“Just now. At the cottage. There was cramping and then—” I couldn’t finish.
“Okay, we’re almost there. Try to stay calm.”
Stay calm.As if that were possible when everything I’d been protecting for the past two weeks might be slipping away.
The ambulance stopped. Doors opened. Bright lights blinded me as they wheeled me through automaticdoors that whooshed open. The smell of antiseptic and industrial cleaner hit me, and my stomach turned.
“We’ve got a twelve-week pregnancy with vaginal bleeding and syncope,” one of the EMTs announced as they wheeled me in. “Vitals stable, IV started, moderate bleeding on the pad.”
Moderate. Was that good or bad? I couldn’t tell from his tone.
People in scrubs appeared and transferred me to a different gurney. Kick stayed at my side, his hand gripping mine.
A nurse looked at him. “You’re the father?”
“Yes.”
“You can stay with her. Just try to keep out of the way when we need to work.”
He nodded and moved to the head of the bed, positioning himself where he could hold my hand without blocking anyone.
The exam room felt cold and sterile. A curtain separated me from whatever chaos existed on the other side.
A nurse helped me out of my blood-stained clothes and into a gown while another checked the pad fromthe ambulance. Kick turned his head, giving me what privacy he could without leaving.
“Bleeding has slowed a bit. That’s encouraging.”
I felt another pinch in my arm. “Drawing blood. We need to check your HCG levels, hemoglobin, and blood type.”
“Why blood type?”
“Rh factor. If you’re Rh-negative and the baby’s father is Rh-positive, we may need to give you a shot to prevent complications.” She labeled the vials, then looked at Kick. “Do you know your blood type?”
“O-positive.”
“Good. That helps.”
A woman in a white coat appeared and snapped gloves on. “Isabel, I’m Dr. Cross. I’m going to do a pelvic exam to check your cervix. This will help us understand what’s happening.” She glanced at Kick. “Some women prefer privacy for this part. Would you like him to step out?”
I looked at Kick. He was already pale, already terrified. Sending him to pace in a hallway wouldn’t help either of us. “You can if you want.”
He shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere.’’
“He can stay.”
“Okay. Try to relax. Deep breaths.”
Kick brushed my hair from my face and brought his mouth close to my ear. “You’re doing great,” he whispered.
I stared at the ceiling and gripped his fingers while she worked.
The pressure was uncomfortable but brief.
“Cervix is closed.” She stripped the gloves off. “That’s a very good sign. The pregnancy is still intact.”
A breath I didn’t know I was holding rushed out of me. Kick’s hand tightened on mine.
“We’re going to do an ultrasound to check on the baby, and then we’ll monitor you for a few hours until the bleeding stabilizes. Your blood work should be back soon.”
