"Oh yeah," the doctor replied as he concentrated on whatever he was doing behind the curtain barrier. "It seems that your placenta was starting to calcify some," he added.
"Could that be due to the preeclampsia?" I was shocked that Lindsay was able to ask such good questions where as I was focusing on not falling off my chair.
The doctor stopped whatever he was doing, looked at Lindsay with an inquisitive glance, and said, "It may be, but I'd like to look at it under a microscope." He returned to his work. "We're going to put staples in so if there is any leakage, it will be able to come out easily."
"How long will the staples have to stay in the incision?" Lindsay inquired.
"Four days," the doctor stated simply.
"Four days?! I work at a Vet hospital," Lindsay began, "and the staples we put in our animals stay in for at least seven to ten days!"
"No," the doctor responded. "Four days."
"You can come see him." I turned around to the source of the voice which came from a nurse standing in the ajar door where Dorian had been taken. They didn't have to tell me twice. I gave Lindsay's hand a quick squeeze, stood up, and walked into the next room. It was an oddly narrow room compared to the one from which I entered. A few feet in front of me stood five to six attendees dressed in the same yellow gown I was wearing. Their backs were to me, they were circled around a small table, and their heads were all angled down looking at whatever was on top of the table.
I felt like I floated toward the table as if I were underwater. The attendees--all women (Dorian's already a ladies' man, I thought to myself)--opened their tight circle to allow me to stand next to my son. A lovely, dark haired Indian woman pulled a mask off Dorian's face. "He's doing fine," she said in her rich accent. "He's breathing on his own," she assured me. "I'm just providing him with a little pressure to ensure that his lungs stay inflated."
He was so small--skinny to be more correct. He was a long, skinny, beautiful baby. He was perfect. I was immediately in love. I couldn't begin to fathom or understand the bond that was started at that moment--let alone put it into words. The emotion, however, was pure joy. All of my fears, doubts, and anxiety of the previous days were washed away instantly.
"What's his name?" one of the ladies standing around us asked. This inquiry was quickly echoed by the others. They were all eager to know the name of this perfect baby boy in their presence.
"Dorian," I said with a hint of reverence. "His name is Dorian," I said even prouder. The doctors and nurses around us repeated his name with "Ooo's" and "Aww's".
"You can take a picture," I heard someone say. I pressed my hands against my gown and, to my great shock and pleasure, found a disposable camera I had apparently slipped into a pocket. I had purchased the camera the day before when I was out running errands. During the flurry of packing our bag, I had forgotten to bring our digital camera. So I purchased this backup at a drugstore down the street "just in case".
"Thank you all so much," I said to everyone standing there with Dorian and me.
"You're quite welcome," the doctor said to me. "You go back with his mother," she instructed me. "We will work with him for a few hours, get him settled in the NICU (Newborn Intensive Care Unit), and we will have someone send for you both when he is ready."
I thanked them all again, smiled down at my son, and traced my steps back to Lindsay to tell her about our baby.
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