Chapter Thirty
Note: This chapter is written in a third–person point–of–view. The reason is that the chapter is focused on a barely conscious Ava and her environment.
Third Person POV
Ava’s screams echoed through the hospital corridor as she was wheeled through the emergency doors, her
body writhing in pain. Her vision blurred, and every breath she took felt forced, like her lungs were refusing to
expand properly. Her blood pressure had skyrocketed, and the pain in her stomach felt like she was nearing
death. Nurses rushed around her, their voices sharp and urgent as they assessed her worsening condition.
As soon as the doors shut, muffling Ava’s screams somewhat, Kyle took a step forward, as if intending to follow her inside. However, he stopped himself. He had no place in that room; in fact, he had no right to be there. Instead, he clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths as he watched, horrified, Ava writhe on the hospital bed. Her screams were raw and terrifying, a sound that clawed at his soul while the doctor and nurses hovered over her.
Elson, looking as though he had just been punched in the gut, stood at the far end of the hallway, pacing and occasionally shooting glances at Kyle every time Ava’s screams echoed through the door. Neither of them spoke, but the muffled yet audible screams of Ava said everything that needed to be said.
Behind the ward door.
“She’s hypertensive! BP’s dangerously high, 200 over 110!” one of the nurses shouted, her voice professional yet you could detect the faint fear and concern in it.
“Her oxygen levels are dropping, and she’s struggling for air,” another voice added urgently.
Ava gasped, her fingers curling weakly into the sheets. Her chest felt tight against her pounding heart, robbing her of air till her screams turned into nothing but short gasps. She was in so much pain she could barely scream nor make out the blurred faces hovering over her. Then, through the haze of pain and panic, she heard the words that sent a fresh wave of terror through her.
“The baby is in distress. Heart rate dropping fast.”
The air in her lungs seemed to cease, and she gagged loudly as if she were choking with slightly parted lips. No. No, not her baby. Nothing must happen to her baby.
With a look at her condition, the doctor barked. “She needs to be taken to the OR immediately. We’re doing an emergency C–section.”
“But doctor…” A nurse started but the doctor cut her off.
“There’s no time to wait!” The doctor barked again. “We will lose them both if we waste any more precious
time.”
Kyle stood frozen just outside the emergency room, his hands clenched into trembling fists as he peered
l bed. through the small, transparent window in the door. He was horrified to see Ava lying still on the hos She was no longer writhing in pain, and her screams had ceased. She looked so small and fragile, and as fear clutched at his heart, he took a few steps back from the door, his eyes glued to Ava’s pale face visible through the glass.
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Was she dying? Is he going to lose her and his child again just as soon as he found them?
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He barely registered the movement in the room as the nurses sprang into action, detaching monitors and swiftly wheeling her bed out toward the operating theater. Elson dashed toward the medical team, screaming Ava’s name, while Kyle remained rooted in place, his chest heaving. He wanted to move, to stop them, to demand answers, but his feet refused to budge. His eyes followed Ava’s bed as it was wheeled away. His entire world crumbled down at the sight of Ava’s pale and clammy face twisted in pain as she disappeared behind the double doors marked with a bright red sign that blinked direfully with: “Operating Room” and “No Entry.” The image of Ava lying so still, her face contorted in a grimace, was etched into his mind, squeezing his lungs and filling his soul with terrifying energy that he couldn’t move an inch despite his inside screaming
for him too.
Inside the operating room, Ava was barely conscious with pale and clammy skin as the doctors worked frantically around her. The machines beeped at a rapid pace, monitoring both her and her unborn child. They prepped her abdomen, their voices blending into chaotic words of medical terms and urgency.
“She’s seven months along, the baby’s premature. We need to be careful and prepared.” The lead surgeon reminded the team.
There was a silence of agreement before the loud beeping from the monitor.
“She’s seizing! We’re losing her!” a nurse cried.
“Push 4g of magnesium sulfate! Now!” The lead doctor ordered.
A nurse swiftly injected the medication into Ava’s IV, trying to halt the progression of eclampsia before it led to a full–blown stroke.
“BP still unstable, but the baby….” the anesthesiologist said, monitoring the fluctuating vitals.
The doctor glanced at the screen of the ultrasound. The readings indicated that the baby’s heart rate was dropping rapidly as well, and there was no fetal movement. Even though Ava’s BP wasn’t stable yet, they needed to save both mother and child before it was too late.
“Administer an oxygen mask. We need to deliver this baby now,” he stated.
With a nod towards a nurse, a mask was placed over Ava’s nose and mouth. Ava blinked sluggishly, her lips slightly parting under the mask. Fear gripped her harder than the pain did. She wanted to scream, to fight, to do anything to stop this from happening, but her body betrayed her by letting the anesthesia pull her under, dragging her into the darkness.
“Scalpel.” The lead surgeon demanded, his gloved hands steady as he made the first incision across Ava’s abdomen. Blood pooled instantly, and suction was brought in to keep the area clear of blood. The room was a blur of movement and instructions.
“Uterus exposed. Proceeding with the incision,” he announced again, his voice calm despite the tension around him.
The cut was made, precise but deep, and within seconds, the team worked to retrieve the baby. The moment felt like an eternity before the lead surgeon finally lifted the small, motionless infant into the air.
However, the infant made no cry.
The room fell into a chill silence.
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The tension in the room thickened like smoke. Each person feared for the baby who looked so thin, pale, and
lifeless.
“NICU team, get ready for resuscitation!”
A pediatrician immediately took the baby, rubbing its tiny chest, suctioning fluids, and providing assisted ventilation while also performing a chest compression by using his two thumps. Seconds stretched painfully
until…
A wail.
A weak, but clear, newborn cry filled the room.
“Baby’s breathing on their own! It’s still critical, but improving.”
A collective sigh of relief passed through the team, but the battle wasn’t over yet.
Ava still hadn’t stabilized.
“Her bleeding isn’t stopping,” the surgeon muttered under his breath. “We’re losing her.”
The oddluna
Please note that I am not a medical practitioner, so I might not be correct about some things that happen in a surgical room. All of that is based on fiction and research. Thank you all.
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