Tag Fight For Me Read online

  Presley squeezes tight each time he says should. We know all about what should happen, but we are all too familiar with what actually happens. Presley shifts uncomfortably as Dr. Ward tries to pull up an image on the ultrasound screen.

  “Just breathe,” I say low, a reminder for her but also myself.

  After what seems like hours, Dr. Ward points out a small black spot on the screen. “There it is.”

  Presley and I both release the breaths we were holding.

  “As you progress, you’ll start to see your baby in there. Measurements all look good, but I want to check your HCG levels to make sure those have increased as well. You said you’ve never carried past eight weeks, so since we’re almost at the halfway mark I just want to see how things are progressing. I want to stay ahead of any issues if possible.”

  Presley nods, “Okay. Thank you.”

  “The nurse will be in shortly to take your blood and we’ll test inhouse. It will be a few minutes before I will have your results. You can get dressed and wait in here.”

  “Thank you.”

  Seconds after Dr. Ward leaves, a nurse comes in to draw blood. She works quickly and then leaves us to wait. Waiting seems to be the worst. Waiting to be pregnant. Waiting for the test. Waiting to make it past the dreaded eight-week mark. I can only hope that once we pass that point things will be easier on her.

  She takes the seat next to me and rests her head on my shoulder, eventually drifting off into a light sleep. I know she hasn’t slept well since finding out she was pregnant. Her nights are restless, and she wakes up early.

  A gentle knock at the door stirs her and the nurse opens it just a bit. “If you two will follow me.”

  There’s no hiding the fear in her eyes as she looks at me. We both know if everything was fine we would be sent home, but now we are being moved to Dr. Ward’s office. I can't help but pray that this isn’t the beginning of the end. It’s my fault. I should have listened to all of Dr. Wards demands, but I couldn’t deny her what she wanted.

  We take our seats in the black leather chairs in front of the red mahogany desk. “Pres, I’m—”

  The door swings open, and in walks a very determined and frustrated doctor.

  “Presley, I’m going to be straightforward with you when it comes to any and all test results. I’ve never been the kind of doctor that worries about bedside mannerisms. I care about results, and right now I want to keep you pregnant.”

  Presley’s eyes close against his words. I know her heart is about to shatter because I feel the weight of his words. It’s as if cement blocks have been placed over my chest, slowly crushing and shattering the ribs that were intended to keep it safe. “Keep?” she musters out.

  “Your HCG levels have not climbed like I’d hoped for. That doesn’t mean that anything is wrong, but it will require you to come in every two days for blood work to monitor it. Also, your progesterone levels are incredibly low. I’m starting you on a progesterone treatment as well.”

  I look over at Presley and can see her fighting back her tears. The end. I know that’s what she’s thinking. It’s what I’m thinking. This was our biggest fear. I’m a mix of emotions. We’ve never caught a pregnancy so early; we’ve never gotten to enjoy a moment of it before it was over. Had we not known, had it not been for Jax, we could have at least had a few more weeks of ignorant bliss. Had it not been for the dreams, for Gramps, we would have never picked out a name or started bonding to her.

  “This is not the end, but a bump. I meant what I said about keeping you pregnant, Presley, and I will try everything in my power to do that.” His eyes are sympathetic as he looks at her, while all she can muster is a nod. “I’ll give you two a minute.” His voice is almost reverent. “I’ll see you in two days.” He moves from behind his desk and towards the door, the seal on the door breaks but he halts his movements, “Now I’m the one in charge. Do I make myself clear?”

  She nods her head again and this time a tear breaks free. She looks the way I feel, as if we had been sent to the principal’s office, her head hung in shame, shoulders folded inward. She’s accepted defeat and Dr. Ward gallantly leaves the office.

  Her sobs fill the small office as I try to offer her any form of comfort. “Pres, you don’t have to take that from him. We can get a new doctor.”

  “No. I trust him. I have to be ready to take what I dish out. I like him. We need him, Robert. I want him.”

  She doesn’t need my opinions right now; she just needs my support. “If that’s really what you want.”

  Her green eyes find mine, sadness but hope fills them, and she squeezes my hand. “It is.”

  Chapter Six

  Two days later and we are back in Dr. Ward’s office. Presley has been poked like a pincushion; small bruises have already started to form where she has had blood drawn. If this is her fate for the next thirty-seven weeks, I don’t know how much I can stand to watch; black, blues, and greens have already begun to cover her body.

  “It’s only been a couple of days since we’ve started treatments. Sometimes in situations such as this no change can be better than change. We might have caught this early enough to prevent another miscarriage.” Dr. Ward offers a small sympathetic smile. “Presley? After any of your miscarriages was there an ultrasound done to make sure there was no residual pregnancy mater left?”

  Presley and I look at each other as we try to recall any ultrasound being done after the ones that confirmed loss. “No,” we say together. “Just blood work,” she offers.

  Dr. Ward nods and stands from his chair. “Follow me. I want to see if my suspicions are correct.” We follow him down the hallway towards the ultrasound room. He holds the door open for us as we walk through. “I’ll give you a few minutes. You know what to do.”

  Presley nods and as soon as the door is closed, she changes into the paper white gown with blue polka dots, taking her spot on the exam table next to the ultrasound machine. A single knock breaks the silence and Dr. Ward returns to the room. First looking at transvaginal and then using a doppler on her stomach, Dr. Ward’s eyes never leave the monitor. His movements are slow and deliberate, pushing and moving Presley around until he pauses and begins enlarging an image on the screen. “I knew it!”

  “What? What is it?” Presley’s voice is overcome with worry as her eyes dart back and forth between the doctor and the screen. I’m just as anxious to know what seems to have the good doctor in high spirits.

  “Presley, you have something similar to scar tissue on your lining. It’s very small, and I assume it was probably left over from your first miscarriage. It, in a sense, prevents any new growth or life to exist as long as it’s there. Usually, you would have had a procedure to remove it after the miscarriage, but now,” his words trail off. “Presley, leaving it will terminate every pregnancy until it’s removed.”

  There is no wishful thinking for us. We know just how true his words are. “So you’re saying we’re going to lose this baby too.” Her voice quivers with each word she speaks. Tears sting at the back of my eyes as I hold tight to her, wishing for another reason that all our other miscarriages took place. Angry at the doctor that put us in this position.

  “If it remains there, yes. I’m sorry.” Presley breaks and I watch as Dr. Ward does probably the most comforting thing for her. He turns off the monitor and exits the room only to return seconds later with a warm blanket to cover her as she curls into herself on the table. Clinging tightly to my hand, her tears run down my fingers as she seeks some form of relief after the news we’ve been given.

  “You said ‘if it remains’. What’s our other option?” Presley sniffles and looks between me and Dr. Ward.

  He takes a deep breath and sits between the two of us. “At this point it’s dangerous to the pregnancy, given an 83% rate of termination, but, it’s a surgery in which I would go in and try to remove the scar tissue. Once that’s gone you shouldn’t have any issues in the future. But like I said, the termination rate is high,
and you would still be considered high risk for the remainder of this pregnancy, however long that may be.”

  That only gives us a seventeen percent chance we would be able to keep our baby, our little girl. “Do it.”

  “Presley—” Her confident tone startles me as she agrees to the surgery.

  “Robert, if we don’t do this then there is a 100% chance that we will lose this baby. Jax said she was special. Gram is protecting her. We’re doing this surgery.” The look on her face tells me there’s no point in arguing with her.

  “Do you both agree to this?”

  I take a breath and look at Dr. Ward. “If this is what she wants, then yes.” She squeezes my hand, offering a small smile before agreeing. I know she’s eager to become a mother, but now not only do I have a chance of losing one, but both of them.

  “Alright then. I’ll get you admitted and on the schedule for surgery tomorrow at ten in the morning. The nurse will be in shortly. I would call any family that you have to be here with you.”

  Dr. Ward leaves the room as Presley lays curled in a ball. Neither one of us could have foreseen the route today would go. “I’ll be right back,” I say as I kiss her and quickly step out into the hall only to find the good doctor waiting for me.

  “You know you’re too quiet sometimes.” It’s not a statement, but a jab at my character.

  “Is she going to be alright? I understand the risk to the baby, but Presley will be safe, won’t she?”

  “Every surgery has risk and complications, but I will do my best to keep both of them safe. She will stay here for at least a week afterwards so I can monitor everything.” I nod my understanding and begin to utter my thanks.

  “I’ve got to know, you two seem entirely devoted to one another, you know her inside and out, when to speak and when to stay quiet. It’s almost as if you both live for the other. That’s not something you see anymore.” I can't help but smile at his compliment. “How long have you guys been together?”

  “Since we were three.”

  “Wow.” He almost seems surprised at the statement.

  “Doctor, I’ve saved her life, and she’s saved mine, and now I need you to save our daughter’s.”

  He gives a curt nod, “I’ll do my best.” A silent understanding between the two of us. He pushes off the wall and heads down the hallway while I head back into the exam room. Presley hasn’t moved from her spot and I take my seat next to her, interlacing our fingers, giving her hand a light squeeze.

  “What if this doesn’t work? What if something happens to me?”

  I place my lips on her forehead while my hand holds her crown and kiss her hard. “Everything will be ok. You and our daughter have Gram on your side. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  A gentle knock signals the nurse’s arrival. Presley is placed in a wheelchair and I walk beside her following the signs to hospital admittance.

  * * *

  The room is white and cold with the television on in the background. Going into our appointment today, I never envisioned that I would be getting ready for surgery in less than twenty-four hours. I was scared and alone as Robert paced the halls calling our parents and letting them in on what was going on. I shake like a leaf under the thin sheet that passes for a hospital blanket in a room that feels like the Arctic tundra. I want to cry but I’m afraid my tears would turn to icicles before they even slid down my cheeks.

  “Aunty Presley! Aunty Presley!”

  I hear Jackson’s sweet voice long before I see his smiling face as he comes running into the hospital room with Liv waddling behind him. He is my ray of sunshine in the storm we are in.

  “Hey there, buddy!”

  “Aunty Presley! I brought the baby something.” Proudly, he pulls a droopy stuffed elephant from behind his back that looks to be almost the same size as him.

  “Thank you, sweet boy.” He tosses the stuffed elephant up on the bed and then climbs up, curling into a ball on my lap. He instantly lays his head on my stomach, forcing me to choke back my tears while Liv tries to do the same.

  “Hey Jax,” I say with all the confidence I can muster, “I know how much you love this little baby, but right now she’s sick.” My voice quivers past the lump rooted deep in my throat.

  “She’s gonna get better.” His tiny voice is so matter of fact and I wish more than anything I had his confidence right now.

  I swallow hard and quickly wipe a tear away as Liv sits down on the bed offering support. “Buddy I want you to know, tomorrow, the doctor is going to try to get rid of the sickness, but…”

  “But that might hurt the baby, bud.” Liv finishes what I can't. “This baby might have to go be with Gram.”

  My shoulders tremble as I hold back my tears from this precious and innocent ‘almost’ three-year-old. Eighty-three percent chance that when I wake up after surgery tomorrow I won't be pregnant. I drop my head back against the pillow in an attempt to hide my tears.

  Two tiny lips press against the hospital gown and in a tone that conveys his confidence, Jax gives me hope. “No. Baby knows to stay away. She’ll be here tomorrow. I’ll bring her some lemonade tomorrow night. She likes sour things.”

  How is it that this little boy seems so sure of everything? Never once has he faltered, or lost hope. Never once has he worried about our little girl but has always been so self-assured in her presence. I pull him up to my chest and wrap my arms as tightly as I can around him, giving him the biggest hug and kiss I can possibly manage. “I love you so much, you know that?”

  “Yep! You’re gonna be the bestest Mommy ever, Aunty Presley.”

  “Hey now!” Liv attempts to act offended but offers a hidden wink in my direction. “What about me?”

  “You’re the bestest Mommy too.” His smile reaches from ear to ear as Liv messes with his sandy blond hair.

  “Come on, buddy. We need to go get Kringle. He’s staying at our house again.”

  In no time flat, Jax is off the bed and jumping up and down. “Yay! Bye Aunty Presley.” His hand flies through the air as he waves franticly and I offer my goodbye to him before Liv pulls me to her, kissing my forehead and saying her goodbye.

  “Trey and I will be here tomorrow. Try to get some rest. Everything’s gonna be fine, Pres; you heard the baby whisperer.”

  “Do you think he’s right?”

  “Has he ever been wrong?” We smile at each other and Jackson pulls Liv out the door, saying a quick hello and goodbye to Robert as he heads into the room.

  I scoot over on the bed, making room for him, and rest my head on his chest, while his strong arms holds me securely against him. His body is my own personal furnace and my body can finally relax against him.

  “So everyone will be here tomorrow.”

  “Everyone?”

  “Walter is using his private plane to bring everyone down. Rick and Laura are catching a flight first thing in the morning. They’re all coming for us, Pres. For you and for her.”

  Fear surges through my veins. “Do you think we made the right decision, Robert?”

  His chest rises and falls, lips firm against my head as he squeezes me tight. “I think a 17% chance of life sounds a lot better than 100% chance of death. It’s not a great success rate, but it’s something. And if it works, well then, hopefully the next pregnancy’s will be full of joy.”

  “Next ones?” I giggle out, “Let’s just focus on this one.”

  “You weren’t thinking one and done, were you?”

  I look at him and see the uncertainty in his eyes before my lips brush against his. “Absolutely not.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Gram, I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose this one too.”

  “You will continue living, and you and Robert will go on to have more children. But you will not lose her. This is it. You have been given a gift. Now take it.”

  “How did you do it? You always seemed so sure of yourself. You were always the strong one in the family.”

  Her lau
ghter sounds almost angelic, “Oh honey, one of the strongest things I ever did was asking your grandfather for help when I truly needed it. Being strong doesn’t mean painting on a brave face for everyone, it means knowing when a situation is so much bigger than you and letting people help you. It’s okay to be afraid, Presley. That man of yours is just as scared as you are, and right now he’s terrified of losing you both. Those people in that waiting room are just as much here for him as they are for you, maybe even more so.

  “I remember that day you stormed out of the house and almost got yourself killed.”

  “That day changed everything for us.”

  “Honey, he knew that day how much he loved you. And no matter the outcome of this procedure, he will continue to love you. Now it’s time for you to get back.”

  “Wait! What about the others?”

  “Oh, those little ones keep me young. They are beautiful little spirits. Don’t you worry about them, I’ll watch over them until you can meet them one day. Now go my dear; you have a room full of people waiting on you.”

  “I miss you.”

  “I miss you to dear, but it’s time to go back.”

  * * *

  I pace the waiting room like a wild animal adapting to a cage. What’s taking so long? Dr. Ward said the procedure shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours and it’s almost two in the afternoon. No one has come out to tell me anything. It’s been four hours since they rolled her out of the room and through the double doors that lead to the surgery wing of the hospital.

  Finally, a nurse sits down at the nurses’ station, giving me a chance to find out any information. “Hello, my wife is in with Dr. Ward. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

  She doesn’t look at me, but there is something unsettling about her tone, “The doctor will be out shortly.”