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Chapter 173

Somehow, when Nick had been with Leah, the woman who – he’d thought at the time – was expecting his child, he’d never fully appreciated what it would be like to witness that child enter the world, to be in a delivery room, holding her hand, and watch it come out of her. He’d never realized how slimy and disgusting it would be… or how utterly incredible.

But standing there in the operating room with Claire, letting her clutch his hand as he peeked in curiosity over the drape and saw the doctor’s hands lift the first baby girl out of her, Nick understood that it was all of that. Slimy, definitely… disgusting, slightly… but incredible. Absolutely incredible, that something so tiny and alien-looking, yet so very alive could emerge, kicking and screaming, from her body.

It wasn’t even his baby, and yet, he was drawn to it, to the sticky, wet, unbelievably tiny, red-skinned little creature the doctor held in one of her cupped hands. She was much smaller than he had imagined she would be, too tiny to be alive, but she was. Her screechy cry about broke his heart, and yet, it was a beautiful sound.

It was enough to make Claire weep, and, watching the tears of motherhood stream down her face, Nick felt like he could almost cry himself, the effect of the flood of emotions pouring through him.

Incredible.

He wanted to tell Claire so, knowing that she could not see a thing, but there was still another baby to be delivered, and when the doctor pulled this one out, everything changed.

The second baby girl was equally tiny and equally slimy, but whereas the first had been red with agitation and life, her twin was a sickly gray, her miniature limbs, not quite as wide as Nick’s pinky, limp and unmoving.

Nick stopped breathing, frozen with dread.

The baby was dead.

Whereas he had felt overheated a few moments ago, flushed with the excitement and momentum of the first twin’s arrival, he now felt very, very cold, numb and clammy, as if he were about to pass out.

This couldn’t be happening. Oh God, not now… after all this, please… she can’t be dead. Please don’t let her be dead.

Blackness was starting to close in at the corners of his vision, while static rang in his ears. He felt as if he were in a twilight zone, but he fought the effects, knowing, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he had to stay there, had to be there and be strong for Claire.

He squeezed her hand hard, hoping the contact would bring him back to where he needed to be. At the same time, he heard her voice, sounding faraway, ask, “What’s wrong? W-why isn’t she crying?”

It felt like he was watching a movie in slow motion and on mute; all the sound in the room seemed to fade as he saw the doctor, barely speaking, pass the baby to someone else, probably one of the pediatricians, like the one who had taken away the first baby.

“Why isn’t she crying??”

Claire’s voice sounded louder now, more insistent, and the panic in it finally snapped Nick back into reality. He was back in the scene playing out before him; he could see the doctors and nurses huddled around the gray baby on a little table, though he could no longer see the baby itself. He only saw their backs and heard their muffled voices as they called out things he barely understood.

“Claire, the second baby isn’t breathing,” said Dr. Valerio in a quiet, calm voice, and that much Nick did understand. “This isn’t unexpected; it’s probably just because her lungs are immature. The pediatrician is resuscitating her now.”

On the table, Claire nodded, but her chin quivered, and her face contorted, and more tears slipped from her eyes. They were no longer tears of joy, but of fear.

Nick could feel what she was feeling, though he knew that within her, the feelings had to be a hundred times magnified. That was her baby they were working on, trying to bring to life. It was different for her.

He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb and wished he knew what to say to keep her calm as they waited for some sign from the pediatrician that the baby wasn’t dead, that she would be okay. But he didn’t. He felt helpless, as helpless as Claire, lying on an operating table with the doctor and nurses still poking around in her open belly, and the two newborns she had delivered. He couldn’t do anything to help her or them, except stand there and pray. It was all in God’s hands now.

Please… please, don’t let the baby be dead.

That couldn’t happen; it would kill Claire too. She’d already lost one; she couldn’t lose another. These babies were all she’d had to look forward to for the last few months. She’d done everything for them. For her to lose one of them now, after all she’d been through for them…

For a terrifying while, Nick thought it really was going to kill her.

In the midst of all the tension, Dr. Valerio working on Claire while the pediatrician and his team worked on the baby, one of the monitors sounded an alarm. As it emitted the loud beep, which startled Nick, the blip of the heart monitor began to accelerate.

“Her BP’s dropping, Dr. Valerio,” said Aidyn, and Nick realized she was talking about Claire. “Pulse is 120.”

He looked at Claire; she was suddenly very pale. “I’m okay… just kind of woozy…” she murmured.

“We’ve got some bleeding down here,” Dr. Valerio’s voice carried over the drape. “Aidyn, add another unit of blood to her IV.’

Watching the nurse hang the small bag of dark red blood on Claire’s IV stand, Nick felt his own heart start to race. There’s nothing to worry about, he tried to assure himself. They cut her open; of course she’s bleeding. It seemed logical enough; they would give her more blood, and Claire would be fine. It was the babies they all needed to worry about.

As if their thoughts were the same, Claire asked, “How’s my baby? Nick, find out how she is. Is she breathing??”

Nick looked over to where the doctors and nurses were still huddled around the second baby. He could see their arms moving as they worked and heard their muffled voices, but he couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying. He was afraid to leave Claire and walk over to them, not wanting to interfere. Then he met Aidyn’s eyes across the operating table, and the nurse gave him a short nod of understanding before leaning down to Claire.

“I’ll check on her, sweetie. Just hang in there and breathe.” She patted Claire’s shoulder and turned to go over to the other medical team. Nick strained to hear her questions and their answers. “How’s Baby B?”

“One minute Apgar was only a 2. We’re going to intubate.”

Nick knew only what the last part meant and squeezed Claire’s hand encouragingly. “They’re gonna get her breathing,” he said softly.

Claire closed her eyes, and a few more tears slid out. Her own breathing was shallow and quick, and he could tell she was getting upset. He knew it wasn’t good for her, and so he kept on rubbing the back of her hand, wishing he knew what to say to keep her calm. He was a horrible birth coach; what was he doing there in the first place??

Aidyn reappeared on Claire’s other side and glanced up at her monitors. “Pulse is up to 150,” she observed. “Claire, sweetheart, try and stay calm. They’re doing everything they can to help your little girl.”

Claire started to nod her head, but suddenly, her hand went limp in Nick’s. He looked down just in time to see her eyes roll back into her head, and the monitors went haywire again.

“Aidyn, hang another unit of blood,” Dr. Valerio’s voice came again, and this time, it was sharp. “She’s losing it faster than we can give it to her. We’ve got to get this bleeding stopped.”

Nick’s heart skipped a beat, and he looked down at Claire, squeezing her hand hard, willing her to open her eyes again. With her unconscious, he was terrified. “Claire,” he said her name firmly, clutching her hand, “c’mon, baby, hang on. Open your eyes for me…”

The others in the room must have heard the panic in his voice. Another one of Dr. Valerio’s nurses suddenly put an arm around him and said, “You need to step outside so we can work on her. We just need to get her bleeding under control, and then you can come back.”

“No, please,” protested Nick, “I can’t leave-”

But the nurse must have been used to this type of thing because she kindly ignored him, held him in her vice grip, and firmly dragged him out of the room. The double doors swung shut when she walked back inside, and suddenly, Nick was left in the hallway alone, unable to see into the room where Claire lay bleeding.

The isolation was almost as bad as the worry. Back and forth he paced, practically wearing a hole into the line of tiles directly in front of the OR doors. He felt stuck in between the operating room, where he wanted to be, and the waiting room, where he should have been, where Kyle and Amber sat, anxiously waiting for news. He knew he should go there and tell them that Claire was a mother to twin girls. But he couldn’t. Not while her life and the second baby’s were hanging in balance. How could he go into that room, look her big brother in the eye, and tell them that his sister was bleeding, and the doctors couldn’t stop it? Or that his newborn niece still wasn’t breathing?

He couldn’t bear the thought of having to give that kind of news, and so he stayed put, pacing, freaking out, fearing the worst.

Claire would be okay, he tried to assure himself. She was tough; she was a fighter; she could get through anything. The doctors would fix her up, and she would be fine. And so would her babies, if they were anything like their mother.

But he couldn’t help but worry; it was impossible not to.

Claire’s nurse Aidyn must have known this, for after some time (really, just a few minutes, though it seemed like an eternity to Nick), she came out of the operating room and said, “They’ve got the baby on a breathing tube now, and she’s looking much better. She’s just going to need some help from a ventilator for awhile, until her lungs mature.”

“What about Claire?” Nick asked almost instantly. He was relieved to hear the baby was finally breathing, but Claire was his main concern now. If she wasn’t okay, then nothing could be.

“She’s hanging in there. They’re just having trouble getting her blood to clot so they can close her up.”

“Can I please go back in there?” Nick pleaded. “Maybe it’ll help her if I’m there, if she can hear me and feel me holding her hand.”

“I think it would be better if you waited out here for now. Take a break; get some water. I’ll keep you informed about what’s going on.”

Nick raked a hand through his hair; he wasn’t satisfied with that answer. Looking at the young nurse, he wondered if maybe she was a Backstreet Boys fan. Would a little flirting work on her? He wasn’t much in the mood for that kind of thing, but for Claire, he’d do it. It had worked before…

But Aidyn didn’t give him the chance; her next question quickly distracted him from using his charms to get back in the OR. “Does she have any other family here yet?”

“Uh…” Caught off-guard, Nick tried to think. “Yeah, her brother’s here.”

“Where is he? Could I talk to him?”

“They’re in the waiting room… I-I haven’t told them anything yet.” Suddenly, Nick felt guilty. Kyle would want to know what was going on with Claire, even if the news wasn’t good.

“That’s alright. I’d like to talk to him though, so could you show me where he is?”

“Sure…”

Nick walked with her down the hall to the waiting room where he’d last seen Kyle and Amber. When he entered the room, the two of them looked up, their faces anxious and hopeful, and Nick felt sick to his stomach. Still, he pasted a smile on his face and said, “Well… you have two nieces.”

Amber’s eyes lit up. “Both girls?!” she squealed. “How did they look? Are they alright?”

Here was where Nick wasn’t sure what to say, and he looked to Aidyn for help. Thankfully, she took over quickly.

“Baby A came out crying, and she seemed to be doing well, especially considering her age. Baby B had some trouble breathing at first, but they’ve got her on a ventilator now. They’ll both have to spend some time in the NICU, being so premature, but of course, we’re hopeful that they’ll both be just fine.”

“How’s Claire?” Kyle asked immediately.

Nick was wondering the same thing; it was making him nauseous, picturing her still bleeding in the OR, all alone. He wanted to be with her, not here in this stifling waiting room.

“She came through the births very well, but there has been some bleeding. Dr. Valerio and her team are working on stopping that now so that they can finish the operation.”

At the mention of bleeding, Kyle paled, even his freckles seeming to wash out. “How much bleeding? She’s gonna be okay, right??”

“This isn’t uncommon; it happens sometimes during a C-section, especially with multiple births. And given her medical history, we anticipated there might be some complications. But try not to worry; Dr. Valerio specializes in high-risk pregnancies, and she’s done many, many C-sections. She’s one of our best.”

Aidyn spoke with calmness and confidence, experienced at dancing around these kinds of questions, at putting a positive spin on things without coming right out and assuring them that Claire would be fine. The truth was, there was never a guarantee, and thinking of all the worst possibilities scared Nick to death. But he knew he had to stay strong, for Claire and her family.

“Is there anything that we can do?” asked Kyle, seeming desperate. “Can we at least see the babies?”

“The NICU teams are still working on the babies, but there is something you can do. You could donate blood,” replied Aidyn. “Claire’s had a transfusion in the OR already, and she’s going to need more. Our hospital blood bank is well stocked, but it’s always a help when people are willing donate more to replete our stores. If your blood type matches, we might even be able to give your blood directly to Claire once it’s been properly screened.”

“It matches,” Kyle said at once. “We’re both A positive. She’s got my bone marrow; she can have my blood. What do I need to do?”

Nick watched Claire’s brother in awe, admiring how quickly he had stepped up to help her. The admiration struck a chord in him, and suddenly, he blurted, “I’ll donate too. I’m an A too… A negative though. Will that work?” He didn’t know much about donating blood, but he had learned his blood type sometime over the course of his chemotherapy. He was surprised he still remembered it… but some things just stick with you. Most of those experiences, he would never be able to forget.

“A negative can usually donate to A positive,” Aidyn nodded. “We’ll still need to test your blood for antibodies, but even if Claire can’t receive it, we’d be grateful for your donation.”

“I’ll do it then,” Nick agreed, glad he could do something to help. He’d never donated blood before, but he figured it couldn’t be that bad, not after what he’d been through. What was another stick in the arm anyway? It was nothing compared to what Claire was having to endure behind the closed OR doors.

“Excellent. Come with me, and I’ll have another nurse get you set up right away.”

Exchanging glances, the two men followed Aidyn out of the waiting room.

***

Nick had always had a fairly good relationship with Claire’s older brother, but that night, the two shared a real bonding experience.

Lying on a pair of cots, a few feet apart, in a small room, with matching IVs in their arms, he and Kyle raced to see who could pump a pint of blood out the fastest and couldn’t help but laugh together at how odd the situation seemed. It was nervous laughter, spawned by the tension and worry they were both feeling, but it brought them together.

“Great place to be at midnight, right?” Kyle joked wryly, eyes traveling to the clock on the wall.

Nick followed his gaze and smirked when he saw that it was, indeed, past midnight. “Even better. It’s my birthday now.”

“Really?” Kyle’s dark red eyebrows shot up. “Wow… happy birthday, man. Way to ring it in.”

Nick chuckled. “It’s all good. As long as Claire’s alright, it’ll be worth it.”

Kyle smiled tightly. “I think she’ll be okay,” he said. “You know her; she’s tough. She just likes to scare us. She’s always been difficult like that.”

Returning the smile, Nick replied, “Think her daughters are going to be any different?”

“Doubt it,” Kyle snorted, then grinned. “Hey, they almost shared your birthday, then, huh?”

“Almost. Missed it by forty minutes.”

They both laughed again. How weird, thought Nick, that Claire’s babies would be born almost on his birthday. Truly, the world worked in mysterious ways.

“Hey man,” said Kyle after a pause, “in case I forget to say it later, I just wanna tell you… thanks for everything you’ve done for my sister tonight. For being there for her, and for giving blood. It means a lot… to me and to her. And to our parents.”

Nick brushed the compliment aside; it really wasn’t that big of a deal. Of course he would do all of that; he would do anything for Claire. Anything she needed. “No problem,” he said. “I’m glad I could help.”

He was glad it had worked out; it almost hadn’t. When the nurse had come to start the blood donation, she’d given Kyle and him each a consent form to sign and a piece of paper which listed all kinds of guidelines, things that could prevent a person from being allowed to donate. Nick had skimmed over the mentions of recent tattoos and piercings, glad he hadn’t had any work done lately.

But then he had come to the part about past health problems and seen the big C-word. Cancer.

His stomach turned over, and he cleared his throat, holding the clipboard out towards the nurse. “If I’ve had one of these medical problems, does it mean I can’t donate?” he asked.

“It depends,” the nurse replied. “Which problem?”

“Cancer.”

“What kind, and how long ago?”

“Ewing’s Sarcoma, and it’s been… well, I was diagnosed with it like six years ago, but I’ve been in remission for four…” Nick watched her face carefully as he answered, preparing to be disappointed. It wasn’t that he wanted to be hooked up to an IV and drained of blood, but here he had the chance to do something really important for Claire, and he was going to be denied.

The nurse pursed her lips, seeming to contemplate this. “You haven’t had any treatment for it in the last four years?”

“No.”

“I’ll have to double check the Red Cross’s guidelines, but I think you’re clear to donate then. I’ll go ahead and get you set up if you’d like to sign the consent.”

Relieved, Nick had quickly scribbled his name at the bottom of the form.

Now the small bag of dark, rich blood hooked to his IV pole was almost full, and he had a good feeling about it, imagining the possibility of it eventually going into Claire’s veins, helping to strengthen her weary body.

The blood donation served another purpose, too: while helping to save a life, it killed time. By the time he and Kyle had donated a pint each, things had changed for the better.

Claire’s parents had arrived, and when Nick and Kyle went back to the waiting room, cotton held against the crooks of their elbows with band-aids, they found them already there and caught up with what was going on, thanks to Amber. There wasn’t any word on Claire, but after only a few minutes of tense waiting, her nurse Aidyn came again and told them that she was out of surgery.

“We got her bleeding under control and were able to finish the operation without any other complications, and she came through just fine,” the nurse told them with a supportive smile. “She’s resting now. We did have to give her some more anesthesia during the surgery, so she’ll probably sleep for awhile.”

“How are the twins?” was, of course, the next question out of Claire’s mother’s mouth. It was the question on all of their minds. After Claire, there were only the two babies to think of.

“I spoke briefly with one of the NICU nurses, and she said that both baby girls are sleeping soundly in the NICU. Their pediatricians will be able to tell you more once Claire is awake. Unless the babies’ father is coming?”

She glanced around the room, but Nick and the members of Claire’s family could only exchange glances and shake their heads.

“Someone should call him,” said Kris. “Claire did talk to him earlier, didn’t she?” He looked at Nick, who nodded.

“Yeah, she called him. He’s in Denver.”

Nodding, Kris stood and pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll give him a call back. He should know that he’s got twin daughters.”

He left to call Jamie, and Aidyn left to get back to her work. The others remained sitting. Amber leafed through a magazine, hardly stopping on the pages long enough to read them, while Carrie stared at the floor, her hands tightly clasped in her lap. Kyle stared at the TV, eyes slightly glazed, the reflection playing off his irises, and Nick could only fidget in his seat.

They were back to this, the waiting game. For Claire to wake up… for Jamie to fly in… for word on their two newborns…

All they could do was wait.

***