Chapter 10 - The Treatment That Could Save Her
Dr. Brooks met us the next afternoon.
Sophie was pale but stable.
The fever had dropped.
I had slept forty minutes.
Sophie had slept less.
Dr. Brooks placed several pages on the table.
“The first medication isn't producing the response I wanted.”
Sophie stared at her.
“How bad?”
“Your hCG fell initially.”
“Initially?”
“It has plateaued.”
I watched Sophie's face.
She understood before I did.
“So we change treatment.”
“Yes.”
“To what?”
Dr. Brooks named a combination of medications.
I didn't remember every word.
I remembered the possible side effects.
Nausea.
Infection.
Fatigue.
Organ toxicity.
Hair loss.
Potential impact on fertility.
That last one changed the room.
Sophie looked at the doctor.
“What did you say?”
Dr. Brooks slowed down.
“There is a possibility that treatment could affect your ability to carry a pregnancy in the future.”
Sophie became completely still.
“No.”
“Sophie.”
“No.”
I reached toward her.
She pulled her hand away.
“We already lost three.”
Her voice cracked.
“I am not losing the possibility too.”
Dr. Brooks spoke gently.
“I understand.”
“No, you don't.”
“Sophie.”
“You have no idea what you're asking me to give up.”
The doctor let her anger exist.
I admired her for that.
Finally, Dr. Brooks said, “I'm asking you to choose the treatment with the best chance of keeping you alive.”
Sophie turned toward me.
I wished she hadn't.
Because there was a question in her eyes.
And there was no painless answer.
“What would you do?”
I took a breath.
“Choose the treatment.”
Her face collapsed.
I continued before she could misunderstand.
“I wanted our children.”
My voice shook.
“I wanted them more than I ever told you.”
She looked down.
“But I want you alive more.”
A tear slid down her cheek.
“What if this was our last chance?”
“Then we grieve that too.”
She looked at me.
“Together?”
The word barely existed.
I nodded.
“If you'll let me.”
Sophie cried silently.
Dr. Brooks left the room to give us privacy.
After several minutes, Sophie whispered, “I don't know who I am if I never become a mother.”
I moved my chair closer.
“You're Sophie.”
“That isn't enough.”
“It was enough for me before we ever tried to have children.”
She shook her head.
“You divorced me.”
The truth cut deep.
“I divorced you because I was afraid of how much I still loved you.”
She stared at me.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“I know.”
For the first time, I said the sentence without protecting myself.
“I was a coward.”
Sophie looked away.
Then she reached for the consent form.
Her hand trembled.
I covered it with mine.
She didn't pull away.
Together, we signed nothing.
It wasn't my decision.
It had to be hers.
May you like
Sophie signed her own name.
And underneath the signature, one tear landed on the paper.
