She burst through the office door, late as usual for her appointment.
“Late,” she said, “late is good!” She smiled.
More than anything else in the world she wanted a baby.
Jack had asked her repeatedly, “Am I not more to you than dozens of children?”
“You don’t understand,” she replied. “It is not a question of you or children or even numbers of children. I want you, but I also want a child, and nothing will substitute.”
The truth was, like most men, he very much did not understand. He was not more to her than dozens of children. This was not a commentary on her love for him, but rather a statement of her great love and her great need for a child of her own.
They had become pregnant after their second attempt with in vitro fertilization (IVF), and now with each passing week her dream grew closer. The nursery walls were striped in light blue and white banners, themed with blue elephants.
“I hope he likes elephants,” Natalie said, smiling to herself. Today she had only herself to talk to as she waited in the cramped exam room. She examined every fiber of the wallpaper and every crack in the floor tiles. Time crept by after rushing by so fast as she hurried to get here.
Finally, the doctor entered, but the door moved at an agonizing pace, reminding Natalie of watching a slow motion replay on Sunday. The entrance struck Natalie as different than the other times she entered, but she could not say why. Natalie was already nervous, being here without Jack, and maybe this was all there was to it.
“How are you feeling?” Dr. Jobe asked.
“Fine,” Natalie said. She loved Dr. Suzanne Jobe. Dr. Jobe was understanding, but she also knew when to get tough and probe deper.
“Where is Jack?” the doctor asked, a bit pointedly.
In that moment, Natalie felt a chill in her spine and her neck stiffened. Her eyes narrowed and she felt herself growing defensive.
“A work thing. He’s afraid to come to these appointments.” Natalie managed a chuckle. “He says if he comes, there will be bad news.” She raised her eyebrows and made her eyes roll in circles. She looked at Dr. Jobe for a reaction.
Dr. Jobe stared, with an almost absent gaze at the folder she clutched in her right hand. Her left was buried deep in her lab coat pocket, and Natalie could hear the stethoscope grinding on itself.
“Is there bad news? Natalie’s voice almost croaked. “Is the baby ok?”
“The baby is fine and your pregnancy is fine,” Dr. Jobe began. She inhaled.
“Great! Oh, what a relief!” Natalie almost jumped from the exam table. “I hate it Jack is not here! You had me worried for a second. Every little thing seems to bother me now!” She rolled back and grabbed the edge of the table with her fingertips.
“Natalie,” Dr. Jobe interrupted the revelry. Her face was stern, and Natalie saw the skin at the hairline of Dr. Jobe’s ponytail turning red. “The baby is fine.” She paused.
Natalie pursed her lips into a tight line across her face. She swallowed hard and felt her tears collecting.
“Dr. Jobe, what, what is it?”
“The baby is fine…but you are not.”
“What does that mean?” Natalie said. Her look of relief had given way to a furrowed brow and questioning eyes.
“Natalie, I am not sure how we missed this, but you have an invasive tumor, which is growing fast and it must come out now. You may only have a few hours to live.”
“What?!” Her face scrunched into a giant question, “Are you sure?” Natalie’s face flushed and she stood up off the exam table. Her hand raised looking for something – or someone – to grasp for support.
“Yes. Positive. We must move now. Please call Jack and I will have the nurses prep you. You will be fine, but we must act now.”
Dr. Jobe’s initial insecurity was replaced with a calm confidence.
Natalie did just as she was told, but her movements were mechanical and scripted. After a quick and emotion-filled conversation with Jack, she slid from her clothes, aided by a nurse. She moved like a zombie, stiff and distant. The world progressed much too fast and information felt as though it was stuck somewhere in her brain. The words and the sensory inputs entered, but understanding them and translating them into meaning felt like a grocery store exchange with a new clerk.
Natalie was going to be a mom, and she knew for sure that she wanted to be there for her baby. She did not want to die.
“Wait,” she stopped, looked up at the wall, and the next thought hit her like fresh light in a dark room. A question which had been poking around, but had never fully formed, now rushed to the front of her mind.
“What about the baby?” she asked of particularly no one. Terror seized her. Her eyes popped and her grew hot as blood rushed through her body. Adrenaline coursed through and her breathing was rapid and fitful.
Dr. Jobe returned. Natalie whirled toward the door, half-dressed in her too-cute maternity top and jeans and at the same time, partially covered with the surgical gown.
“What about the baby?” Natalie asked again. The words came out in a rush of breath and emotion, so pounding was the question in her mind.
“Natalie, I cannot save you and the baby,” the doctor said. “I’m sorry, I thought you understood that.”
“No,” she said, “I did not. You must save the baby!” Her voice pleaded with Dr. Jobe to listen to her deepest wishes.
“I can’t,” she said, “it is too early and risky, but I can save you. Please hurry!”
“No,“ she said. Natalie rushed toward the door, reaching out for Dr. Jobe’s arm. “I have waited all my life for this baby. I will give him a chance.”
As if on cue, Jack burst in the room. He brushed past Dr. Jobe to Natalie, kissing her cheeks through the tears, both hers and his.
“Jack,” Dr. Jobe said, “you two have a decision to make. Please make it quick, as we do not have much time.”
“Save the baby, Jack,” Natalie said. “Please save the baby.”
“I will,” Jack nodded. “I will. You get ready. I’m here.”
They gave Natalie her sedative and she fell under its grip in seconds, only making it backwards to 97.
Dr. Jobe walked in and discussed the decision with Jack. He told Dr. Jobe what to do, and she said she understood.
After she left the room, Jack considered what life would be like after the surgery. He knew things would never be ok with Natalie, but at least she would be alive.