I push her along to the main desk, one hand on the wheelchair, my other hand firmly gripped around her shoulder. “My wife is in labor,” I tell the receptionist.
“Third floor. They’ll take it from there,” the woman says, smiling brightly. “Congratulations, Mom and Dad.”Mom and Dad. We’re going to be parents. We’re going to be parents! This is amazing. This is incredible! I can’t wait to see her little face. I wonder if she’ll look like Ellie. God, I hope so. I want her to have Ellie’s blonde curls and her big hazel eyes, and her smile that lights up an entire room. I hope she has my humor and Ellie’s brains. I just know she’s going to be perfect.
“Can you believe this?” Ellie asks, rolling into the elevator. “Three years doesn’t seem like such a big deal now. I’d wait forever for this little girl.”
“But we don’t have to. We’re so damn lucky, baby.” I wheel her out of the elevator onto the third floor where a nurse immediately greets us. She takes one look at Ellie and ushers us over to a small office.
“I just have a few questions for you, Eleanor. Then we’ll get you checked in.”
I try to remain calm, or at least make it look like I’m staying calm, but I’m still losing it. What kind of questions could they possibly have right now? We pre-registered. Did everything the way we were supposed to, and I called Ellie’s doctor’s office to let them know we were headed over her. The nurse asks Ellie to confirm her basic information and creates her a hospital wristband. Then she leans over her desk and places it around Ellie’s wrist. Although she’s breathing through another contraction right now, Ellie grunts out the words “thank you”. That’s my girl—always polite, no matter what the situation.
“I will page your doctor to let him know you’re here. In the meantime, you two can follow me.” The woman leads us out the door and through a set of double doors into a large room separated by what must be a dozen curtains. “One of our triage doctors will examine you and determine if you’re in active labor.” She places Ellie’s chart on the door. “There’s a gown for you to change into, and we’ll need a urine sample as well,” she says as she points to the cup.
How could she not be in active labor? Of course she is. I mean, look at her. I’m trying to keep my cool, but I just want someone to take her pain away. I can’t watch her suffering like this.
As if reading my mind, Ellie says, “Don’t worry, Hunt, everything is going to be okay.” I wish I could say her laughter comforts me, but I know she’s forcing it for my sake. What am I saying? I should be comforting her right now. I’m already failing as a husband and father.
I’ve pretty much been acting like this since the day she got the blood work back, confirming the pregnancy. There was so much to do to prepare for our baby, and I couldn’t let either of my girls down. I can’t let them down now either.
Ellie is trying to get her clothes off, and I’m just standing here staring at her. I force myself to snap out of my daze and take her by the arm, helping her step out of her pants. I grab the gown from the bed and slip it over her head. “You look so beautiful right now,” I tell her, and I mean it. She’s glowing. She’s happy, despite the pain. She was placed on earth for this purpose and I can see that right now.I’m the luckiest man on earth.
“Sit down,” Ellie whispers. “I’m going to use the bathroom. Don’t worry. Just relax.” She leaves with a smile. She’s smiling. I should be smiling, too. So why does the room feel like it’s spinning around me? I shouldn’t be practicing the breathing exercises without her, but I have to, or I’m going to pass out. She’s in labor and I’m the one having trouble breathing. I have to breathe harder because it feels like I can’t get enough air right now.
Ellie returns within a few minutes and hoists herself up on the bed before pulling the sheet up around her chest to get comfortable. “The contractions are getting closer together,” she says. “I didn’t think it would happen so fast.”
The class we took said that first-time moms usually have a long labor, so it’s okay to take our time when coming to the hospital. They gave us this five-one-one rule. Five minutes apart, lasting for one minute, and for more than an hour. At least, I think that’s what it was, but right now my mind is drawing a blank. God, I hope we didn’t wait too long. They’ll think I’m a horrible husband and father-to-be.
“What is going on in that mind of yours?” Ellie asks, seeing the look of distress on my face.
I bring my focus over to her pale face. “Nothing, baby. I’m just excited. Anxious.”
She reaches her hand out to me. “Me too.”
A doctor comes in to check her, and he causes her more pain by doing so. Part of me would like to hurt him for hurting her, but again, I refrain from saying anything, since I know I'm overreacting. “Well then, you are almost nine centimeters. I can feel the baby’s head, and we need to get you into a room immediately.”
“Um, I need to speak withmydoctor first. It’s important,” she says, panic suddenly filling her voice.
“Ell, he’ll be here. Don’t worry, okay?” I say, trying to reassure her. She’s looking at me with a blank expression, like she doesn’t want to respond, or maybe it’s another contraction coming. I’m not sure.
“Okay,” she says, uncertainty filling her eyes.
“Can you get her an epidural? Anything for the pain?” I ask the doctor.
“Mr. Cole, there’s not enough time for pain management,” he replies. That only means more pain for Ellie. I did this to her. I should have brought her here earlier. I’ve caused her pain.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry,” I tell her solemnly, as someone lifts the brakes on the bed she’s lying on.
“It’s okay. I’ll be okay but I need my doctor,” she moans out. I keep her hand in mine as we run down the hall into another room where two nurses help her onto a larger bed. They’re hooking her up to a bunch of wires and an IV. Is this how it always is? Everyone looks so serious.
“Her blood pressure is low,” one of the nurses says. “We need to turn her onto her side.” Ellie’s eyes are set on mine, ignoring all of the fuss around her. Our fingers are still interwoven and she’s squeezing tightly. “I can’t get a heartbeat on the baby,” the nurse goes on to say.
What?“What do you mean you can’t get a heartbeat on the baby? Is she okay? What’s happening?” I spit out all of these questions at once as I feel theblood drain from my face...from my entire body.
“Mr. Cole, please relax,” the nurse says calmly. “Eleanor, when is the last time you felt the baby kick?”
“Um, uh, a couple of hours ago I guess. I haven’t been feeling much through the contractions.”
The nurses all share a look, and one runs out the door.God, help us. What is happening right now? I drop down to my knees and take Ellie’s hand, bringing it up to my lips. She gives me a small smile and says, “Remember, the class said this stuff happens sometimes, Hunter. I need you to find Dr. Moore, though. It’s really important. He has my birth plan and I need him.” I’m worried. I’m so unbelievably worried right now, and although I hate to ignore her wishes, I’m not leaving her side to go find her doctor, wherever the hell he is right now. There are fine doctors on call who can deliver our baby, and if Dr. Moore doesn’t get here in time, they’ll have to be okay.
