Chapter 2
I saw my attending doctor’s frown deepen as he handed his tools to the senior physician beside him. He approached the intern and took the sanitized phone.
“Dr. Hartley, your wife is experiencing an acute amniotic fluid embolism. We need your expertise immediately to help save her,” he said firmly.
The call disconnected with a cold series of beeps.
“What’s wrong with him? Ignoring his wife to cater to someone else?” an angry voice burst out. “Some ‘expert‘—he’s just a total jerk!”
I couldn’t help but smile faintly at the truth in his words.
Realizing the potential effect of his outburst, my attending doctor looked apologetic.
Through the fog of anesthesia, I managed a silent glance that said it was okay. Because he was right.
But that fleeting understanding gave way to a deep, gnawing despair that swallowed the last remnants of my resolve.
“Patient’s oxygen is plummeting! Request more blood from the bank!”
Riverside Community Hospital began urgently requesting blood from across the city, and news of the embolism spread quickly.
Just then, a doctor from Midtown Medical Center entered the room, a familiar face who had handled such cases with Samuel.
“Can you believe it? Dr. Hartley’s wife is giving birth here too. I happened to come by and rushed over to help.”
Dr. Hartley’s wife?
My attending physician instinctively looked at me.
Samuel’s colleague, already experienced from assisting him before, took charge smoothly. The tension began to ease, and a light conversation ensued.
“I saw Pediatrics bring the newborn back earlier–a chubby little boy,” he remarked. “Strange, though, no dad came to see him. Is she a single mom or something?”
The attending doctor cleared his throat.
The oblivious doctor continued. “Odd, considering Dr. Hartley’s wife is just down the hall. Why isn’t he here? You’d think he’d prioritize helping his own wife deliver.”
Before anyone could respond, an intern snapped, “Dr. Lee, the woman in front of you is Dr. Hartley’s actual wife, Morgan Bennett.”
Dr. Lee chuckled dismissively. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve worked with Samuel for years. His wife is Lila Whitmore–not this Morgan person.”
“Great,” the attending doctor muttered as my previously stable vitals began to nosedive. “We’re not joking; this is Dr. Hartley’s wife. Your careless words just drained whatever willpower she had left.”
Dr. Lee smacked his forehead. “I thought you were all kidding!”
Just then, the faint cry of a baby echoed in the room.
“Bring the baby to the mother,” my attending doctor directed Pediatrics.
I strained to open my eyes and saw a tiny, purple–tinged baby. Despite everything, a smile tugged at my lips.
He was so ugly, resembling Samuel in every way.
But I couldn’t help loving him–a visceral, uncontrollable kind of maternal affection.
After a grueling, day–long battle and over 500 units of blood, I survived.
Once out of the ICU and transferred to a regular room, the postpartum nurse, Mrs. Evelyn Carter, arrived looking uncomfortable, holding a
used diaper.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry. Dr. Hartley insisted I help Ms. Whitmore first. I couldn’t refuse…