First and Last (33 page)

Most people probably think we’re out here with water putting these things out, but they’re wrong. What we do is much more back breaking. We’re basically extreme landscapers. We dig trenches and clear paths by removing anything that will burn. It’s hard for a fire to cross over a plain, dirt path. It helps slow it down, giving the planes that drop water on it a chance to get ahead and eventually put it out.

The smell gets stronger and stronger as we get closer. I know we’re almost there when the air feels thick with smoke and sweat beads down my temples. Dropping our packs, we get out our axes, picks, and chainsaws, and get to work.

We’ve been at it for two hours when Chief pats me on the back and says he needs to talk to me. We step to the side and concern hits me instantly. He rubs his neck, looking anxious.

“What’s up, sir?” I ask when he doesn’t come out with it.

“I got a call on the radio from base. It’s about your wife.”

All the blood drains from my body and my heart falls to the pit of my stomach. “What about her? Is she alright?”

“She called and said her neighbor took her to the ER. She started bleeding.”

“Oh, God, she’s only two months pregnant.” I stumble back a few steps as the reality of what could be happening sets in. “Is she okay? What about the baby?” I ask, becoming more frantic for answers as the seconds pass.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. She was on her way when she called.”

“I-I gotta go. I gotta get out of here.” I drop my ax and start pacing, my mind going a million directions with no clear plan on where to go. I’m out in the middle of fucking nowhere. How am I going to get to her?

“I’ve already told them to come get you. They’re sending a helicopter to the drop zone to lift you out with the litter basket.”

“Okay, thanks, Chief.” I take off running, ducking and jumping over branches as I get to the pick-up spot as fast as I can without killing myself. The whole way all I can do is pray that she and the baby are okay. Please, God, let them be okay. I don’t know what I’ll do if something happens to either of them.

The next hour or so goes by in a blur. I’m on autopilot as I move with one purpose: get to Mia. All I know is one second I’m running through the forest, and the next I’m running down the hall of the hospital. I burst in her room and my eyes search in panic for my wife. When they land on her, a small amount of relief hits me that she’s okay, but it’s short lived since I still don’t know what’s going on.

“Oh my God, Mia. I got here as soon as I could. Are you okay? What about the baby?” I hold her face in my hands as I search her blue eyes.

She nods. “I’m okay. They did an ultrasound, and the baby has a heartbeat, which is good. I’m just waiting on the doctor to come back in.”

The baby has a heartbeat.

I take what feels like my first breath since Chief pulled me aside. That has to be promising, right?

“Where’s Aubrey?”

“Susan took her back home for me.” Susan’s our neighbor who watches Aubrey for us every now and then.

Concern mixed with anger hits me. “You were going to stay here by yourself?” There was no guarantee that I’d leave when she called. Chief might not have gotten the message or the helicopter wasn’t ready to come pick me up. If something bad was happening, she’d be going through it alone. And that upsets me.

She shrugs. “You know how hospitals are. I’ll be here a while and I don’t want her here. This isn’t exactly a kid-friendly place.”

My hands brush through my hair in frustration. I should have been there for her. It should have been me that took her to the hospital and she’s been sitting here alone. “Mia . . .” I don’t even know what to say to her. Part of me wants to scold her for not thinking of herself, but the other part wants to kiss the shit out of her for always being so damn selfless. I go with the latter.

Holding her face in both of my hands, I shake my head as I look at her. I close the distance and place my lips on her softly. One, two, three times, before pulling away and sitting down next to her bed. My hand never lets go of hers, even when the nurse comes in to check on her.

It takes forever for the doctor to come back in. Of course, this isn’t her normal OB, and this guy looks as though he’d rather be anywhere other than in this room.

“All your tests came back normal. As I told you before, even if you were to miscarry at this stage of your pregnancy, there’s nothing we could do. You’re only eleven weeks, so it is what it is.”

“It is what it is?” I repeat, rage building inside me. My free hand clenches at my side and my whole body tenses up.

“Well, what I mean is—”

“No, I know exactly what you mean, doc. But you could work on your bedside manner, don’t you think? We thought we were losing a child, and you’re treating it like it’s no big fucking deal. Like oh well, the park is closed today.” I stare holes into his face, making him increasingly uncomfortable.

He shifts from foot to foot before clearing his throat. “My apologies, Mr. Collins. I meant no disrespect.” I don’t respond. “Uh, anyway,” he says, looking at his clipboard. “Everything looks good. Bleeding has stopped, yes?” he asks Mia.

“As far as I know, yes.”

“Good. Given the color, amount, and lack of other signs, it seems you probably just popped a blood vessel on your cervix.”

“Popped blood vessel?” Mia asks, her eyebrows wrinkled in confusion.

“During pregnancy, your cervix is soft and thin, so it’s actually not an uncommon thing. I’d take it easy for the next couple days and make an appointment with your obstetrician. If anymore bleeding occurs, come back immediately, okay?”

We both nod. “So the baby is okay?” I question.

“Yes, it appears that way. Ultrasound showed a strong heartbeat, normal fluids in the sac, and no rupture or tearing of the placenta. As far as I can tell, the baby looks perfect.”

My thumb strokes the back of Mia’s hand as I look at her with a relieved smile. Our baby is going to be fine. My shoulders slump forward, the tension leaving my body with the good news.

“I’m going to get your discharge papers ready and then you’re free to go.” With that, he walks out of the room.

“I was so scared,” she whispers, letting her true feelings finally show. She was so strong and stoic moments before that I didn’t realize how upset she was too. “I went to the bathroom and there was all this blood. I started crying and called Susan.”

My hand brushes the hair at her face. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Guilt hits me square in the chest. She was afraid and upset and I was nowhere near. And she was planning to deal with whatever the doctors told her alone.

“You’re here now.” She leans into my touch.

I shake my head in disagreement. “No, I was here over an hour after you needed me.”

“Blake, you were at work, not off partying or out with the guys. I understand the demands of your job and there was no way either of us knew this was going to happen. Don’t beat yourself up over something that neither of us controls.” She turns her head and kisses my palm.

“You amaze me. Every damn day.” Leaning in, I do the one thing I never seem to get enough of. I kiss my wife and hold her close, hoping one day I’ll be as strong as she is.

December 13, 2013

S
ummer went by so fast. I blinked, and it was over. Of course, that was probably due to the fact I was working non-stop.

I missed a lot of the beginning stages of Mia’s pregnancy. She was already five months along before things started to slow down at the end of September. Since then, most of my time has been spent rubbing her feet, feeding the hangry monster, and chasing after Aubrey.

“Do you need anything while I’m out?” I ask her. “A doughnut? Cake? The ice cream truck?” I dodge the pillow she throws at me from the couch, laughing as I do.

“Jerk,” she says under her breath.

I snicker the whole way to the door. “Bring me some Twinkies!” she yells at me. I let out a chuckle while shaking my head, then go get my girl some Twinkies.

When I come back, Aubrey is sitting in the living room playing with some of her toys. “Hey, baby girl. Where’s Mommy?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs her little shoulders and continues to play. A typical three-year-old with not a care in the world.

“Hmm.” Placing the bags on the counter, I go in search of her. “Mia, I’m home. I went above and beyond and got you
two
boxes of Twinkies.” I look in our bedroom and don’t see her, so I keep moving down the hallway. “Husband of the year right here.”

She’s not in Aubrey or the new baby’s room either. “Mia?” Looking into the guest bathroom, my heart sinks when I see her. Bracing herself on the sink, she takes several deep breaths. When she looks at me, I see nothing but fear all over her face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, rushing to her.

“My water broke.” She looks at her feet, standing in a puddle.

“But–but you’re not close to your due date yet. You still have over two months!” Shock and disbelief that this is happening hits me before I spring into action. “We need to get you to the hospital. Sit down and I’ll be right back.” I help her sit on the closed toilet then sprint down the hallway, grab Aubrey, and run to the neighbor’s house. My adrenaline is coursing through my veins as I bounce impatiently waiting for her to answer the door.

“Hey, B—”

“Mia’s water broke. Can you watch Aubrey? I’ve gotta rush her to the hospital.”

“Yes, of course.”

“You’ve got the spare key, so if she needs something feel free to come over and get it. I didn’t pack anything for her.”

“We’re fine. Go. Take care of her.” She waves me off and I run back, throwing a “thank you” over my shoulder before I enter the house.

Mia’s in the same spot as I left her, clutching her stomach like if she holds it tight enough, all of this will stop. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Okay, let’s go.” Scooping her up, I carry her to the car, load her up, and drive as fast as I can without crashing. This feels like July when I got the call while I was at work all over again. The unknown, the fear, the anxiety to get there. It’s killing me. All I want is for both of them to be healthy.

I pull up to the front of the hospital and run around to help Mia out. Rushing her inside, I tell the front desk what’s going on. Everything happens so quickly. Given that she’s only thirty-one weeks pregnant and her water has broken, they rush her in immediately. They have monitors and all kinds of things hooked up to her within minutes. I have no idea what’s going on and the doctors and nurses aren’t telling us anything. I feel useless as I stand there and watch them run around frantically. The noises and chatter become a dull hum as I stare unmoving at everyone.

“What’s going on?” I ask the next nurse that passes by, snapping out of it.

“Hold on, sir.” She’s snippy before resuming her duties.

I look at Mia and it breaks my heart. Her eyes are wide, full of fear as she follows the bodies moving around the room. I know she’s not scared for herself; she’s scared for our unborn son. I grab her hand and squeeze, trying to comfort her in any way I can.

“Mr. and Mrs. Collins, I’m Dr. Phillips and I’m the on-call doctor here today. We’re going to run some tests to see if there’s an infection that caused your water to break. If there is, it’s safer to deliver the baby than try to stop your labor. Of course, that also depends on how much fluid is left in the sac as well.”