The Power of Love (2 page)

“But I wasn’t really bending over. It’s
kind of hard these days.” She rubbed her belly.

“Nonetheless, when the heart doesn’t
function properly, the oxygen supply to the body is diminished.
When that happens, a person can faint. We believe this is what
happened today.” The doctor flipped through the test results again.
“Is this the only time you’ve fainted? Have you felt weak or more
tired than usual?”

Elaine glanced at Ethan again. He knew
by the look on her face she had been struggling. How could he have
missed her distress?

Elaine shook her head. “No. I’m tired
all the time and not sleeping well these days since it’s so hard to
get comfortable. And with work and everything that’s been going on
at home, well . . . But I did go see my doctor. He said I was
probably just down on my vitamins and to get some rest. I’ve been
trying . . .”

Ethan sat up straighter, glancing at
the doctor. “So, what does this mean? Elaine just needs more rest,
right? Get those vitamins into her?” He turned to Elaine. “I’ll
call Mary and tell her you’ve worked your last day, love. You
should have quit weeks ago.”

“I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated
than that,” the doctor continued. “Mrs. O’Donovan, I fear your
heart has irreparable damage.”

“What are you talking about? She only
fainted. You said so yourself. The baby pushed on her heart and she
fainted.” Ethan felt the air in the room become suffocating. He
felt like he was gasping for breaths and feeling the hollow cells
in his lungs filling with stale nothingness. And overwhelming
pressure pushed down on his body and he struggled to stay
upright.

Elaine squeezed his hand again. He met
her gaze and took all of her in—her pale face, tired eyes,
quivering lips . . . lips he had kissed so passionately just this
morning when he dropped her off at work. The sounds of the blinking
and beeping monitors surrounding her were like gongs going off
around him.

“
I’m sorry, Mrs. O’Donovan,
but there’s no easy way to say this. Your heart is too weak to
survive the birth of your child.”

Just then, Ethan’s own heart stopped
beating. The room swayed beneath him.

He spun his gaze to Elaine when felt
her fingers slip from his hand. If it were at all possible, her
face had paled even more. Her mouth opened and closed, but nothing
came out.

Ethan looked up at the doctor again,
rapidly blinking through the fog that threatened to engulf him.
“Your tests must be wrong. You’re wrong.” Turning back to Elaine,
he said, “We’ll get another doctor, love. We’ll have the tests
redone.” Then back to the doctor, not bothering to hide the anxiety
in his voice, he said, “Get out. Just get out. You’re wrong.
Just—”

“Mr. O’Donovan—”

“Get out!”

Doctor Gibbons stepped away from the
bed. As he turned away, Elaine spoke. Her voice was desperate but
barely audible. “No, wait. You said there were options.”

“Lany, he’s wrong. We’ll have the tests
redone. You’re just tired. We’ll get them redone. Everything will
be fine. You’ll see.” Try as he might, he could not keep the quiver
from his voice or his eyes from welling. He had to stay strong for
Lany though, so he took a deep breath and willed his emotions
away.

Elaine struggled to sit up. Ethan took
her by the elbow and put an arm around her shoulders and held her
until she was comfortable. The doctor had stopped at the door,
waiting.

She gazed up at her beautiful husband,
unable to believe her life had taken such a horrible turn. It was
amazing she could have awoken this morning and thinking their lives
could not get any better. Six months ago she’d secretly doubted
Ethan when he said they had a perfect life. This morning as she
laid in his arms, she held no doubts that they did.

She loved Ethan with every fiber of her
being—she could not believe how much she loved this man. She woke
every morning and watched him sleep, unbelieving how he could have
chosen her for his wife and life partner.

She had never considered herself
beautiful, or smart, or talented—she could not hold a tune to save
her soul. She could barely manage a decent meal. But Ethan made her
feel every bit as beautiful as a cover model and as smart as any
college graduate. He did laugh at her every time she tried singing,
and really, she could not blame him. She was a horrible singer.
True form for Ethan, he always encouraged her to try anyway. Even
if it meant eating a dodgy sausage butty.

Elaine loved Ethan so much it hurt.
Every time she looked at him, as she was now, she thought her
insides would explode with how much she felt for him, and the
difficulty she had expressing those feelings. Over the last few
months, she had come to realize that their baby was a symbol of
their love. Everything good about Ethan, and herself, would be in
their child. So there was no way she was going to lose
it.

With reluctance, she turned her gaze
back to the doctor, blinking away her tears. “Tell me about the
options.”

Doctor Gibbons stepped back to the bed
and motioned for Ethan to reseat himself. “This is a very serious
situation. Even the options aren’t a guarantee.”

“You just told me I’m not going to
survive the birth of our baby. I think any option, even if it’s not
one hundred percent, is better than no option at all, don’t
you?”

Doctor Gibbons held up his palm.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath, laid out the test
results on the bedside table then began. When he finished, Elaine
wondered just what options he was referring to. In fact, the
options he had outlined seemed nonexistent.

“Those are my options?” she asked,
incredulous. “Have a caesarean now and hope my child lives. Or
carry to term and possibly end up having a caesarean anyway if I
can’t deliver, and possibly injuring my child if its oxygen is cut
off for too long before you can perform the section? Neither of
which I’ll survive? You can’t even guarantee I’ll live long enough
to receive a heart transplant if I have an ob—”

“Lane,” said Ethan softly, cutting her
off.

“Where are my options?” she nearly
shouted.

“Well . . . if you waited, the two of
you will have more time together,” Doctor Gibbons told her,
flicking his glance in Ethan’s direction. “And we are talking about
the health of your child. There’s nothing we can do to change your
outcome—”

“Her outcome?” Ethan gasped, cutting
the doctor off midsentence.

“Please, Mr. O’Donovan, I mean no
disrespect. This is a delicate situation. We must think of the
health of your child.”

“And you’re telling me I’ll be
bedridden until I die?”

“Lane—” Ethan pleaded.

“What am I supposed to say, Ethan? I
woke up this morning excited to be seeing our child soon, being
able to hold him or her in my arms, to make you a father. And in
the space of a few hours, our future has been destroyed. This
morning I was living, really living, and tonight I’m dying . . .
really . . . dying,” she spluttered through sudden tears. She had
been stunned by the news then confused and now angry.

She faced the doctor again. “Tell, me.
Will I ever see the outside of this hospital? Can I go
home?”

Doctor Gibbons stared at her for a
moment. “If you leave the hospital and have another episode,
there’s no guarantee the baby won’t suffer adverse
reactions.”

“So, the only option you’re
giving us is
when
Elaine is going to . . . is going to die,” stuttered Ethan,
choking back his obvious emotions.

Elaine’s chest squeezed hearing his
words. She felt the anguish in his voice. It was one thing to hear
the doctor telling her she was going to die, but something else
entirely to hear the man she loved say the words. She felt slapped
in the face. Not by Ethan. Never by Ethan. Only by the
words.

Unsurprisingly, Doctor Gibbons did not
respond. What could he say? They all knew exactly what was going to
happen. She had to face the truth. She was going to die. There was
nothing she or anyone else could do about it.

Of all her non-options, there was only
one thing she could do.

“Get out,” she said to the doctor,
turning her gaze to Ethan. She hated her cruel words. He was just
the messenger, after all. But right now she did not
care.

From the corner of her eye, she saw
Doctor Gibbons gather the papers from the bedside table and step
away from the bed. If he was waiting for her to call him back
again, it would be a mighty long wait.

Once alone, Elaine lifted her palm to
Ethan’s cheek. “It’ll be all right, Eth.”

“How can you say that, Lany?” His voice
was filled with so much emotion, her heart broke for him. She knew
he was trying to stay strong for her, but he still could not keep
his chin from quivering.

She wove her fingers around his neck
and pulled him to her. It did not take much effort. He fell into
her embrace and buried his face in the crook of her neck. Careful
not to pull out the IV tube from her hand, she wrapped her arms
around him and held him. He was not crying, but she knew he would
the instant he left her. When they were together, he always put on
a brave face for her sake.

While she held him, her mind spun with
a myriad of thoughts—How would he survive raising their child on
his own—Would he fall in love again?—Would another woman be the one
her child called ‘mum’?

The last nearly choked her.

Swallowing hard, she could not worry
about that now. She only had a couple weeks left before their baby
was due . . . before she would die. There was a lot to do—a lot of
things to say. No time to waste.

Christmas Eve

She had been in labor for several hours
now, but still her water had not broken. If Elaine had not felt
weak in the last few days, she certainly did now. Her body felt
wrung out and much heavier than normal. It felt as if her child had
grown even more since the doctor had given her the horrible news a
few weeks ago and was now pushing even more against her vital
organs, making it difficult to sit up, to move around . . . even to
breathe.

And he, or she, was kicking something
fierce. If it was a boy, she was sure it would grow up to become a
world class rugby player, she thought with an ironic grin. Neither
she nor Ethan were into sports, despite, or maybe in spite of,
Limerick being home to some of Ireland’s greatest rugby
players.

The closer her due date came, the more
she understood everything Doctor Gibbons had told her about her
condition. Every day that passed, her body grew more fragile. Her
bones felt brittle, her energy was non-existent and her skin had
paled until it was translucent. She could no longer deny what was
happening. The only thing that seemed alive and vibrant was her
baby who tried its hardest to make an entrance into the
world.

Elaine shook herself from those
thoughts and remembered back to last Christmas Eve.

Today was their first anniversary. And
their last. The horrible irony was not lost on her. If she had had
the energy, she would have laughed. She did smile though. Their
wedding day had been the happiest day of her life. Finding out she
was pregnant had come in at a close second.

Even with everything they were going
through, Ethan had not forgotten. They both knew her days were
dwindling to hours so he had not wandered far. He had stepped out
while she had been taken for tests. When she had returned, she had
been amazed at what he had done. He had decorated her hospital room
just as he had their bedroom on their wedding night.

They had been living together for a few
months and Elaine had feared their wedding would not change
anything. They would leave home in the morning and come home in the
evening just as they did every other day. The only change would be
the paper filed with the registrar and a new ring on her finger.
They swore their love to each other daily, so what else could have
changed to make the day more special?

Ethan.

He changed everything. He always
changed everything. He made her life . . . beautiful. And he did it
every day, regardless of how he felt.

The night before their wedding, when
she had stayed with her family—because it was bad luck to see the
bride the night before the wedding—he had taken the time to
decorate their bedroom for their wedding night, and to make up for
the honeymoon they could not afford to take.

He had strung tiny white lights across
the ceiling, lit vanilla and coconut scented candles around the
room, sprinkled flower petals on the bed and had exotic music
playing softly. Champagne and strawberries with chocolate dipping
sauce waited on the bedside table.

Because it was Christmas Eve, he had
also set up a tree in the corner of the room. It was fully
decorated with colorful blinking lights and sparkling ornaments.
When she stepped into the room after taking her shower, he was
laying beneath the tree, propped on an elbow—nude except for a big
red velvet bow around his hips. A tail end of the bow just barely
covered his . . .