Carrying The Surgeon's Baby

“You okay?” he asked.

“Fine.”

Liar.

“You look a bit pale. Are you overdoing it?”

“No. I’m fine. Let’s go, they’re waiting for us in OR two and I don’t want that patient in therapeutic hypothermia any longer than he has to be.”

“Lead the way.”

Emily led Ryan down to the OR floor. They didn’t say anything to each other, but she could feel the stares as they passed through the halls. Gossip spread like wildfire in this hospital and she would have to have a word with Dr. Teal.

They stopped just outside the wide hall that led toward the many operating rooms. She pulled on her scrub cap and showed Ryan where to get a generic one. She hung up her white lab coat, changed her shoes. Ryan covered his shoes with booties. He’d have a pair of sneakers that would be just for the OR floor.

“You ready?” she asked.

“Always.” He smiled at her and it was full of confidence.

“Come on.” She punched in a code and opened the door. She always liked this walk down the hallway. It was calming. There were gurneys and equipment waiting in the wings, sometimes there would be a gurney roll by that was accompanied by a parent and a child life support person as SMFPC supported the parental presence at induction, and those cases always made her smile.

There was fear in the parents’ eyes, hidden behind their masks, but they were strong for their children and their presence really promoted the well-being and health of the children.

Then there were cases like this little boy they were attending.

Priority A, where a young life was on the line.

She ran a hand over her belly and glanced up at Ryan, whose gaze was on her belly, before he met her eyes briefly. There was pain in his eyes, but also fear.

“The scrub room is here,” she said, breaking the tension that fell between them.

He nodded and walked into the room before her. The scrub room overlooked the operating room where their young patient was lying. The rest of the operating room team was prepping him and the anesthesiologists were waiting.

Ryan was scrubbing, staring at his patient intently, as she often did herself. She would play out the surgery in her mind, like a playbook.

“Do you think you’ll be successful?” she asked, because she knew he was a great neurosurgeon but she’d never worked with him before and none of the neurosurgeons at SMFPC would ever attempt therapeutic hypothermia on a child younger than sixteen. Ryan was a bit of a maverick. Maybe that’s why she’d been so attracted to him in the first place. He was so different from Robert, who had always done things by the book.

So different from her.

“Of course.” He smiled confidently. “I’ve done this before.”

“Good, because I’ve never done this.”

“You’ve never done a spinal decompression and a repair of a fracture?”

“Yes. I’ve assisted with that, but I’ve never dealt with a child in hypothermia like this.”

“It’ll work, Emily,” Ryan said gently, before he shook off his hands and toweled them dry. “Trust me.”

Emily continued scrubbing as he headed into the operating room. He’d asked her to trust him and she wanted to do that, for their patient’s sake, but she had a hard time trusting someone she didn’t know.

She liked routine. She liked certain anesthesiologists, certain residents, certain scrub nurses in her operating room. The routine gave her a sense of calm, and she’d never worked with Ryan before.

He’s the best.

And that’s what she had to keep telling herself. She shook off her hands and then headed into the operating room. Her favorite scrub nurse, Nancy, helped her into her gown and gloves. Emily also had to remind herself that she was not lead surgeon here.

Ryan was.

She might be the head of pediatric surgery, but he was the neurosurgeon and she had to put her faith in him and what he thought was best. He’d been there when the accident had come in. He’d got all the permissions from the patient’s parents. He knew the chart best.

Emily looked up into the gallery and could see the chief of surgery watching, as well as a few of the interns and residents.

They’d come to see the show.

Ryan’s reputation preceded him.

She had to get a grip on all her self-doubt and focus on this moment, because soon there would be a set of babies on this table and it would be a team, led by her and Ryan, as they worked to separate the babies and give them a chance at life.

She approached the operating table and took the second position across from him. Dr. Sharipova was there, as well as Dr. Teal, but Dr. Teal would just be observing.

“Dr. Teal, would you read off the chart for the record?” Ryan said, totally ignoring the fact Dr. Sharipova was the resident and should be reading it out for the OR record.

Dr. Teal looked toward her and Emily nodded. “Go on, Dr. Teal.”

Amanda nodded. “Jason Klassen is a ten-year-old male patient with a break in the spine from the C7 to the T3. Patient was placed in a medicated coma and induced into therapeutic hypothermia in Portland for transfer. This surgery will reverse the hypothermia and we will attempt to repair the damage to the spine.”

“Not attempt, Dr. Teal,” Ryan said brightly. “We will.”

“Right,” Dr. Teal responded, her voice catching.

“Ready when you are, Dr. Gary,” Emily said.

Ryan nodded. “Scalpel.”

* * *

Emily might not want to admit that she was tired and hurting after hours in the operating room, but Ryan could tell that she was.

She was sitting on a bench just outside the OR and was hunched over. Her head was propped up by one arm and her eyes were closed. He could tell by the way her shoulders moved that she was taking deep breaths.

It had been a long surgery, but it had been successful. The tests on the nerves showed function in the patient’s legs. It was just a matter of time before they could bring him out of the coma and see what damage had been done to his brain, but Ryan didn’t believe that there would be any damage. Therapeutic hypothermia worked.

Right now, that wasn’t his concern. He was worried that Emily was pushing herself too hard and that she was putting herself and the baby in jeopardy.

He straddled the bench beside her. It took all his willpower not to reach out and touch her, but he thought the gesture would not be a welcome one. In fact, the moment he’d arrived he’d had the distinct feeling that his presence here was unwelcome.

And he aimed to change that. He’d give her the support she needed while he was here. He owed her that much. He was terrified about being a father and he wasn’t sure he knew how to be a good one.