Chapter 4 - Race Against Time to the Hospital

The interior of the speeding ambulance was a blur of fluorescent light, frantic medical jargon, and the steady, mechanical beep of a heart rate monitor that seemed to echo directly inside my skull.
"Blood pressure is dropping, eightieth over fifty," a paramedic called out over the radio headset. "Heart rate is elevated. We're losing time. Push the saline drip faster."
I floated somewhere between consciousness and oblivion, anchored only by the faint, rhythmic thumping of my own pulse and the terrifying realization that my baby was in grave danger. Every bump in the road felt like a physical blow to my abdomen.
"Hang in there, Maya," a paramedic said gently, pressing a warm, gloved hand against my shoulder. "We're two minutes out from St. Jude’s Memorial Hospital. The trauma team is already waiting at the bay."
When the ambulance finally lurched to a halt, the back doors swung open to reveal a wall of bright hospital lights and blue scrubs. A trauma team swarmed the gurney, wheeling me through automatic sliding doors into the chaotic, high-stakes environment of the emergency department.
The ceiling tiles rushed past in a dizzying blur.
"Thirty-two weeks pregnant, severe abdominal trauma following a fall, heavy vaginal bleeding, suspected placental abruption," the paramedic recited loudly to the attending physician as we barreled down the corridor toward labor and delivery triage.
Dr. Helen Vance, a senior obstetrician whose face I recognized from my time working at the hospital, stepped alongside the gurney with an expression of grim, absolute focus. Her dark eyes met mine for a fraction of a second.
"I've got you, Maya," she said firmly, her voice cutting through the panic of the room. "We’re taking you straight to OR-3. Prep for an emergency C-section right now!"
Dererick tried to follow us through the swinging double doors, but a nurse gently blocked his path, placing a hand on his chest.
"Sir, you have to gown up and wait in the family consultation room. We'll bring you updates as soon as we can."
"No! That's my wife! That's my child!" Dererick shouted, his voice cracking with pure desperation as he fought against the nurse's grip.
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"Dererick!" I managed to gasp through the oxygen mask, lifting a weak hand toward him.
He stopped fighting, his eyes wide and terrified as he watched them wheel me into the operating room, leaving him alone in the sterile, brightly lit hallway with his family's sins hanging heavily over his head.