Gabriel's Redemption

Chapter Eighty-three

Julia?” Gabriel held her hand as the next contraction gripped her. He kept a watchful eye on the monitor so he could announce when the contraction was beginning to subside, and then afterward he would gently stroke her knuckles or her forehead, praising her.

“You’re doing so well.”

Gabriel was not. He was disheveled and nervous and, if he were to take the time to think about it, extremely concerned. Despite the fact that they were in a well-respected hospital in Boston and enjoying excellent medical care, he was terrified.

He kept his fears to himself, silently praying over and over that Julia and Spring Roll would be all right.

Shortly before nine o’clock in the evening, Julia began to run a fever. By that time, Dr. Rubio was on call. She examined Julia and ordered an antibiotic added to her intravenous drip.

Gabriel chewed at his lip as he watched the nurse hang the bag next to the other fluids that slowly dripped into his wife’s arm.

Dr. Rubio broke Julia’s water and encouraged her to begin pushing. Her epidural succeeded in taking only some of the pain away, and much of it remained. Julia still had feeling in the lower half of her body.

Nurse Susan held one of Julia’s legs while Gabriel held the other. She pushed with each contraction, and although Dr. Rubio and Gabriel cheered her on, very little happened. Eventually the obstetrician admitted what Gabriel had been afraid of—Spring Roll was stubbornly maintaining her transverse position, and she was situated too high up to be delivered with forceps.

Julia groaned weakly at the news, collapsing back on the bed in near exhaustion.

“What does that mean?” asked Gabriel quietly, his hands folding into fists.

Dr. Rubio pursed her lips.

“It means we need to do an emergency cesarean section. The baby’s heart rate is beginning to increase, your wife is running a fever, and it’s possible there’s an infection. I’ll assemble my surgical team, but we need to do this right away.”

“That’s fine with me,” said Julia. She was tired. Oh, so tired. The idea of having an end to labor brought welcome relief.

“Are you sure?” Gabriel nervously clutched her hand.

“There really aren’t any other options, Mr. Emerson. I can’t deliver this baby in the position she’s in.” Dr. Rubio’s voice was firm.

“As I told you before, it’s Professor Emerson,” he snapped, his frazzled emotions getting the best of him.

“Sweetie, relax. We’re going to be fine.” Julia smiled thinly and closed her eyes, willing herself to outlast the contractions that continued wracking her body.

Gabriel poured his apology into a chaste kiss and a few whispered words of comfort before Julia’s room became an epicenter of activity. The anesthesiologist arrived and asked a series of questions. The nurse asked Gabriel to follow her so that he could change into surgical scrubs.

He did not want to be separated from Julia, not even for an instant. He’d spent hours at her side, feeding her ice chips and holding her hand. But since he wanted to be with her in the operating room and it was a sterile environment, he agreed to go.

Before he left, Julia extended her hand. He took it, pressing his lips to her palm.

“I don’t regret this,” she whispered.

He pulled back. The pain medication seemed to be affecting her thought processes.

“What don’t you regret, darling?”

“Getting pregnant. After this is over, we’re going to have a little girl. We’ll be a family. Forever.”

He gave her a tight smile and kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you in a few minutes. You stay strong.”

She returned his smile and closed her eyes, adjusting her breathing in order to deal with the next contraction.