Chapter 7 - Code Blue
The harsh fluorescent lights of the surgical theater blinded me. I was wearing blue scrubs, sitting on a stool right next to Elena’s head. A sterile blue drape separated us from the surgical team operating on her abdomen.
Elena was awake, given a spinal block so she could hear the baby, but her breathing was shallow, aided by an oxygen mask.
“I’m right here,” I murmured, stroking her forehead. “You’re doing great.”
“Scalpel,” Dr. Aris ordered on the other side of the drape.
Minutes felt like hours. The tension in the room was so thick you could carve it with a knife. Suddenly, there was a flurry of movement, the sound of suction, and then… a cry.
It wasn't the loud, robust wail of a full-term baby. It was a tiny, reedy, kitten-like mewl.
“It’s a girl,” Dr. Aris announced. “She’s small, but she’s fighting. NICU team, take her!”
The neonatologists swarmed the tiny, two-pound infant, immediately intubating her and rushing her past us in a plastic incubator. I caught a one-second glimpse of a tiny hand, red and translucent, before she was whisked out the doors.
“She’s beautiful,” I whispered to Elena, kissing her temple. “She’s perfect.”
Elena smiled, a single tear leaking from her eye. “Lily. We’ll name her Lily.”
“Lily,” I agreed, my heart soaring.
Then, the monitors around us erupted in a frantic, high-pitched alarm.
“Her pressure is bottoming out!” the anesthesiologist yelled. “She’s hemorrhaging! The preeclampsia is causing DIC (Disseminated Intravascular Coagulation)—her blood won’t clot!”
Elena’s eyes rolled back. Her hand went limp in mine.
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“Code Blue!” someone screamed. “Get the husband out of here! Push epinephrine! We need mass transfusion protocol, now!”
I was grabbed by two nurses and literally dragged backward out of the OR. I fought them, screaming Elena’s name, watching as they started chest compressions on the woman I loved. The heavy steel doors slammed shut in my face, cutting off my screams, leaving me in the sterile hallway alone.
