Waiting for You(65)

She nodded, and suddenly tears started running down her cheeks. “Yes, but—it’ll hurt a lot more. Oh, Jake…I don’t know if I can handle it. I can barely handle this. I thought I was so strong…I thought…”

He squeezed her hands. “You are strong.”

“All the books said natural birth is best. I can’t fail this soon. I can’t fail right at the beginning.”

He started to answer her, but another contraction rolled over her and all he could do was wait, his agony at her agony like a knife through his heart.

“You’re not a failure if you don’t have a natural birth,” he told her. “Why would you even think that? The only thing that matters is having a healthy baby.”

“But it’s not what we planned,” she said. “I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready for any of it.” Her tears were still falling, and he didn’t know how to make her feel better.

Neither of them was ready for this. And he wasn’t doing Erin any damn good at all.

He wiped her face with the washcloth and then he kissed her forehead. Another contraction came, and another, and it seemed like forever before the doctor came back again.

This time she looked at the fetal heart rate monitor and shook her head. “The baby’s heart beat is slowing. There’s no immediate danger, but she’s under stress. I want to start prepping you for a c-section.”

A wave of nausea brought the taste of ashes into his mouth. The doctor was still talking, explaining the procedure and what to expect. She made it sound routine, but the fact was, a cesarean was surgery. Things could go wrong in surgery.

And the baby was under stress.

Other people were coming into the room now—more nurses and an anesthesiologist. One of the nurses was talking to him, explaining that they’d be taking him to prep so he could be in the O.R. for the procedure. Then she was guiding him out of Erin’s room.

His vision started to blur as they walked down the corridor. His face felt numb, and then his hands. His heart was thudding in his chest.

“I need a minute,” he heard himself say, just as the nurse paused outside a small room next to the O.R.

“All right,” she said, surprised, and then he was walking away, moving blindly through the corridors, not sure where he was going but conscious only that Erin might be better off if he weren’t with her.

There’d been times in the last couple of years when he’d wondered if he was cursed, if he was some kind of bad luck charm. Even though his sessions with Mitch had convinced him that wasn’t true, he realized now that the knowledge had only sunk in so far.

Deeper down, below the level of rationality, he only knew that people he cared about had died and he’d been powerless to save them.

And now Erin was lying in an operating room, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to help her. There was no action he could take to ensure her safety or the safety of their daughter.

He’d become a soldier to protect people. But a soldier needed a weapon to fight with or he was just a man without a job. A man waiting, helplessly, for the people he loved to die.

He came to the end of a corridor and realized he was at the entrance to the lobby. He felt a blind urge to get out, and he pushed open the doors.

His mother was there, sitting in the waiting area. She saw him in the doorway and jumped to her feet, smiling. But when she saw his expression the color drained from her face.

“Jake, what’s wrong?”

He stared at her, disoriented. “What are you doing here?”

“You called to let us know Erin had gone into labor. Don’t you remember? I told you I’d be here.”

He looked at the clock on the wall. It was just after midnight.

“What’s going on? Has Erin had the baby?”

He shook his head, trying to clear it. “She’s having a cesarean. Her labor wasn’t progressing and the baby’s heart rate was slowing. They’re prepping her now.”

Irene nodded, looking relieved. “My goodness, I was worried there for a minute when I saw your face. Jake, there’s no need to panic. This hospital must perform thousands of cesareans a year. Everything will be all right. But you should get back to Erin.”

He spoke through dry lips. “She’s going into surgery. The baby’s in distress. What if—”

His mother put her hand on his arm. “Erin and the baby will be fine. But they both need you right now, so you should—”

“Need me?” A sudden wave of anger made his voice rough, and he shook off his mother’s hand. “There’s nothing I can do for them. I can’t give Erin what she needs. You should be in there with her, or Allison. Anyone but me.”