Finn was amazing throughout the ordeal. He walked with her around the deck, rubbed her back when the pressure on her spine became too much to handle. After nearly six hours of walking, sitting, laying and every other anatomical position possible, her contractions were two minutes apart and it was time to push.
Finn held her hand and gave her words of encouragement. “I love you. You’ve got this, sweetheart.”
Noelle screamed. She was sitting up in a recliner, pillows behind her head and her legs open on the footrest. Everyone had scrubbed clean using the soap retrieved on our adventure and dressed in yellow waterproof hospital gowns with those funny paper hats. We donned surgical gloves and our small cache of surgical instruments was laid out on the table beside us.
“Push, Noelle.”
She cried out in pain, sweat glistened on her forehead. “It hurts.”
“You’re doing great, Noelle. Give me a big push,” I instructed.
“I can’t do it; it hurts too much.”
“You’ve got this. Take a deep breath. Ready? Three. Two. One. Push!”
She clenched her teeth together and gave a strained push.
“Good. The baby’s crowning. I see the head.”
Finn moved down and looked, wide-eyed, between her legs. “Holy shit. I see it. Push, baby, you’re almost there.”
I counted down again and yelled, “Push!” She gave one final pained scream and pushed. Finns eyes held his amazement as I pulled the baby’s tiny form from Noelle. I raised the baby in my arms and she let out a shrill cry. “It’s a girl,” I exclaimed, and the group cheered in unison.
Nancy clamped the cord like I had shown her; she placed two clamps on the umbilical cord to stop the blood flow. After a failed attempt to pry Finn’s attention from his new miracle, she cut the cord herself. Finn kissed his wife on the forehead. “We did it.” He couldn’t take his eyes from his new beautiful baby girl. We were wiping her off, cleaning off the fluids of childbirth, when the monitor started to beep.
Noelle’s head had fallen back onto the pillows and was slowly drooping to the side. The alarms sounded at her falling heart rate.
“Noelle? Noelle, can you hear me?” I asked.
She didn’t stir.
I made my way to the head of the chair and pushed it back so she lay flat.
Finn was shouting his wife’s name, shaking her by the shoulders. “What’s happening? Why isn’t she answering? Noelle, wake up, please, baby, wake up.”
“Get Finn and the baby out of here,” I said.
Nancy scooped the baby from my arms and hurried out of the room. Lowell grabbed a fighting Finn and dragged him from the room in the other direction, assuring him everything would be okay.
“Stop! What’s happening to my wife? Noelle, I love you. Noelle! Somebody, please, just tell me what’s happening to my wife.” I heard him yelling from behind the bedroom door.
“Meg, I need a BP.”
Noelle was unresponsive. Her heart rate had fallen to twenty-seven and was steadily decreasing. I squeezed the bag of saline into her IV and watched the monitor. It still fell. The monitor gave a solid beep, telling me she was in a systole and no longer had a pulse. Meg reported the same results from the blood pressure.
She had drifted off peacefully after giving her final push. I wasn’t trained for this. I didn’t know how to save her. I saw the pool of blood growing between her legs. Blood loss had caused her pressure to fall below critical levels, and we didn’t have the capacity to transfuse her. I performed CPR until my strength gave out and I lost my balance; each compression added more blood to the puddle. We had lost her.
Pulling the surgical cap from my head, I looked up at Adam and shook my head. Meg gasped and ran crying from the room. I sat on the floor until Adam pulled me upright and held onto me for support. Seth covered Noelle with a sheet and the three of us stood vigil.
I looked at the bedroom door that held Finn. My vision tunneled and the hallway looked like it stretched on for miles. I began the long walk to give him the news of his wife’s demise.
I found Finn pacing at the back of the room when I opened the door. Lowell had been guarding the exit like a night club bouncer. The two showed signs that they had been struggling. Lowell looked like he’d been used as a punching bag, and Finn’s knuckles were bloodied.
Entering the room, I approached Finn cautiously. “Finn.”
“If I don’t get to go in there right now, I swear to God I’m going to hurt someone. You can’t keep me from my wife. I need to see her.”
“Finn, calm down.”
“Fuck you and your calm down. That animal dragged me out of there. I haven’t gotten to see my baby, and I want to be with my wife.” He was breathing heavy, spitting out words in anger.
“Finn, your baby is fine. She’s healthy, and she’s beautiful. You can see her soon. Nancy is getting her cleaned up for you. I just need you to calm down.”
He shouted back at me “I. Am. Calm.” Taking a deep breath, he said more sedately. “I’m calm, Emma. I just need to be with my wife.” He moved to step around me, and I blocked his path.
“I’m sorry, Finn. Noelle lost a lot of blood, causing her vitals to bottom out. I did everything I could to get her back.”
“Okay… but she’s okay now, right?”
I shook my head. “We lost her, Finn. The ordeal was too hard on her body.” I explained everything we had done to try and save her. Finn’s face went slack and he covered his face. He slid down the wall and cried for the loss of his soul mate. His fists pounded against his head as he wailed.
I reached out to put my hand on his shoulder, and he shoved me away. “Get the fuck away from me,” he spat. “Leave me alone, all of you, get the fuck out.” We gave him his space, closing the door behind us as we left the room.
When we returned to the makeshift birthing room, the baby lay sleeping in Nancy’s arms. This angelic bundle of joy we had all been waiting for. Today should have been one of celebration. The group needed it. We went through the motions of cleaning around Noelle’s limp body. No one talking, each of us stuck in our own heads.
Her body remained in the chair, waiting for Finn to say his goodbyes. He didn’t come out of the room. All had been quiet behind the door, and I began to worry for him until it slowly opened and Finn’s silhouette came into view. He approached the group apprehensively, eyes red and puffy from tears. As he removed the sheet from Noelle’s face, he picked up her hand, brought it to his lips and brushed soft kisses across her knuckles. Then he knelt there, holding her hand and stroking her hair. He wept against her neck as he whispered words into her ear, too hushed for us to hear. His touch was gentle and loving. There wasn’t a dry eye among us; even the soldiers, trained to shove down their emotion, cried outright for Finn’s loss.
We wrapped Noelle in the sheet and carried her body up to the deck. It was still dark, the morning sun not yet peeking through the gloom. Finn held his baby girl as he stood silent over his wife’s corpse and mourned. No amount of consoling would ease this man’s pain. He was a broken shell of what he once was. The light in his eyes had gone out. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one concerned about his ability to care for his child in his current state.
Walking to him, I put one hand on his shoulder and rubbed the side of the newborns face with the other. He jerked away as if my touch burned him. “Get away from us,” he barked at me. His face was a muddled distortion of anger and pain, and it was all directed at me. I realized then that he blamed me for his wife’s death. Not that I could blame him; I felt responsible. Logically I knew the guilt was wrong, I had done all I could. Semantics weren’t enough to rid me of the suffocating culpability I harbored. “Leave me alone, all of you.”