A Story Like Ours

by Robin Huber

  Ow! Shit! I grip the door handle again as another contraction squeezes my stomach. My fingers curl around it tightly as it pulls harder and harder. “Shit!”

  “Just hold on, we’re almost there. It’s not too much farther.”

  The contraction releases its grip on me and I rejoice for the minute it allows me to catch my breath before another one hits. I reach for the door handle again and grit through my teeth, “I had no idea it would feel like this. It burns.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. We’re almost there. Just a couple more streets.” I look up at the downtown buildings that glitter in the night sky and tower over the one-way streets that lead to the hospital. I stare at them, thinking fondly of our apartment, surprised that I actually miss it a little. When I see the hospital, I inhale a deep breath, feeling only slightly better.

  “Okay,” Sebastian says, pulling through the circular drive in front of the main entrance. “We’re here.” He gets out and runs around the car to open my door, which I practically fall out of into his arms, because as soon as my feet hit the pavement, another contraction strikes. I hold on to him and cry against his chest, squeezing his arms tightly, until it’s over. When I loosen my grip on him, he looks down at me and says, “Okay, I now have a totally different opinion about those moaning pregnant ladies you see in the hospital on TV.”

  I give him a worried look. “Was it not quiet?”

  He pulls his mouth to the side and shakes his head.

  “Sorry.” I pout. “It hurts.”

  “Sweetie, you can cry and moan as loud as you want.” He rubs my back and grabs my things. “Come on, they’re waiting on you.” He pulls me inside to a waiting wheelchair and a man wearing gray scrubs.

  “Lucy Bennett?” he asks, greeting us with an enthusiastic smile.

  I look up at Sebastian and say softly, “It’s supposed to be Cole.”

  Sebastian gives me a funny look and answers for me. “Yes, she’s Lucy Bennett. She’s a patient of Dr. Fletcher.”

  “Okay, Lucy, why don’t you go ahead and have a seat.” He pushes the wheelchair toward me, which I happily fall into. “How are you guys doing tonight? Are you ready to have a baby?” he asks excitedly.

  “Oh, um…” Sebastian smiles and shakes his head. “I’m not the father.”

  “Oh”—he gives Sebastian a firm nod—“well, good for you.”

  “No, I, um…” He looks at me and then looks at the man and says simply, “Thank you.”

  I smile and take his hand as the man begins to push me, squeezing it tightly as another contraction works its way around my stomach.

  “Her contractions are getting pretty strong,” Sebastian says, wincing with me.

  “How’s your pain level, Lucy?”

  “On what scale?” I grit.

  “Let’s just go with a solid seven?” Bas offers.

  “Okay, well we can help with that. After we get you upstairs, we can have the anesthesiologist come talk to you.”

  “I don’t want an epidural,” I say to Sebastian, catching my breath.

  “Mm-hmm.” He presses his lips together and nods over a concerned smile. “Let’s just see how you feel once you get settled in and then you can decide.”

  The man wheels me into the elevator and we ride up to the maternity floor in uncomfortable silence, until the doors open and I’m greeted by two nurses in blue scrubs. One has short blond hair that’s pushed off her face by a stretchy white headband and the other has long curly brown hair that’s pulled back into a ponytail.

  “Hi, Lucy, I’m Sarah,” the blonde says, giving me a welcoming smile.

  The brunette brings her hands to her hips. “I’m Meghan. We’ll be your nurses tonight.”

  “Hi,” I say, glancing up at them.

  “Okay, Lucy, I leave you in their capable hands,” my wheelchair driver says, smiling at me. “Good luck.”

  I reach for Sebastian’s hand as another contraction squeezes me, and he looks at the nurses expectantly. “Is her room ready?”

  “Yes, right this way,” Meghan says, leading us to the far corner of the floor, away from the elevators and the nurses’ station. “Here’s your suite,” she says, walking into the spacious room.

  Sebastian pushes me across the hardwood floor to the bed. “Is this where she’ll have the baby?”

  “Yep,” Sarah says, closing the blinds over the large windows that overlook the city. “This is where she’ll labor, and when the time comes, we’ll give the room a bit of a clinical overhaul so that Dr. Fletcher can deliver her right here.”

  “Is he here?” I ask hopefully.

  “Yes. But he’s currently prepping for a C-section.”

  “Right,” I say, remembering that I’m not his only patient. “How long does that take?” I ask selfishly.

  Meghan looks up from the various devices she’s checking around the room and says, “Don’t worry, Lucy, he’ll be here.”

  “Are you expecting anyone else?” Sarah asks, helping me up onto the bed, which is surprisingly soft.

  “Yes, my fiancé. He’s flying back from New York right now.”

  “Oh, good,” she says. “We were worried he wouldn’t make it back in time.”

  “You know who he is, then,” Sebastian says.

  “Yes. But don’t worry. Your privacy is our second highest concern,” she says, winking at me.

  “What’s your first?” Sebastian asks, putting my bag down.

  “The baby, of course.”

  “Oh, right,” Sebastian says.

  “Speaking of which,” I groan, and close my eyes.

  “Okay, just take deep breaths,” Sarah says calmly as the contraction wraps around me. She puts her hand on my back and says again, “Deep breaths.” I try to breathe in and out as she rubs my back through the contraction. When it passes, she smiles and says, “Good job.”

  “Lucy, why don’t you go ahead and get changed,” Meghan says, handing me a soft open-back hospital gown, reminiscent of my days after the accident. “We’ll be back in a few minutes. Everything off, ties go in the back.”

  They leave the room and Sebastian gives me an empathetic look, as if he’s watching my dignity jump off me, one traitorous piece at a time. “Want me to step out?” he asks, while I gather the gown in my hands.

  “No, just turn around. I wouldn’t want to scar you for life with my alien body.”

  “You know I really don’t care.”

  “My dignity is abandoning me by the second. I’d like to hold on to as much of it as possible for as long as I can.”

  He laughs and turns around and patiently faces the wall while I change into the gown.

  “The nurses are young,” I say, yanking my yoga pants off my ankles.

  “Yeah, but they seem to know what they’re doing.”

  I pull my shirt off over my head and say, “As long as Dr. Fletcher is here, that’s all I care about.”

  “That’s all?” he asks, turning his head toward his shoulder.

  “Well, obviously that’s not all I care about.” I tie my gown behind me and sit back down on the comfortable bed, feeling slightly better to be out of my binding clothes. “Okay,” I say, scooting back against the pillows. “You can turn around.”

  Sebastian turns around and sits on the edge of the bed. “Reminds me of the last time I saw you in a hospital bed.” He pulls the warmed blankets up over my legs and stomach. “How’s that?”

  “Better.” I close my eyes and exhale softly.

  “Of course, you weren’t smuggling a beach ball under your blankets back then.”

  I laugh, but another contraction squeezes me, pulling me up off the pillows. “Ow,” I cry, gripping the rail on the side of the bed.

  “Okay, just breathe,” he says calmly.

  “I’m trying,” I cry.

  “He’s right, you have to breathe through them, or they’ll hurt a lot worse,” a new nurse says, walking into the room.

  I look up at her stern face and the wiry gray ha
ir that surrounds it.

  “Did you take any Lamaze classes?”

  “No,” I say, grimacing.

  She gives me a disapproving look. “The hospital offers them for a reason.”

  “Actually, many would argue that Lamaze is a dated technique and the rhythmic breathing can worsen the pain,” Sebastian says confidently.

  I smile at him as the contraction releases its grip on me. The baby books.

  “Well, they probably haven’t delivered as many babies as I have,” she says to him.

  “Will you be delivering mine?” I ask, trying to sort through feelings of concern and confidence.

  “No,” Meghan says, walking back into the room. “Her shift just ended.”

  “I just came to get an update for Dr. Fletcher.”

  “Oh,” I say, glancing between them.

  “Lucy, I’m going to go ahead and check you now,” Meghan says, and Sebastian springs to his feet. “We’ll see how far dilated you are.” She smiles and pulls on a pair of gloves.

  “Okay.” I push the blankets off me and scoot down a little, but another contraction burns across my stomach. “Ow!”

  “Okay, just breathe,” she says calmly, waiting to check me until it’s through. “Just tell me when it’s over.”

  When it passes, I gasp, “It’s over.”

  “All right, let’s see how far dilated you are.” She does a quick examination and I pray that I’m not dilated very far. She looks up at me and pulls her gloves off. “You’re about three centimeters.”

  “That’s good right?” Sebastian asks hopefully. “That means we have time?”

  “Yes, she has to get to ten centimeters before she can push.”

  “And how long will that take?” he asks, giving her a serious look.

  “Good luck,” the older nurse says to Meghan, and then leaves the room, in exchange for Sarah, who returns with a smile.

  “Don’t worry about her,” Meghan says. “She’s always cranky at the end of her shift,” she whispers.

  “But she’s delivered a lot of babies?” I ask, wondering how much experience Meghan and Sarah have.

  “Yes. But so have we,” Sarah says confidently, and I exhale a comforted breath.

  She reaches around me. “I’m going to get you hooked up to a fetal monitor now and then we can call the anesthesiologist.”

  “Oh, but I don’t want an epidural.”

  “Okay,” she says, helping me sit up. “Well, you don’t have to decide right now. Just let us know if you change your mind.”

  “Okay.” She fastens the monitor around my stomach and it fills the room with the fast swooshing sound of the baby’s heartbeat. “I love that sound,” I say, falling back against the pillows.

  “Is that the baby’s heartbeat?” Sebastian asks, and I realize he’s never heard it before.

  “Yeah.” I smile up at him.

  “It’s so fast,” he says, pulling his dark eyebrows together.

  Meghan pats his shoulder reassuringly. “That’s a good thing.”

  “Dr. Fletcher said her heart’s really strong. Just like Sam,” I say quietly to myself.

  Sebastian reaches for my hand and sits beside me on the bed again. “He’s going to make it, Lucy.”

  “We’ll be back soon. Just let us know if you need anything,” Sarah says, following Meghan out of the room.

  “Want some of these really yummy-looking ice chips?” Sebastian asks, picking up a small plastic cup.

  “Sure.”

  He hands me the cup and I let a few small pieces of ice fall into my mouth. As they melt, the cool water runs down my throat and it actually makes me feel a little better. “Can I have some more?”

  “Yeah.” He shakes a few more pieces into the cup and hands it back to me, but I almost crush it in my hand when another contraction wraps around me, squeezing me hard. I feel Sebastian take the cup from me. “Just breathe. Inhale…Exhale.”

  When it’s over, I drop my head back against the pillows and pant, “Maybe I should just get the epidural.”

  “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

  “I’m just so tired,” I say, wondering how I’m going to endure this for hours.

  “Do you want me to call the nurse?”

  “No, not yet.” I close my eyes. “I can keep going. If I can just sleep for a few minutes, I think I can keep going.”

  “Okay.”

  I fall into a reprieve of sleep, but minutes, or maybe seconds later, another contraction jerks me awake. “Ow!” I cry, squeezing Sebastian’s hand, which is still wrapped around mine. I close my eyes again and take deep breaths, bearing the pain until it passes. Then I fall back asleep for a few minutes.

  This goes on for a while.

  “Lucy, I need to check you again,” I hear Meghan say, and it pulls me out of the light sleep I’d just fallen back into.

  I open my eyes and nod reluctantly. “Okay.” I scoot down on the bed a little.

  “Did you get some sleep?” she asks, pushing my knees apart.

  “A little,” I say, wincing as another contraction strikes.

  “Five centimeters. You’re moving quickly.”

  “What?” I groan with what little air is left in my lungs.

  “Already?” Sebastian asks, unable to hide the worry in his voice.

  She looks at the paper that’s feeding out of the monitor beside the bed. “You’re having strong contractions, Lucy. They’re moving you along quickly.”

  I give Sebastian a panicked look. “Call Sam. See how much longer.”

  He pulls his phone out of his pocket and holds it to his ear. “The call won’t go through. Maybe they’re in the air.”

  “Try Miles.”

  “Don’t worry, Lucy. Even though you’re progressing quickly now, sometimes labor will stall,” Meghan says.

  “Same with Miles. I’ll try to send a text.”

  “We don’t get great reception in the hospital,” Megan adds, giving him an apologetic look.

  Sebastian raises his eyebrows and asks, “Why don’t they put that on the brochure?”

  I look at my stomach and say firmly, “Stay. In. There.”

  Meghan laughs. “Just hang in there, he still has plenty of time. I’ll check on you again soon.”

  “Bas, text him the room number.”

  “I’m trying, but it won’t go through.” He picks up the hospital phone. “Maybe I can get through with the landline.” After a few seconds he says, “It’s going straight to voicemail.”

  “Leave a message.”

  “Okay.”

  A short minute later, another contraction pulls me up off the pillows. I lean over and put my feet on the floor.

  “What are you doing?” Sebastian asks.

  “I need to walk.” I reach for his hand and slowly walk around the bed, groaning and crying through the pain. “Ow!” I groan, dropping my hands on the bed. “This fucking hurts!”

  Sebastian waits for it to pass before saying, “Lucy, I really think you should get the epidural now.”

  “Mm-hmm,” I squeak, climbing back into the bed.

  “I’ll go get the nurse.”

  “Mm-HMMMMM.” The air rushes from of my lungs as another contraction burns through me.

  “Another one?” he asks, pausing at the door, but I don’t answer. “Nurse! Meghan…Sarah…somebody!” he shouts from the door, and then rushes back over to me.

  “I want the epidural. I want the epidural,” I cry, gripping the bed sheets in my hands.

  “Lucy, what’s going on?” Sarah asks, hurrying over to me.

  “I need the epidural. I need it now. Please,” I cry.

  “Okay, I’ll call the anesthesiologist. Just hang in there, you’re doing great.”

  I try to focus on the swooshing of the baby’s heartbeat, but it slows down when the contraction squeezes me harder. “Did you hear that?” I ask Sebastian. “The baby’s heartbeat slowed down.”

  “I didn’t hear it.”

&nbs
p; “Get the nurse again.”

  Sebastian calls for Sarah again and she comes back into my room. “The baby’s heart rate is slowing down,” he says to her.

  She checks the paper feeding out of the monitor beside the bed. “Yes, it did drop a little, but it’s nothing to worry about. It happens with contractions because they’re pushing on the baby too.”

  “Are they hurting her?”

  “No, she just feels the pressure, kind of like a firm squeeze.”

  “Okay.”

  “Lucy, I’m Dr. Mooney,” an unfamiliar man says, entering the room. “Dr. Fletcher asked me to come check on you. I’m the attending physician.”

  “Is he still in surgery?” I ask, trying to remember that the other mother needs him more than I do right now.

  “Yes.” He gives me a warm smile. “But he should be here soon.”

  I nod and exhale an anxious breath. “Okay,” I say quietly. “It’s going to be okayyyyyyy!”

  “You’re having another contraction,” I hear him say, but I’m too lost in the pain to look up. “This graph shows her contractions,” he says to Sebastian. “You can see how strong they are and how quickly they’re coming. She’s not getting much of a break in between them.”

  When the contraction passes, Dr. Mooney asks, “Lucy, would it be okay if I checked your progress now? I want to see how these contractions are moving you along.”

  I nod and drop my knees to the side and tug Sebastian back by my head.

  Dr. Mooney looks up at Sarah and asks, “What was she at last?”

  “Five centimeters, about thirty minutes ago.”

  “She’s at seven now.” He pulls his gloves off. “You’re progressing quickly, Lucy.”

  “But I don’t want to progress quickly. I’m waiting on my fiancé. He’s flying in from New York. Is there something you can do to slow it down?”

  “Sometimes the epidural slows it down a bit,” Sarah says.

  Meghan walks back into the room, followed by a man in green scrubs, who I pray is the anesthesiologist.

  He smiles at me. “Lucy, are you ready for your epidural now?”

  I nod over the contraction that’s burning across my stomach. “Yes,” I say through my teeth, balling my hands into tight fists.

  “Lucy, it was a pleasure to meet you,” Dr. Mooney says, before leaving the room. “Please tell Sam congratulations for me. We were all rooting for him.”