CHAPTER 4 The Emergency Surgery
CHAPTER 4
The Emergency Surgery
The automatic doors sealed shut in front of me with a cold metallic hiss.
And just like that...
The two people I loved most in the world disappeared behind them.
I stood frozen for several seconds before my knees finally gave out beneath me.
The polished hospital floor felt like ice against my skin.
I stared at the bright red sign mounted above the entrance.
OPERATING ROOM – DO NOT ENTER
The words blurred through my tears.
Inside those walls, surgeons were fighting to save my wife and my unborn son.
Outside...
I could do absolutely nothing.
Every second stretched into an eternity.
Doctors and nurses rushed past me carrying surgical trays, blood units, and medical equipment.
The hospital hallway had transformed into controlled chaos.
Somewhere behind those doors, I heard muffled voices.
"Increase the blood transfusion."
"Blood pressure is dropping."
"Move! Move!"
Then...
Silence again.
The worst kind of silence.
I dragged myself toward the small waiting room outside the operating suite.
It was little more than a square room with white walls, harsh fluorescent lights, and a handful of blue plastic chairs.
An old coffee vending machine buzzed softly in the corner.
The wall clock read 4:10 a.m.
Time seemed determined to torture me.
Every minute felt like an hour.
Every footstep in the hallway made my heart leap into my throat.
But nobody came.
I pulled my phone from my pocket.
My hands were shaking so violently that I nearly dropped it.
The screen lit up.
Ten missed calls.
Eight from my older sister, Laura.
Two from my younger brother, Roberto.
Of course.
Mom had already called them.
She had undoubtedly painted herself as the victim.
I opened Laura's message.
Have you completely lost your mind? Mom just called me crying from the hospital police office. She said you had security assault her and drag her out like a criminal. You're a disgrace as a son. I hope you're proud of yourself for breaking the heart of the woman who gave you life—all because of your wife.
I read it three times.
I didn't feel angry.
I felt sick.
This was how my family had always worked.
My mother ruled like a queen.
My brother and sister never questioned her.
No matter what she did.
No matter who she hurt.
She was always right.
Everyone else was wrong.
I locked my phone and shoved it deep inside my backpack.
I couldn't deal with them.
Not now.
Not while Elena and Mateo were fighting for their lives.
I buried my face in my hands.
For the first time in years...
I prayed.
I wasn't even sure I believed in God anymore.
But I begged anyway.
Take anything from me.
My future.
My health.
My life.
Just don't take them.
Please...
Not Elena.
Not my son.
The image replayed inside my mind over and over.
The suitcase flying through the air.
The sickening impact.
Elena's scream.
The blood.
My mother's expression.
Not fear.
Not regret.
Only cold satisfaction.
How had I ignored the warning signs for so many years?
How many times had Elena quietly forgiven insults...
Humiliation...
Manipulation...
Just because I kept asking her to "be patient"?
How many times had I chosen peace over protection?
The guilt crushed my chest so hard I could barely breathe.
I had no idea how much time passed.
Maybe thirty minutes.
Maybe two hours.
The freezing hospital air had seeped into my bones.
I couldn't stop shivering.
Then...
The operating room doors finally opened.
I jumped to my feet.
A young surgeon walked slowly toward me.
It was Dr. Ramírez.
He had changed into blue surgical scrubs.
His surgical mask hung loosely beneath his chin.
His disposable plastic gown...
Was covered with fresh blood.
So were his gloves.
My heart stopped.
His face told me everything before he spoke.
He looked exhausted.
Heartbroken.
Like a man who had fought a battle no one should ever have to fight.
He stopped a few feet in front of me.
"Mr. Javier..."
His voice sounded rough.
Almost painful.
I forced my legs to move.
"D-doctor..."
My lips trembled.
"Please..."
"Tell me they're okay."
"My son..."
"Please tell me my son is alive."
Dr. Ramírez closed his eyes for a brief moment.
He took a slow breath before looking directly at me.
"We were dealing with an extremely critical situation."
His words came carefully.
"The impact caused a complete placental abruption."
"There was massive internal bleeding."
The medical terminology barely registered.
I only cared about one thing.
"My baby?"
I whispered.
"What happened to Mateo?"
The doctor's expression grew even heavier.
"We had to perform an emergency cesarean section immediately."
"He had suffered severe oxygen deprivation."
"When we delivered him..."
He paused.
"...he wasn't breathing."
My entire world tilted.
"He had no heartbeat."
The hallway disappeared around me.
I stumbled backward until my shoulders struck the wall.
"No..."
"No..."
"No..."
My voice barely existed anymore.
Dr. Ramírez stepped closer.
"The neonatal team began advanced resuscitation immediately."
"For nearly four minutes."
"They refused to give up."
Another pause.
Then...
"They got his heart beating again."
I collapsed into the nearest chair.
Air rushed violently into my lungs.
Alive.
Mateo was alive.
But the relief lasted only a second.
Because the doctor hadn't smiled.
His eyes remained filled with concern.
"He's alive," he continued quietly.
"But he's in extremely critical condition."
"He's been placed on a ventilator and transferred to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit."
"The next seventy-two hours will be crucial."
"We won't know for some time whether the oxygen deprivation caused permanent neurological damage."
"He is still fighting for his life."
I covered my face.
Tears slipped between my fingers.
My innocent little boy...
Connected to machines before he'd even opened his eyes to the world.
Because of my mother.
"What about Elena?"
The question escaped my lips before I even realized I'd spoken.
"How's my wife?"
Dr. Ramírez lowered his head.
"Your wife lost nearly two liters of blood before we were able to control the hemorrhage."
"We transfused multiple units of blood and plasma."
He hesitated.
Then he looked straight into my eyes.
"During surgery..."
"The bleeding wouldn't stop."
"We had to make an incredibly difficult decision."
My heartbeat thundered in my ears.
"To save her life..."
"We had to perform an emergency hysterectomy."
The words didn't make sense.
Not at first.
Then they did.
They had removed her uterus.
Elena was only twenty-nine years old.
We had dreamed about having a big family.
Three children.
Maybe four.
She had always smiled whenever she imagined little brothers and sisters running around our home.
That dream...
Had died on the operating table.
My mother hadn't just nearly killed my wife.
She had stolen her future.
Her ability to ever carry another child.
Forever.
Dr. Ramírez rested a hand gently on my shoulder.
"She's alive."
"She's stable."
"But she'll remain in the Intensive Care Unit under heavy sedation."
"You'll be able to see her later."
"For now..."
"I need you to stay strong."
"They're both going to need you."
I nodded.
May you like
But inside...
Something had broken forever.
