Special Delivery by April Wilson
Chapter 16 – Shane
Shane McIntyre
Watching my wife nurse our daughter is mesmerizing. A soft light from the chairside lamp casts a glow on her rounded breast. Her slender fingers cup her plump breast as she holds it for the baby, whose tiny mouth suckles vigorously.
Beth is a beautiful woman and far stronger than anyone realizes. And she’s given me more than I ever dreamed possible.
She finishes nursing Ava and props the baby against her shoulder so she can burp her. I walk up next to her chair and run my fingers through Beth’s hair, the silky blonde strands slipping through my fingers. “Is she finished?”
She nods. “I just need to change her diaper and put her in a clean sleeper.”
“I’ll do that while you go get ready for bed.”
Smiling gratefully, she hands me our daughter.
I watch as Beth walks tiredly to the bathroom and disappears inside. While she’s getting ready, I change Ava’s diaper, tend to her umbilical cord, and dress her in a sleeper. Then I lay her in the bassinet beside our bed and turn down the light.
While Beth’s getting ready for bed, I peek in on Luke to make sure he’s still asleep. He’s lying on his stomach with his knees drawn up and his little butt in the air, his thumb in his mouth. I reach down and pat his back. “You’re a big brother now, buddy. That means you have a lot of responsibility coming your way. You need to watch out for your sister.”
Just as I return to our room, Beth comes out of the bathroom dressed in a sheer white nightgown, her hair freshly brushed and lying loose on her shoulders. As always, she takes my breath away.
I help her into the bed and cover her with the sheet and comforter. “I’ll be right back.”
I make a quick trip to the bathroom to get ready for bed. As soon as I return and lie down, she turns to me with a sigh and lays her arm across my torso. “You’re such a good dad,” she says with a sleepy smile as she tucks her head in the crook of my shoulder.
When I brush her hair back, I notice that her forehead feels warm. “Do you feel all right, sweetheart?”
She snuggles closer. “Just tired.” Then she winces and presses a hand to her abdomen. “I’ve been cramping a lot today, and I’m spotting, but I guess that’s to be expected.”
“I would think so. You gave birth just forty-eight hours ago. And you probably overdid it today. I think tomorrow you should rest in bed.”
I roll her onto her belly so I can give her a back rub. I know she likes that. She deserves a little bit of pampering. She’s had a hell of a day and hasn’t complained once.
When she drifts off to sleep, I press my lips to her forehead. “Good night, sweetheart. Sleep well.”
I lie awake for a while longer, just watching her sleep.
* * *
A quiet sound penetrates my sleep, waking me instantly. One of the residual benefits of having served in special ops is the ability to wake at the slightest sound.
I check the time—two o’clock in the morning. Lying quietly, I listen, trying to determine what it was that woke me. I focus on the baby monitor, which tells me Luke is sleeping soundly. I don’t hear any noises coming from Ava’s bassinet, just her soft breaths.
As I glance down at Beth, she rolls away from me, sighing heavily, then rolls right back. Then, with a soft moan, she kicks off her covers.
As soon as I press my palm to her forehead, instinct has me out of bed and searching in the bathroom cupboard for a digital thermometer. I find one of those infrared devices that I can simply swipe across her heated skin.
When the read-out glows red, my gut tightens as my suspicions are confirmed. She has a raging fever. One hundred and four degrees Fahrenheit.
Shit!
I shake her gently. “Beth? Sweetheart?”
She moans and turns away.
“Beth?”
I take her temperature again, just to be sure, and the outcome is the same. Damn it. She must have an infection, most likely something to do with the delivery.
I grab my phone and call Cooper.
Cooper answers promptly, his voice rough with sleep. “What’s wrong, Shane?”
“Beth’s temperature is a hundred and four. I’m taking her to the ER.”
“Shit. Do you want me to call 911?”
“No. There’s a hospital in Evanston. I can get her there faster myself. I need you and Sam to watch the kids. I don’t want to wake anyone else at this hour until we know what’s going on.”
“We’re on our way,” Cooper says, and then he ends the call.
I throw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, socks and sneakers. Then I grab Beth’s robe. There’s no time for her to change.
I turn the lights on low, just enough illumination so I can see what I’m doing. When I hear a quiet knock on the door, I open it. Cooper and Sam are standing there, dressed in sweats and T-shirts, and clearly just out of bed.
“I’m sorry for getting you guys out of bed at this hour.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cooper says as they walk inside.
I point to the diaper bag on the floor beside the bassinet. “There’s a cannister of powered formula in there, along with some bottles. You’ll have to sterilize the bottles—”
Cooper lays his hand on my chest. “We know what to do. Go.”
Sam is sitting on Beth’s side of the bed, his palm on her forehead. “She’s burning up.”
While I throw a few basics into an overnight bag, Sam talks quietly to Beth.
“Hey, princess,” he says. “You okay?”
She stirs with a whimper and finally opens her eyes. “Why is it so hot in here?” Her voice is slurred.
“You have a fever, sweetie,” Sam says. “Hubby’s taking you to the hospital.”
She frowns. “No. I can’t go. I can’t leave my kids.”
Sam brushes her hair back from her face. “Don’t worry. Danny and I have everything covered. You go get checked out so you can come back soon.”
Once I have our overnight bag packed, Sam sits Beth up while I slip her arms into the sleeves of her robe.
“No,” she cries, trying to push me away. “I can’t go.” She glances at Ava in her bassinet. “I can’t leave her, Shane. She needs me. She needs to nurse.”
Cooper crouches down in front of Beth. “Don’t worry about the kids, honey. Sam and I will take good care of them. You need to go so the doctors can find out what’s wrong.”
“I can’t,” she murmurs, shaking her head adamantly. “I can’t leave her.” Then she starts quietly sobbing.
Cooper looks my way. “Go,” he says as he heads for the door. “I’ll pull the Escalade up to the front doors. Give me five minutes, and then you bring her down.”
And then Cooper’s out the door.
I look to Sam. “Take care of them.”
He nods. “You don’t need to worry about your kids. Just worry about your wife.”
Despite her weak protests, I lift Beth into my arms and carry her out of our room, down the hall, and down the stairs to the foyer.
As I approach the front door, it opens. Cooper’s standing there, breathing hard. He follows me outside and opens the front passenger door so I can deposit Beth on the seat and secure her seatbelt.
Cooper clutches my shoulder. “Call us as soon as you know anything, no matter the time.”
“I will. Tell everyone in the morning. There’s no use waking anyone else right now. They’ll find out soon enough.”
Then I climb into the driver’s seat and head south to the nearest major hospital.
“Where are we going?” Beth asks as she gazes out her window at the dark, shapeless scenery.
“We’re going to the hospital, honey.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re not well.” I reach over to touch her forehead, which is, of course, still frighteningly hot. “You have a very high fever. You probably have an infection.”
She starts crying. “I can’t leave my baby.”
It’s all I can do to keep both hands on the steering wheel. “Ava will be all right, sweetheart. Sam and Cooper will take excellent care of her. You know they will.”
“But I need to nurse her.”
I reach for her hand and squeeze it. “They’ll make formula for her until you get back home. Right now we have to find out what’s wrong with you.”
Twenty minutes later, I park in front of the emergency room at Evanston Hospital. I rush around to the front passenger door, open it, and lift Beth out of the vehicle. She’s so weak, she can’t even stand. A security guard near the front entrance sees us and directs someone to bring a wheelchair.
As I push her inside, it’s clear she’s delirious from the fever. She’s mumbling incoherently and crying, obviously confused and panicking.
One of the hospital staff takes her straight back to the treatment area while I follow close behind.
As I run down her recent medical history, a nurse collects her vital information and obtains a blood sample.
“What are her symptoms?” the nurse asks me.
“You mean besides the fever? Earlier this evening, she complained of cramping and spotting.”
Shortly after, a physician comes in to perform an examination. “Given her symptoms, and the fact that she recently gave birth,” he says, “I suspect part of the placenta is still in her uterus. We’ll go in and remove any tissue that was left behind. She’ll need to be placed under general anesthetic.”
“Is it a safe procedure?”
“Well, there’s always some risk when a patient is under general anesthesia, but yes, it’s considered a safe procedure.”
“When are you going to do it?”
“As soon as you sign the paperwork and we get an obstetrician here. As her husband, you’ll need to give permission.”
I nod. “Of course.”
“I’ll send someone in to start the paperwork,” the physician says, and then he walks out of the room.
Beth is lying in a hospital bed, flushed and restless. They’re already giving her an IV of fluids with something to bring down her fever. I reach for her hand and cradle it in both of mine—even her hand is hot. Her entire body is on fire. I’m not sure she even understands where she is.
As I kiss her hand, I wish fervently that was just a bad dream, and that we were really back home with our kids.
“You need to get well and come home soon,” I murmur under my breath as tears blur my vision. “Our kids need you.” My throat tightens. “I need you.”
Half an hour later, a nurse comes in. “We’re going to prep her for the procedure now. I need to ask you to step out to the waiting room.”
Reluctantly, I stand and gaze down at my wife. She’s asleep and has no idea what’s happening or why. I lean down and kiss her forehead, and then gently I press my lips to hers. “I’ll be back by your side just as soon as I can.” I squeeze her hand gently. “I won’t be far from you, I promise.”
With one last kiss, and a murmured “I love you,” I walk out of her treatment room and head for the waiting room.
When I step through the doors, Cooper is there, looking as haggard as I feel.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him.
“Sam’s with the kids. We figured you needed someone here with you. And frankly, I needed to be here, too. Not just for you, but for her.” He nods toward a row of empty seats. “Have a seat, Shane, before you fall down.”
I nod. Cooper is the closest thing Beth has to a father, since hers died when she was an infant. Cooper takes his adoptive role seriously. I’m grateful for that, because she needs him in her life. And he needs her too.
Cooper gets us each a coffee from the vending machine while I pace. I have to keep moving. My adrenaline is through the roof, and I can’t sit still.
I’m torn in half. Of course I need to be here with Beth—no question about that—but part of me worries about our kids. If Luke wakes up in the middle of the night, and we’re not there to comfort him, he’ll be upset. I take solace in knowing that Sam is with him. Sam is family.
A nurse comes out to tell us that the procedure is underway. “I’ll keep you posted.”
So, now we wait. And I pace.
Cooper hands me my cup of black coffee. “She’s going to be fine,” he says in his gruff voice.
“I know.”
“No, I mean it. You’re pacing like a man on death’s row. She’s going to be fine. Now sit down and relax.”
“I can’t sit.”
Two hours later, a nurse comes out to the waiting room. “Mr. McIntyre? Everything went well, and your wife is in recovery. You can come see her now.”
“Was it the placenta?”
The nurse nods. “Yes. But don’t worry. Dr. Mitchell says she’ll be fine now.”
I’m struck by an overwhelming sense of relief that they know what caused her fever. Now I just want to see her for myself and make sure she’s all right.
