Chapter 8 - The Emergency
Three weeks later, the winter storm of the decade struck the city.
Fourteen inches of snow had paralyzed the streets by 9:00 p.m. Emergency vehicles were struggling to navigate the icy roads, and half the city’s transit system had been shut down.
I was thirty-four weeks pregnant.
I stood in my kitchen, pouring a glass of water, when a sudden, blinding spike of pain shot through my lower abdomen.
I gasped, dropping the glass onto the hardwood floor, where it shattered into a hundred pieces.
I grabbed the edge of the granite countertop, doubling over as another wave of intense, crushing agony ripped through my back and uterus.
A placental abruption.
As an ER doctor, I recognized the symptoms instantly. The sudden, severe pain, the rigid tightness of my abdomen, the feeling of cold sweat breaking out across my forehead. My baby was in immediate danger of losing his oxygen supply.
“No... no, no, please...” I sobbed, sinking to my knees among the glass shards, holding my stomach.
My phone was sitting on the dining table six feet away.
Using every ounce of strength in my trembling body, I dragged myself across the floor, reaching up to grab the phone.
I didn't call 911—I knew the ambulances were delayed by hours due to the blizzard.
I pressed speed dial #1—a number I had quietly restored two weeks ago.
Elias picked up on the second ring.
“Adelaide?”
“Elias... help me...” I gasped, my voice barely a whisper. “Something’s wrong... the baby... pain...”
“I’m coming!” he shouted through the speaker. “I’m five minutes away! Stay on the phone with me!”
Five minutes felt like five agonizing centuries.
I lay on my side on the living room rug, holding my breath through every agonizing contraction, praying with everything I had that my baby boy would keep fighting.
The front door was suddenly thrown open with a violent crash.
Elias rushed inside, his snow-covered coat flying open. When he saw me lying on the floor, he let out a choked cry and dropped to his knees beside me.
“Adelaide! I’m here! I’ve got you!” he cried, gently scooping me into his massive, strong arms.
“Placental... abruption...” I managed to choke out through the agony. “We need... an operating room... right now...”
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Elias didn't waste a single second asking questions. He lifted me effortlessly into his arms, carrying me out of the apartment, down the stairs, and out into the howling blizzard where his massive four-wheel-drive SUV was idling on the curb, hazard lights flashing red against the white snow.
He laid me carefully across the heated back seat, leaped into the driver’s seat, and slammed his foot onto the gas pedal, tearing through the snow-bound streets toward Riverside Medical Center like a man fighting death itself.
