Page 35 of Midnight Mass (Priest 1.50)
“About eight weeks along,” Dr. Khader murmured. “Which lines up with your last menstrual cycle.” She pressed in a little deeper and Poppy gave out a little cry, and then Dr. Khader withdrew her hand, snapping off her gloves with practiced efficiency. “I’m so sorry that hurt.” She seemed to mean it too, her dark eyes expressive with sympathy.
She reached for the ultrasound machine, pressing a few buttons and then squirting a blue gel on Poppy’s stomach. She pressed the transducer into Poppy’s skin, moving it around until the black and white static on the screen resolved itself. And then I could see it so clearly. I leaned forward, my heart crashing wildly against my ribs.
In the middle of the screen, there was a little gummy bear baby. A baby with a large head and small body, with short arms and legs. It looked exactly like the parenting ebook I’d downloaded onto my phone last night said a baby at eight weeks would look.
Except.
Except.
Please no.
Not this.
Please not this.
I’ll do anything.
The gummy bear baby wasn’t moving. At all. And then Dr. Khader clicked a couple buttons and a heart rate monitor appeared at the bottom of the screen.
Nothing.
No heartbeats.
No.
NO.
How could you, Lord?
How could You?
Dr. Khader kept looking and kept searching, but after a couple minutes, she pulled the transducer off Poppy’s stomach. “I’m so sorry,” she said gently. “But it appears that the baby has passed away.”
Poppy’s lips closed and her chin trembled, but she said nothing.
“Your cervix is partially dilated, which means your body is responding to the baby’s death by attempting to expel the pregnancy. This is because you are at risk for infection if the pregnancy is not passed from your body.” Dr. Khader put a hand over Poppy’s. “Do you have any questions about what I’ve just said?”
Poppy took in a deep breath, moving her eyes to the ultrasound screen, which was now completely blank now that the transducer was put away. “What happens next?” she asked.
My stomach pitched at the sound of her voice—flat, businesslike. Her face more blank than the ultrasound screen. You don’t have to stay strong right now, I wanted to tell her. It’s okay to be weak. It’s okay to cry.
Jesus knew that I was about to.
But Dr. Khader took Poppy’s cold demeanor in stride. “Well, we can do one of three things. I can send you home with instructions to go see your obstetrician in a few days. You can let your body proceed naturally with the miscarriage, and be at home. Or I can give you some medicine that will speed the process along. We can either send you home for that, or depending on how quickly your body responds, you can be admitted to the hospital. Or, the final option is surgery—a procedure called a dilation and curettage. We will put you under general anesthesia, dilate your cervix and use a device called a curette to clear the uterine tissue, which usually takes less than thirty minutes. We’ll monitor you afterwards for a few hours, and then you can go home.” She squeezed Poppy’s hand. “I know that was a lot of options at once, but I can give you two time and privacy to talk them over.”
Poppy glanced over at me, her hazel eyes wide. Beneath the veneer of strength, I could see the fear and grief pooling inside of her, pressing up against the inside of her shell. Enough pressure and she would crack.
I just prayed she wouldn’t break to pieces when it happened.
I will be there to pick them up, lamb, I silently promised her. But what I said out loud was, “I want this to be the easiest it can possibly be for you. What do you need, lamb?”
She closed her eyes and kept them closed while she addressed the doctor. “What is the way it will be over the fastest?”
“The surgery,” Dr. Khader answered. “It does have some risks, however.”
Poppy opened her eyes, and they were once again blank. Empty. “I don’t care,” she said in a hollow voice. “Just make it be over. Make it stop hurting.”
“We can do that,” the doctor said. “And in the meantime, we will get you some real pain medicine. I’m going to go out and start the process and then I will be back in to discuss the specific risks with you.”
