Miracles

Miracles

They came in at 21h30 on a crazy Friday evening. MVA. Motor vehicle accident. A drunk driver had run a red light and smashed into them. Their car had been totaled. It was a miracle they were still alive. The husband was cleared within minutes. The cut on his forehead was quickly cleaned and stitched. Another miracle.
The wife was another matter altogether. She wasn’t gifted with a miracle. She was eight months pregnant, and was having contractions.
“I lost my first three babies,” she cried to the nurse. “I don’t want to lose this one too.”
The husband, a dark, forbearing looking man, was ushered into the family room, where he sat down, picked up a magazine, and started calmly leafing through it.
“Look at him,” the doctor muttered, disgusted. “His wife could be losing their child, and he is sitting there, calm as can be, as if he has no worries.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want the baby,” the nurse whispered before smiling reassuringly at the young mother.

She struggled for hours, under the constant care and supervision of the ER staff. The hospital was overcrowded; there was no way of getting the mother into a room. The forbearing young father was forgotten. After all, it was too busy in the ER, and it wasn’t as if he cared enough to waste time on. He was happy with his stack of magazines in the family room.
“How is she doing?” the nurse asked her colleague.
“The contractions are coming pretty regularly now, but she hasn’t broken her water.”
“She still has a chance.”
“Yes. If only she had her husband to support her.”
“Isn’t it terrible?”
“I know.”

The young mother, eyes closed, concentrated on the comforting words of the nurse.
“She is very quiet,” remarked one of the doctors.
“Wouldn’t you be, if the father of your child didn’t care if you made it or not?”
The doctor shook her head.

After three hours, a nurse walked by the family room to let the father know how his wife and child were doing.
“He isn’t there,” he announced grimly.
“What?” cried the doctor.
“The security guard said he went down the hill to buy himself something edible to eat.”
The doctor shook his head. “I don’t believe this guy.”
“Unfortunately, there are people like that in the world,” the nurse said. “At least he stayed.”

Fours hours into the admission to the ER. Still no sign of the father.
“Did he abandon her, or what?” the nurse wondered.
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” the doctor frowned, scribbling furiously.
He was again forgotten in the midst of two heart arrests, a grand mal seizure, a massive anaphylactic shock and a pregnant woman who had been abandoned by her husband while she could be losing their child. But the staff had a job to do, missing father or not.

Six hours since the accident. The father stepped up to one of the nurses.
“Excuse me.”
“Hold on a second, I’ll be right with you.”
But the father wasn’t a priority at the moment. He had left to eat. He could wait for the nurse to attend to her dying patient. The father left after a few moments.
“He didn’t even care enough to wait for the nurse to come back,” the doctor muttered, disgusted.

“How is my husband doing?”
A hesitation.
“What? What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing, my dear. He’s fine. He just has a bad cut on his forehead.”
“Why isn’t he here with me?”
Because he doesn’t care. “You need close monitoring because of the baby. He doesn’t. We sent him to the less acute section of the ER.”
“Oh, OK. Is it possible to see him?”
As if he’d give a fig. “I’ll see if the doctor is done with him.”
A beautiful smile. “Thank you very much.”

Seven hours after the family’s ordeal started. The father stepped once again up to the nurse.
“Excuse me...”
“Yes?”
“I really need to see my wife.”
“And why now?” the doctor snapped at him. “She’s been in there for seven hours now.”
“I wasn’t told I could see her.”
The doctor was startled. “We looked for you. You weren’t there.”
“I can’t stand hospitals. I had to go throw up a couple of times, so I went for a quick walk down the hill. I wanted to get my wife some fruits.”
Looking down, the doctor noticed the bag in the father’s hands.
“Could I see her? Please?”
“Um, yes. Sure. This way.”

He carefully stepped up to his wife’s beside and tenderly looked down at her. His whole face looked different; he looked like a loving husband, and a great father. As if sensing him, she opened her eyes and smiled up at him. “Are you OK?” They both asked each other at the same time.
She smiled; he started crying, big, silent tears that burned their way into the hearts of the staff who had cruelly and unjustly judged him. She reached up for him and hugged him tightly.
“I was so worried when they didn’t come and get me. I tried not worrying, I tried reading, I don’t even remember what I was reading...”
“I’m fine.”
“The... The baby?”
“The contractions have stopped.”
“She will be fine?”
“Yes, she will.”
He smiled down at her. “Thank God for that. We are lucky to be treated in this great hospital.”
The staff all turned their heads away in shame.