That had been before the storm of her labor and the blur of
her own chaotic delivery. Now here she was, a new mother,
nearly four months early. Unbelievable. What in God’s name had
happened? Hardest to think about was whether her son would
survive. She tried not to let her mind go there but couldn’t help
thinking the worst. She needed Adam. Where was he?
An antiseptic smell hung in the air. She read Triage written
backward on the window of the door at the other end of the
room. There were no windows, and the beige linoleum and fluo
rescent lighting made for a bleak backdrop. This was supposed to
be a happy place where new lives were born. Instead, Sophie was
depressed—she felt empty both physically and emotionally. Her
baby was somewhere upstairs in the intensive care nursery. Her
life had turned inside out in a matter of minutes.
Carol had called Adam’s school, and he was on his way.
He’d missed the birth of their son. Disappointed and exhausted,
Sophie closed her eyes and drifted off. She heard babies crying,
then the voices of nurses soothing them. She heard Blu bark
ing, then saw Adam wearing two surgical masks—one over his
mouth, the other on his forehead.
Rousing from her twilight doze, she realized it was all a dream.
She heard loud voices coming from the next gurney over, bringing
her fully awake. Before a nurse yanked the curtain closed, Sophie
caught a quick look at the woman lying there. It was Anna.
Beneath the curtain, Sophie could see the legs and feet of
12
JULIE HATCH
the triage staff moving quickly around her gurney. She heard
the edgy voices of doctors and nurses talking loudly over each
other. An alarm sounded. Someone silenced it, only for it to
immediately start again. Two people with tourniquets hanging
from the pockets of their white coats ran in behind the cur
tain. An ultrasound tech rolled her portable machine behind
the curtain, forcing staff to move aside. There was too much
activity. Anna was in trouble. Carol’s voice rose above the din
of noise. “Stay with me, Anna. It’s going to be okay. Just stay
with me.”
Sophie listened as the commotion grew. Puddles of blood
formed under her gurney. Doctors and nurses emerged from
behind the curtain to run for more supplies, their scrubs covered
in blood. There was too much shouting, too many people.
Three nurses rushed in to help, leaving the curtain partially
open. Anna turned her head in Sophie’s direction. Anna’s legs
were splayed open; her right arm hung lifeless over the rail of the
gurney. She looked so pale and scared, not making a sound.
Sophie smiled and raised a hand to her. Anna closed her eyes.
“No. Anna, hang on. Listen to Carol and stay with her. Come
on, Anna!” Sophie begged.
Carol yelled out orders: “Send off a blood gas now! What’s
her blood pressure? Give her more fluid—just leave the IV wide
open.” Nurses rushed around Anna. “She’s hemorrhaging. Get
four units of O-negative ready to transfuse. We need Dr. Wagner
over here right now.”
Sophie couldn’t pull her eyes away from the drama. Anna’s
bra and underpants had been cut off and thrown on the floor. IV
bags and tubing, medication vials, countless surgical pads, and
bloody sheets and towels were strewn everywhere. Anna looked
unconscious.
“Be ready to intubate. She’s going into shock!”
A woman clad in blue scrubs put a tube down Anna’s throat.
13
THE VERY BEST OF CARE
“She’s still hemorrhaging. She needs that blood now! And
get the blood bank to send up two units of FFP.”
Two nurses squeezed the transfusion bags full of viscous dark
blood into Anna’s veins. Sophie heard the wet slap of feet step
ping through the puddles of blood.
Dr. Wagner forced his way through the crowd. “We have
to section her, now. There’s no time to get her to the operating
room. We’re doing the C-section here—stat!”
The nurses rushed to put together a makeshift sterile section
of triage with portable curtain dividers and blue drapes thrown
together to make a barrier. Again, Sophie lost sight of Anna. She
heard more than she saw—the clamor of multiple alarms ringing,
people yelling over each other, Dr. Wagner shouting out orders,
the clanging of metal surgical instruments, bloody towels thrown
on the floor. The nurses behind the curtain talked louder and
faster. Thirty more seconds of this, then the weak whimper of a
baby. Sophie breathed a sigh of relief.
An eerie hush fell. Slowly, the blue drapes were taken down.
Sophie saw two nurses standing over Anna’s lifeless body. They
pulled their surgical masks down, shocked looks on their faces.
Sophie heard the low flatline monotone coming from the moni
tor before Carol turned it off, leaving a deathly silence.
Anna’s blood slowed to a trickle, dripping slowly onto the
floor, where it had started to congeal. The metallic smell cut
through any hint of disinfectant. Dr. Wagner stood next to Anna’s
gurney, gazing at the floor and absently rubbing his forehead. As
one nurse pulled the sheet up over Anna’s face, another nurse
bundled the baby, put her in a transporter, and rushed her away.
