gripping the railings of the bed. Surgery had a higher chance of mortality, for the mother and babies. I’d read the statistics.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Townsend, but we have to.”
“Where the hell are you taking my wife?” I heard Robert screaming behind me as they rolled me out.
There was a flurry of motion. I recalled the doctor telling me something about there not being enough time, and that the epidural would suffice. I was going to be awake during the C-section but wouldn’t feel anything. I didn’t know if that was better or worse. What I did know is that what scared me the most was when they refused to let Robert in during the surgery.
I laid there, still feeling the pressure as the doctors tugged and pulled, opening up my body to get the two babies inside. For the first time in a very long time, I prayed for two safe, healthy babies.
I cried tears of joy when the first baby came out and I heard the loud shrill of his cries.One out, one to go,I thought. But I waited and waited. The second cry never came.
“What’s happening?” I asked, looking around the room at the faces covered in surgical masks.
“The umbilical cord …” I heard the first half of the sentence, but not the second.
