Chapter 2 - SIX MINUTES
The ambulance doors slammed shut.
Everything became noise.
Sirens.
Monitor alarms.
Velcro straps.
Medical questions.
My own breathing.
One paramedic pressed sensors against my stomach.
The expression on his face tightened.
“What is it?”
He did not answer immediately.
He adjusted the monitor.
“Baby A’s heart rate is dropping.”
My blood turned cold.
“What about Baby B?”
“Still stable.”
“Is my baby dying?”
“We’re doing everything we can.”
That answer terrified me more than a lie would have.
The ambulance accelerated.
I grabbed the paramedic’s wrist.
“Please save them.”
He looked directly at me.
“That is exactly what we’re going to do.”
The hospital was only six minutes away.
It felt like an hour.
The doors opened before the ambulance had fully stopped.
A medical team was already waiting.
They rolled me down a bright corridor while doctors shouted information over my head.
“Thirty-eight-week twin gestation.”
“Possible placental abruption.”
“Fetal distress on Twin A.”
“Maternal blood pressure dropping.”
Someone asked for my emergency contact.
I almost laughed.
My emergency contact was comparing handbags with his mother.
“Travis Morgan.”
“What’s his number?”
“It’s in my phone.”
A nurse took it.
Another contraction hit.
I screamed.
A woman in blue scrubs leaned over me.
“I’m Dr. Patel.”
“We need to deliver these babies immediately.”
“Can I do it naturally?”
She shook her head.
“Not safely.”
My stomach dropped.
“C-section?”
“Yes.”
“Now.”
I signed forms with a trembling hand.
The operating room lights were brutally bright.
Someone asked where my husband was.
I closed my eyes.
“Please stop asking me that.”
The room fell silent.
“I’m sorry,” the nurse whispered.
The medication began working.
The pain changed.
The pressure remained.
I stared at the ceiling while strangers fought to save my children.
Then I heard a cry.
Thin.
Sharp.
Beautiful.
“Baby B is out.”
Tears flooded my eyes.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s breathing.”
I barely had time to process the word she.
Then the room changed.
Nobody celebrated the second baby.
Voices became quicker.
More urgent.
“Come on.”
“Stimulate.”
“Heart rate?”
“Seventy.”
“Move.”
I tried to lift my head.
“What’s happening?”
A nurse gently pushed my shoulder down.
“My son?”
No one answered.
“My other baby?”
Dr. Patel looked over the surgical curtain.
Her eyes were calm.
Her voice was not.
“Claire, your second baby needs help breathing.”
The next minute became the longest minute of my life.
I heard equipment moving.
I heard orders.
I heard my own sobbing.
Then someone finally said the words I needed.
“We have him.”
I broke apart.
My son was alive.
But he was rushed directly to the neonatal intensive care unit.
I saw him for only three seconds.
Tiny.
Pale.
Surrounded by hands.
My daughter was placed briefly against my chest before she was taken for examination.
I kissed her forehead.
“I’m here.”
May you like
But as the anesthesia pulled me downward, another thought followed me into darkness.
Travis still had no idea his children had already been born.
