She nodded and left me, going back to the OR table to speak with the other staff. I watched through the window as they transferred Kate from the gurney to the OR table, shocked at the blood I saw covering her thighs. In seconds, someone had a unit of blood up on the IV pole and began infusing it. The anesthetist had a mask over her face and they began to drape her and prepare her for a crash C-section.
One of the nursing staff came to me and took my arm. “Come into the conference room, Dr. Morgan,” she said in a soft voice. “You can watch the video feed.”
ORs were often videotaped for teaching purposes. I could watch the entire procedure from the conference room.
A crash C-Section is the way it sounds – everything moves extremely fast because, usually, surgeons are trying to save the baby’s or mother’s lives. Often both. That was the case now, as Kate and Sophia were both in danger. If the abruption was too extensive, Kate would bleed too much before they could deliver the baby, and the baby would be without oxygen for too long and die. The veins and arteries in the uterus were large and the placenta had a rich blood supply. Kate was in danger from hemorrhage as well, let alone any head or other internal injury she might have sustained. Depending on how long it took to deliver the baby and tie off any bleeders, she could lose even more blood.
All the permutations went through my mind – everything I learned in medical school – the possible complications. The risks. I felt completely helpless for the first time in a long time, watching as the surgeon made an incision and began to cut through the layers of skin, subcutaneous fat, muscle and the uterus itself to get to the baby.
To Sophia.
I wiped my eyes and watched as they laid Kate on the operating table, her arm stretched out for the IV, a tube down her throat, leads going from her chest to measure her vitals. Blood dripped off the table onto the floor as they pulled my daughter out of Kate’s womb and I wept when I saw her limp body in their hands, waiting to find if she was still alive.
Far too tiny, red, wrinkly, covered in blood.
Sophia Marie McDermott Morgan.
They transferred her quickly to a waiting table where they worked on her, intubating her, attaching ECG leads, cleaning her off, putting in an IV, then I saw the reassuring and very rapid blip of her heart on a monitor, and I leaned closer, my vision blurred, trying hard to see her.
One of the nurses turned to the video camera, and held her thumb up to signal to me that she was alive.
She was alive.
Now that I knew Sophia had survived delivery, I turned my focus to Kate, and watched as they searched in her body to find the source of bleeding, hoping to cauterize and stitch up any wounds so they could stop the bleeding from the abruption and any other internal injuries. They worked away and then I saw a nurse hang another unit of packed cells on the pole. And then another.
That wasn’t good – Kate was losing blood too fast. At some point, if they gave her too many transfusions, her clotting mechanism would give out and she could bleed to death, despite their best efforts. I knew only too well that death from automobile crashes was the highest cause of death for pregnant women.
I watched as the nurses talked to each other, and I tried to turn up the volume so I could hear but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. No one was using any mics so all I had was video feed and one mic that was always on, but it relayed only a murmur for it was too far from the action.
One of the nurses went to the door and spoke with someone outside of the OR theater. Soon, I heard a light tap at the door and in walked Dr. McAllister, her face the usual focused calm.
“Drake, I’m so sorry about this,” she said and came to take my hand. “The good news is that your baby is fine. She was well-oxygenated the entire time so there’s little chance that there are any lasting issues since the abruption was minimal. They’re having problems stopping Kate’s bleeding from internal injuries to her spleen and a small tear in her uterine wall. They’re going to have to take her spleen and do a hysterectomy to save Kate’s life.”
I nodded, and wiped my eyes. “Save her life,” I said, my voice shaking. “She’s too young to die.”
“I just wanted you to know that they have to take her uterus. I’m sure you understand.”
She squeezed my hand and I nodded in understanding.
They didn’t take a uterus out lightly. It was done to save Kate’s life.
I turned back to the screen when McAllister left the room and watched as they worked on Kate, unable to really see anything specific, but I knew the process. Cut off the blood supply to the uterus, clamping any vessels that were bleeding. Cutting the broad ligaments that supported the uterus inside the body, then removing the uterus itself entirely, careful to preserve the ovaries if possible.
Kate would never get pregnant again. She’d never carry another baby of her own again and I wished so hard at that moment that I had spent more time with her while she was pregnant, feeling her belly, feeling Sophia moving inside of
her, enjoying Kate’s ripe body as she carried our daughter, giving her life.
Tears flowed down my face and I didn’t care, because once more, I had been far too busy in my life, far too preoccupied with my career, with my fellowship, and with getting my certification and not enough time with the beautiful amazing woman who made my life meaningful.
I felt so bad for Kate – she’d given up so much to have this baby. Her MA thesis on hold, all alone during the day at our apartment due to morning sickness, seeing me only a few hours each night. Now, to lose her uterus…
There was always surrogacy and adoption, but what was more important to me was saving her life and that was all that mattered to me.
I had finally found the love of my life and I couldn’t bear the thought I’d lose her not even a year since we were married. I prayed at that moment, despite not being a very religious man.
I prayed to God, to the gods, to any overarching power in the universe, to save Kate’s life.
An hour later, they had found all the bleeders, and were busy closing Kate up, having removed her spleen and uterus. She’d received another unit of blood and her vitals were critical but stable as they wheeled her into the ICU. I followed along in the hallway, getting a report from the ER doc.