“Don’t go baby!” She cried out, her body writhing in sync with her voice.
“Doc, help her, she’s in pain.” The gentleman turned to look at me in distraught. I remained speechless, pretending to be too engrossed in what I was detailing to the Nurses with me.
I heard the wife speak faintly. “Don’t leave me,” with pleading eyes she begged, her hands stretched out in unrest to couple his.
“Can I stay here with her?” He turned to ask me with the same kind of look his wife had just used on him.
“Alright.” I finally gave in. I gave them the answer they needed to hear.
“I’m here.” He said, and rushed to her side. He placed his lips above hers – A deep kiss that lessens pain and sorrow ensued.
“You remember how we met.” I heard him say to her, as he played with her fingers. She giggled in response; forgetting her discomfort with the Nurse measuring out points for incision across her belly.
“Yes I do.” Her joy surfaced better. “How could I ever forget your hopeless attempts at romance?” She leisurely asked him. Her energy failed to carry her attempt to spank his right cheek well enough.
“I love you Damola,”
“And I love you Tunde.” She immediately responded. Tears already built, dropped down her cheeks.
I used the corner of my eye to observe them. His head was still gently placed above hers, with his right hand now rested lightly on her belly – caressing the centre of the whole attraction.
About a month ago, a young man and his pregnant wife walked through my door saying they needed a new Doctor/Gynaecologist for their antenatal appointments, because their former Doctor was found guilty of notoriously touching the wife inappropriately.
I found it funny then, but later got to understand first hand why the husband would make such an accusation. This was a couple with extreme and deeply founded love for each other.
I never knew such love still existed. Until now.
A week ago, I found out this woman had a somewhat complicated issue – A pelvis quite tiny for natural delivery. I immediately suggested Caesarean section for the delivery of their first child. But to my greatest surprise, they refused it, saying it wasn’t an option.
A lot of people would be happy and extremely grateful to their Doctor for having identified such a thing before the day of delivery; but this couple weren’t.
They were in-fact, displeased.
I found out it was against their faith and personal believe to be delivered by any means other than the natural birthing method.
I had spent a large part of the last one week trying to convince them on how easy, viable, and safe the medical process was, but your guess is as good as mine; when it comes to religion and faith, a lot of people are extremely stubborn.
Her delivery which was forecasted and scheduled for the 28th of July, unsurprisingly came earlier; today, the 15th of July (about two weeks early); things hadn’t really been put in place for an emergency C-section.
Then things got more complicated.
Her contractions were coming at an alarming speed, and there was nothing I could do to help her discomfort until I convinced her that she really had the rare condition known medically as cephalopelvic disproportion (CPD for short) – A condition where the baby’s head wouldn’t be able to pass through her tiny pelvis.
It took me about two hours to make Tunde – the husband – see reason why a C-section was the only option;
He spent about an hour (amidst her increasing pain and discomfort) to make her see reasons why saving her life and the baby’s together, should come first for their family.
They agreed to prioritize her life over the baby’s if the need came for it, even without being asked; they felt it was necessary to prepare for the worst, in the understanding that they could try again since they had each other.
“Doctor, we’re good to go.” One of the Nurses called my attention. I gave the signal, and they commissioned the process by injecting her with a mild analgesic.
Her eyes shone in anxiety and moved to the patterns as directed by her husband who stood by her head side, till they relaxed and let the numb of the lower part of her body take precedence.
The cry of the baby was soon heard; father and mother were elated; until Damola suddenly started drifting into abnormal slumber, amidst her newborn daughter’s wails.
“What’s happening?” I heard Tunde shout. My Nurse wouldn’t let him remain anymore. They tried to move him out but he wouldn’t budge, he wanted an answer.
I couldn’t fault him – The love of his life suddenly stopped showing signs of life, with the placenta still in her. If it were you; what would you do?
I placed the oxygen masks over her face, and kept pumping her body with the life sustainer; yet, no change.
A corner of my eye met his fiery gaze.
I knew what I had to do, but I couldn’t bring myself to tear someone’s hope apart.
But I had to. It was one of the painful parts of my job.
“Time of death, 6:59pm.” I finally announced.