She takes a deep breath and nods, before squeezing my hand tighter and moaning in pain once again.
I’m praying everything happens just like I said because suddenly those are the only things I want.
Chapter Twenty-Six
ROSALIND
Fuck being pregnant. Fuck being in labor. Fuck these nurses and the doctors and the fucking epidural that didn’t seem to take.
I told them, TOLD THEM, the medicine wasn’t working, but did they believe me? No. No, they did not. And now, I’ve been lying here for damn near two hours having full-on labor pains because the damn nurse won’t call the anesthesiologist in to fix it.
Thankfully, that stupid blonde bimbo is gone, and I have a new nurse. We’ll see if this one is playing with a full deck and takes care of me and spends less time on her computer.
“How are you feeling?” This nurse is a brunette, so I’m hopeful. Does her hair color make much of a difference? Probably not, but right now blondes are dead to me. “Give me a pain level between one and ten.”
“A fucking eleven,” I snap at her. “My epidural never took.”
“It wore off already?”
“No. It never took,” I say slowly so she understands my desperation. “I haven’t had any relief at all.”
“Oh no. That’s not good. Did you tell your other nurse?”
I want to snap at her and say, “No. I thought I’d wait for you to start your shift.” But I’m trying to be nice, so I stick with, “Sure did. She rolled me over on my side and told me gravity would help.” The nurse gets a weird look on her face. I narrow my eyes because I know, know I was played by someone who was just too lazy to care. “She was lying because she’s afraid of the anesthesiologist, isn’t she? I know he was a dick, but I can take him if I have to.”
Nurse Brunette pauses momentarily, then pats my arm. “Let’s see how far along you are and then we can call him back if it’s not too late.” She leans in a little closer and adds, “I’m not afraid of him either.”
Knowing we’re finally getting somewhere with this mess relaxes me just enough to not want to throat punch anyone. Until Joey opens his stupid mouth.
“Too late? Why would it be too late? What does that mean?”
“We only have a certain window for epidurals, so getting another go at it is going to depend on how far along her dilation is.” The nurse, whose name is apparently Heather if the information on the marker board is correct, grabs some gloves and moves the sheet to just above my knees. “Are you okay with him being in here for this?”
“He’s the one who did it. He deserves to see all the grossness,” I grumble. “Maybe it’ll keep him away from me for a while.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Joey shaking his head but wisely keeps his mouth shut. This has already been the longest five hours of my life, and I have a bad feeling this is just the beginning.
“Okay then. You’re going to feel some pressure.” And then Heather shoves her entire hand inside me. Hell, she may be elbow deep with how much “pressure” that is.
“Holy shit,” I yell. “Please tell me you can call him to fix this.”
She moves the sheet back down and I roll to my side, trying to breathe through yet another contraction.
“You’re about eight and a half centimeters, so I’m sorry but it’s too late now.”
My head pops up off the bed. “What do you mean it’s too late? It’s already in. There is already a needle in my back.”
“But it needs to be redone completely. By the time he finishes with the patients before you, the baby will probably already be here.”
Rage fills me. “You document on my chart that I told that shitty nurse to call him. I told her. She denied my rights to have a proper epidural. I’m not paying for pain relief when I didn’t get any!”
Joey begins stroking my hair as my breathing hitches. “Hey, hey, hey. Calm down. It’s okay.”
Overwhelmed and in pain, I begin to cry. “It’s not okay. I can’t do this, Joey. It hurts so much, and I didn’t want to have a baby, and I’m going to be a terrible mother, and I can’t do this. I didn’t know it would hurt so bad.”
“Babe, listen. It’s going to be okay.”
“How can you say that? You don’t know.”
“You’re right. I don’t know. The only thing I know is how to be a personal trainer. And the biggest lesson I’ve learned there is that you can’t have the benefits of the hard work if you don’t allow yourself to feel the pain of it.”
“What benefits? Losing my figure? Losing sleep? Losing my job?”
“Gaining our baby. Who you are going to fall madly in love with the minute he or she gets here.”
“But what if I don’t?” And just like that, I finally get to the crux of my own issue. I’m terrified. Not of labor or delivery, although they aren’t fun right now. I’m afraid I won’t love my baby. That I don’t have the same maternal instinct as anyone else. That I’ll be like Abel’s ex-wife and ditch my kid for my own selfish dreams. That I’ll put the same look on my baby’s face that Mabel’s mom puts on hers.
I don’t want to hurt my baby. More than anything in this world, I want to do right by her. What if I can’t?
“Look at me.” Joey gently tugs on my chin, so I look up at him. Pushing the sweaty hair off my face and wiping the tears off my cheeks, he says the words I need to hear. “The fact that you’re so worried means you already do.”
Just like that, my tears stop as I think about what he just said.
I’m worried because I already care.
I’m worried because I don’t want to do it wrong.
I’m worried because I feel protective.
I’m worried because I love him. Or her.
I blink rapidly as a lightbulb seems to go off in my brain. “You think?”
“I know. Rosalind, you aren’t going to be like your mom. Or Dinah. Or Elliott. You’re going to be like you. And that’s what this baby wants more than anything.”
In between contractions, I reach over and kiss him on the lips, nothing salacious, just with genuine appreciation. “I love you.”
The words pop out before I can stop them, but I can’t find it in me to care. Take it or leave it, that’s up to him. But this entire conversation is the most honest I’ve been with anyone, including myself.
“I know.” He smirks and I shove him, making him laugh. “I know because I love you, too. And we’re going to be the world’s worst parents, but as long as we love our baby with everything in us, it won’t matter.”
Just like that, another contraction hits and his sweet words don’t hold as much meaning as they did. “As long as I don’t rip your face off first for doing this to me. Holy shit, that hurts.”
And it continues to hurt every forty-five seconds for the next hour. Yes, an hour before the on-call doctor, Dr. Chan, finally moseys his way on in to check on me. As if my insides aren’t being ripped out of my body. What is it with everyone taking their sweet-ass time today? Don’t they see I’m in crisis?
“Hello, Rosalind,” he says with a smile I want to rip right off his face as he washes his hands. “Let’s see how far along you are. You’re going to feel some pressure.”
Once again, someone takes fisting to a whole new level, making me cry out in pain. “Yep. It’s time to push. You didn’t get an epidural?”
My nostrils flare and I swear flames shoot from my eyes, but since no one flinches, I guess I’m not as dangerous as I feel.
“It didn’t take,” Heather says while sliding a thermometer over my forehead. “Doctor Chan.” She shows him the results and he frowns.
Apparently, Joey noticed the exchange, too. He squeezes my hand a little tighter. “What? What’s wrong?”
More people come into the room, bustling about as if they belong. A high-tech baby bed is moved in and the head of my bed is raised up. Lights come from out of nowhere and equipment is moved around.
Dr. Chan begins putting on a gown and a mask
, new gloves. This is really happening. I’m about to have a baby. “Rosalind, you have a small temperature, but we’re going to try to get your temp down before we start pushing.”
“Is that bad?”
“Probably not. It’s not uncommon for something like this to happen. Easy to treat, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
“But the baby will be okay, right? I mean, he’s already almost three weeks early.”
“Three weeks is still considered normal, so I have no doubt he’ll be fine.” He looks at the monitors. “Heartbeat is in normal ranges. Contractions steady. So far, so good for both of you.”
I look over at Joey, eyes wide in fear.
“Hey,” he says softly. “It’s okay. We’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
A cool washcloth is immediately on my forehead, another one around the back of my neck. It does nothing to ease my concerns about this new obstacle. But the one thing I have no doubt of is that Joey’s got me. Not just now, but for forever.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
JOEY
Despite how calm everyone is on the outside, myself included, on the inside, I am freaking out. Not because the baby is almost here, but because of this fever thing. Of everything I imagined going wrong, losing Rosalind was not one of them. Suddenly, I feel like there is a real possibility she could be very sick, and I’m kicking myself for not calling her mother when we got here.
Granted, Rosalind made me promise not to call because the idea of her mother fawning all over her during labor and refusing to leave during delivery had her in a panic. I honored her wishes, but I’m concerned it was the wrong move on my part.
I’m also terrified for myself and our baby.
I refuse to let my doubts show, though. No matter what happens, in this moment, Rosalind needs me to be a rock, so that’s what I will be.
“Let’s go ahead and try a couple of pushes,” Dr. Chan says gently, which does nothing to make me feel better or to take the look of agony off Rosalind’s face. “Joey, you grab her leg under the knee to hold it up while Heather does the same on the other side.”
“Ooooooh….” Rosalind groans and it makes it even harder to tamp down my fear.
“Does that hurt?” I ask, not wanting to cause her any more pain than she’s already in.
“Everything hurts,” she says with a moan, eyes closed, some stray tears sliding down her cheeks. “Just do whatever it takes to get this over with.”
“Here comes another contraction,” Dr. Chan says, as if the look on Rosalind’s face didn’t already tell me that. “On the count of three, lift your head and chest up and push down like you’re going to the bathroom. One, two, three…”
Rosalind does as he instructs, grunting as she pushes with all her might. From my angle, nothing seems to happen, but he seems pleased.
When she runs out of steam, she lies back down and I wipe the tears from her face. She opens her eyes and looks at me, practically pleading with me to make this better for her. My heart feels like it’s being ripped apart with the guilt that there’s nothing I can do for her in this moment except hold her hand.
I rest my forehead against hers and whisper, “I love you. You are so strong.”
She nods and takes a deep breath, trying to regain her strength like only a woman who is creating a miracle can do.
“One more time,” Dr. Chan encourages as Rosalind’s expression turns into a grimace once more.
She sits up and we go back to our positions, holding her in place as she yells through the push.
When the contraction is over and she rests, Heather runs a thermometer over Rosalind’s forehead. I try not to pay attention, instead focusing on the things Dr. Chan is saying about the baby progressing. No one seems to be on alert, which gives me hope that maybe everything will be okay. Hope that is replaced by fear again with Dr. Chan’s next words.
“Rosalind, there’s nothing to worry about, but your temperature is still over a hundred, which means you may have a little bit of chorio.”
My heart feels like it stops. I know chorio isn’t uncommon, but she hasn’t been in labor that long. She shouldn’t have it after only five hours. That part is the most concerning.
Focus, Joey. Stay calm. You’re her rock.
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“What is chorio?” Rosalind adds. “Like an infection?”
“Exactly. An infection of your amniotic membranes.” Dr. Chan is so calm. I’m so very impressed with how he doesn’t seem to be freaking out about everything that has gone wrong so far. “It happens sometimes. When your water breaks, it allows some bacteria different access to your body, but it usually doesn’t happen this fast. You’re the exception to the rule.”
I refuse to think of how that bacteria could have gotten in her, so instead I ask, “What happens now?”
He looks up, a serious expression on his face. “The biggest issue here is we don’t want the baby to get the infection. So, when he or she is born, they’re going to have to spend a couple days in the NICU. Just to get some IV antibiotics as a precautionary measure.”
“What? NO!” Rosalind yells, her mama bear roaring to life, to hell with the pain she’s in.
“Hold on, babe.” I grip her hand tighter, as much to get her support of me as me giving it to her. “Let’s hear what he has to say, okay?”
She looks at me, eyes wide, the overwhelming fear evident on her face. “They can’t take my baby, Joey. They can’t.”
I stroke her hair back and hold her gaze. “They’re not, honey. The baby isn’t going anywhere without us, I promise. This is about making sure the baby doesn’t get sick, okay?” Her eyes are still full of fear. “I’ll go with the baby when he’s born, okay? I can do that, right?” I ask the doctor.
He responds with a reassuring, “Absolutely.”
“See? The baby won’t be alone. I’ll be right there. I won’t leave his side. We got this.”
Rosalind bites her lip and nods, squeezing her eyes tight just as another contraction hits. I coach her through pushing again before turning back to the doctor when we have another lull.
“You were saying, the baby goes to the NICU?”
“Just for a couple days. We’ll have him on an IV and will give him precautionary antibiotics, just to ensure he doesn’t get an infection.”
“What about Rosalind? Is she going to be okay?”
“Chorio is nothing to ignore, but it’s relatively easy to treat in these situations. Rosalind”—he turns to speak to her directly, which I appreciate—“you’re also going to be treated with IV antibiotics, so you won’t be discharged for at least three days as well.”
“Will I still get to see my baby?”
“Absolutely. The bright spot to your epidural not kicking in is you’ll be able to go see him probably within the first hour he’s born. Just as soon as you’re cleaned up and ready. You don’t have to wait for the numbness to wear off.”
“Okay,” she says through a deep breath and I know she’s prepping her body for more pain. “Okay, I can do that.”
Heather hands the doctor a pill.
“Before you have another contraction, though, I need to give you a suppository of Tylenol to try and get your fever down. You’ll feel a little pressure in your rear entrance.” I turn my eyes away as he sticks his finger where I’ve never been allowed before. “There. Done. Once that takes effect, you’ll feel better.”
“I hope so because here comes another one,” Rosalind groans and the doctor encourages her to push again.
And just like that, she gives birth…
To the Tylenol.
I try really hard not to laugh and by the looks on the doctor’s and nurse’s faces, I’m not the only one. Unfortunately, Rosalind notices and looks around at all of us.
“What? What happened?” She catches my eye and understanding seems to dawn. She knows me too well. “I just pooped out that Tylenol, didn’t I?”
The room erupts into some much-needed la
ughter. Surprisingly, even Rosalind smiles. I kiss her on the forehead and hope she understands none of us are remotely grossed out. Only relieved the tension has dissipated.
“My fault,” Dr. Chan says. “I should have known better than to give it to you right before a contraction. Let’s try that again.”
“Can’t you just use my IV or something?”
“It would be nice,” Heather jumps in as she hands him another pill. “Unfortunately, Tylenol doesn’t come in IV form, so in certain scenarios, this is our best option.”
Once again, I avoid watching the whole process. I may not have a problem watching my baby be born, but there are still some things a man doesn’t need to see. Fortunately, though, this time things seem to stay put.
We continue holding her legs when she pushes and wiping her brow when she relaxes. I am in complete awe of this woman and how hard she’s working, with very little complaint. Well, there’s complaining about how much it hurts and a few random threats to rip my nuts off, but overall, Rosalind just seems to tap into the strength I didn’t know she had.
It takes only five minutes and as many pushes before I see a head full of dark curly hair popping out.
“Holy shit,” I breathe, amazed by what’s happening in front of me. I look over at Rosalind, who is panting heavy, eyes closed. “Do you see that, babe? Look.”
Her eyes peel open and she glances down as Heather holds up a mirror so she can see. “Yeah, that’s weird,” she croaks out, voice thick with exhaustion, before relaxing and closing her eyes again.
“Just one more push, Rosalind, and your baby will be here,” Dr Chan instructs. I swear I can see the smile on his face, even with the mask in the way. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah.” She takes a deep breath, bends her body forward, and grabs on to the back of her knees. Then she holds her breath and pushes.
With that last burst of adrenaline, the most amazing thing happens—my life completely upends. As I watch my baby come into this world, I realize everything I have read, everything I have listened to, every plan I had in place is completely irrelevant. Nothing matters except that my baby is healthy and happy and feels loved. Nothing.
Weights of Wrath (Cipher Office Book 4) Page 22
