Avoiding Amy Jackson

by N. A. Alcorn

  “Fuck! I think I just pissed on myself!” Ellen howls vociferously.

  My head snaps in her direction and I see that the crotch of her pants are now soaking wet. That’s just fantastic. Perfect timing. I’m so happy that my best friend’s water broke inside of my car on the passenger’s seat upholstery. Fan-fucking-tastic.

  “Ellie, I think your water just broke, hun.” Lizzy gently places her hand on Ellen’s shoulder and attempts to calm her erratic breathing down.

  “What! Oh fuck! Fuck!” Ellen grasps her abdomen in obvious discomfort. “I have so much pressure! I feel like I’m going to shit a basketball ball!”

  Son of a bitch!

  “Do not push! Whatever you do, do not push!” I sternly shout as I pull up to the front doors of the hospital.

  This cannot be happening right now. I am not going to deliver my best friend’s baby in the passenger’s seat of my Honda Civic. Nope! No way! I hurriedly jump out of the driver’s seat and grab a wheelchair sitting just inside the lobby doors. I sprint back towards my car and open the passenger’s side door. “Get in! Get your pregnant ass in this wheelchair now!” I’m starting to panic. Ellen is pretty far into her labor, like in a ‘probably doesn’t have time for an epidural’ kind of way. Who progresses this quickly with their first baby?

  “How long have you been having contractions?” I ask as Lizzy helps Ellen sit down in the wheelchair.

  “Uh…” Ellen groans loudly as she pants through another contraction. “I don’t fucking know… I’ve been having contractions since yesterday.”

  “Yesterday!” I shout noisily and Lizzy gives me a stern look, letting me know that now is not the time to discuss the fact that Ellen waited over twenty-fours before letting anyone know she was having contractions. I mean, Lizzy and I had to practically drag her ass into the car to get her to come to the hospital. If we wouldn’t have done that, then she would have literally delivered Lucy in my living room.

  I will wait to slap Ellen until after she has Lucy.

  I don’t even care that I’m leaving my car parked illegally in front of the hospital. I’m on a mission to get this screaming pregnant lady into a hospital bed. I push the wheelchair through the ER doors like my tits are on fire and my sprint workout has me puffing almost as hard as Ellen. I definitely should have spent more time at the gym before the fiasco that is Ellen’s delivery occurred.

  This is the absolute craziest scenario possible.

  Well, maybe not as crazy as delivering your baby in your toilet or the back seat of your car or at the gas station, but still, this is absolutely ridiculous. Who seriously doesn’t have time for an epidural with their first child? Apparently my best friend Ellen. Although, right now she probably isn’t aware that she is most likely going to have to give her own Little House on the Prairie rendition of a natural delivery. I’m just thankful that we’ve got her inside the hospital doors. My apartment would have been a terrible, terrible place for this delivery to happen.

  “There you are! There’s the asshole that knocked me up!” Ellen shrieks once she spots Trent waiting for us by the nurses’ station in the ER.

  His eyebrows rise and then he makes eye contact with me, gauging my reaction towards Ellen’s current mental state. My response is to mouth, “Good luck,” to him. Because seriously, Trent is going to need a hell of a lot of luck to get through this ordeal. Everyone in the ER is currently eyeing us, seeing as Ellen’s screams made our entry apparent to everyone, patients included.

  “I’m not sure we even have time to get her upstairs,” I attempt to whisper to Trent.

  “Let’s just wheel her into bed nine and I’ll call the OB unit to send staff down to us,” Tony updates as he calls the charge nurse for the labor and delivery staff, instructing her to send staff down here as soon as physically possible.

  “What the hell are you doing? Why are you wheeling me into an ER bed? Take me and my god damn vagina to labor and delivery!” Ellen puts her feet down, trying to stop the wheelchair while simultaneously panting and grunting through contractions.

  “We need to get her in a bed like yesterday. She’s already starting to push during these contractions.” My eyes lock with Trent’s as he tries to coax the crazy bitch from her wheelchair.

  “Get off of me! Fuck you guys! I’m walking to the eleva—” Ellen stands up, takes a few steps, and then immediately stops in her tracks, squatting down with a contraction.

  “Baby, we need you to get in the bed. Now.” Trent’s voice is stern. He’s more than aware that if we don’t get her in the bed, we’re going to be catching a baby from between her legs while she’s vertical.

  “Fine! Call the epidural guy! Call the epidural guy!” She’s now frantic and reaching a point where I think she realizes that shit is about to go down.

  “Ellie, it’s going to be okay. Just think about that beautiful baby girl we’re about to meet.” Trent helps Ellen get in the bed as I proceed to throw on gloves and prepare for the absolute worst—delivering my best friend’s baby.

  Trent pulls up a stool as I take Ellen’s pants and underwear off. She’s in so much pain that her modesty is nonexistent. She couldn’t care less that her snatch is in full view and her soon-to-be husband is currently sitting right between her legs, ready to deliver his own baby.

  Where’s A Baby Story when you need them?

  I mean this is quite the perfect moment, right? Ellen screaming profanities while Lizzy, Trent, and I try our best to calm her irrational ass down. I understand why she’s completely losing it. Honestly I do. Who wouldn’t be losing their mind when they’re getting ready to push a human being out of their vagina without any type of pain relief? I would be off my fucking rocker. I’m thankful I get to be a participant instead of the person who is currently getting ready to have a natural delivery that was far from planned.

  Ellen was set on getting an epidural.

  She was ready for her epidural at thirty-seven weeks. If her obstetrician would have agreed to it, she would have gotten her epidural placed during her last trimester and had Trent wheel her numb ass around until after she had the baby. I’m pretty sure she asked her doctor if she could keep the epidural until her six-week post-partum checkup. Yeah, she was more than convinced when it came to the entire pain management subject.

  She was going to get an epidural, no matter what.

  Lizzy and I are on either side of Ellen, holding her legs, while Trent sits at the foot of the bed with sterile gloves on, ready to deliver his child. For someone who is about to become a father, he is completely calm, cool, and levelheaded. He continues to sweetly encourage Ellen, telling her that he’s proud of her and that she’s doing a wonderful a job. The man is a saint for maintaining his sanity while his pregnant fiancée yells profanities at him.

  “The epidural man! Where in the fuck is the epidural man! God dammit! I feel like I’m going to shit out my asshole!”

  So many things wrong with that latest culmination of crazy statements.

  First of all, Ellen is a nurse, so she knows the person who places the epidural is either an anesthesiologist or nurse anesthetist, who could either be a man or woman—not the epidural man as she now fondly calls him. And the fact that she is screaming about shitting her asshole out just shows you how much pain she is currently in right now. That sounds like something I would say. Natural-delivery Ellen is a chick I’ve never met. This is like Ellen 5.0, and I’m pretty sure I’m terrified of this woman. She’s angry, really fucking angry.

  Trent takes a heavy sigh and looks into Ellen’s eyes.

  Sweet mother of pearl! Look away!

  Don’t look into the eye of the beast!

  She’s possessed and right now she might suck your soul right out of your body!

  “Ellie, baby. Lucy’s head is starting to crown, so I’m sorry to tell you this, but you don’t have time for an epidural.”

  Ellen’s eyes have turned from green to an interesting shade of red. I can see the fumes of fury seeping from
her ears and nose. She’s undeniably pissed, and I immediately cower away as she looks around the room with a cold, hard stare.

  “I’m getting an epidural! I’m getting a fucking epidural if I have to place the god damn thing myself!” She tries to close her legs shut, and she’s now gone from demonic-like rage to complete panic.

  She’s about to lose it…

  “No! No! NO! Trent! You’re a surgeon! What good are you! Either place an epidural in my back or take me back to the OR and knock my ass out! I can’t do this without an epidural!” Tears stream down her face as she starts to have an emotional breakdown.

  “You can do this, Ellen,” Lizzy calmly encourages beside her as she wipes Ellen’s tears from her cheeks.

  “Ellen, don’t lose it now. You’ve got to get it together and push with these contractions and then it will all be over,” I lean down and voice while I’m staring directly into her fearful eyes.

  “Come on, sweetheart. I need you to push with these contractions and then you’ll be able to hold our Lucy in your arms.” Trent’s voice is stern yet affectionate. He’s in full-on physician mode, and I’m curious if he did some sort of OB rotation during his residency.

  Tony and another nurse have now stepped into the room and informed us that the OB staff is tied up with a few deliveries upstairs. Apparently there was a full moon tonight that has caused all sorts of havoc in the world of pregnant women. Now it’s all making sense as to why Ellen is currently in this wild situation.

  “Do you want me to get the ER physician in here, Trent?” Tony asks as he stands off to the side of Trent.

  Obviously, he’s trying to be respectful towards Ellen’s current state of vaginal exposure. She’s got her little muff wide open, flapping in the wind, and I’m happy my best friend still managed to keep that thing groomed. Most pregnant women forget all about keeping things nice and tidy, and believe me, shit starts to look jungle-esque if you let your pubes grow for nine months straight without any sort of maintenance.

  Note to self: Call Marie for a wax appointment.

  What? I can’t help myself. It’s a well-known fact that I take pride in my snatch upkeep, and nothing will have you remembering to schedule your next Brazilian wax like seeing your best friend’s labia spread apart while she grunts out a tiny human.

  “Who’s the ER physician that just came on?” Trent addresses Tony with a quick glance in his direction.

  “Dr. Simon.”

  “Never mind. Looks like I’ll be delivering my own baby tonight.”

  Smart move, Dr. Hamilton. The last thing we need is for good ol’ Bill to be in here yelling sexually explicit comments while Ellen delivers Lucy.

  “Isn’t this somehow against Regency’s ethics policy?” Tony questions, visibly uncomfortable.

  “Do I look like I give a fuck about Regency’s ethics policy? My daughter is going to be born any minute and the last thing I need is some idiot of a doctor screaming about handcuffing his balls while my fiancée is pushing.” Trent is nearly fuming, and I can definitely understand his irritation. He’s not pissed at Tony; he’s just pissed at the mere idea of Dr. Simon being in the same room as his soon-to-be wife while she gives birth. The notion of that is even making me angry. No way in hell does Dr. Simon need to be in this room right now.

  “Understandable,” Tony agrees immediately.

  I get that he had to say something. He’s the charge nurse for the ER tonight, and it’s his responsibility to bring up any type of possible issue. And I would agree that this scenario could bring up some ethical concerns.

  Ellen is pushing her little heart out with each contraction. She dug deep and has found the motivation to deliver her daughter without any sort of pain control. I think she just became my hero. If I were in her shoes, I would still be screaming for the epidural man while concurrently smacking my fiancé across the face. No doubt, this current delivery experience has me questioning the entire idea of having children. Nothing turns off your internal clock like hearing your best friend scream, “My vagina feels like it’s on fire!”

  So that whole ‘ring of fire’ thing they talk about is true. Go figure.

  “Come on, sweetheart. You’re almost there. This is the worst part. Lucy’s head is out, and all I need right now is another push and I’ll be able to get her shoulders out.” Trent remains calm and collected. He still manages to be the picture-perfect physician, despite the fact that it’s his daughter he is delivering.

  Me on the other hand… I am internally freaking the fuck out.

  My best friend has a baby head hanging out of her vagina and I couldn’t be more terrified for her. I’m silently praying that nothing tears and everything goes back the way it started. And of course, I’m praying that Lucy comes out screaming her little head off. I just know that if I were in Ellen’s shoes, I’d be at least a little worried about my vagina becoming an uncanny resemblance to sliced roast beef. Sorry, I can’t help myself, I had to go there.

  Ellen screams loudly as she bears down a final time and Lucy slips out without any difficulty. Her little lips part and loud cries escape her sweet baby lungs. Trent smiles down at his beautiful, dark-haired child as he places her on Ellen’s chest. Seeing him get emotional has me getting emotional. I look across at Lizzy to find her mirroring my current state.

  Happy tears are running down my cheeks and I have to hold myself back from sobbing. I’m just so proud of my Ellen and so joyful for her right now. She somehow managed to find the balls to deliver her baby sans epidural. This woman deserves a medal and maybe even a key to the city. No woman should have to have a natural delivery without willingly wanting it to happen. That is some seriously terrifying shit.

  I watch as Ellen looks down at Lucy and my heart feels like it’s going to burst. Her eyes are filled with emotion and undeniable love. She is completely in love with her beautiful daughter. Lucy stops crying and her eyes open as Ellen coos into her ear. She softly brushes her lips across her daughter’s forehead and tenderly holds her to her chest.

  This has got to be the sweetest thing I’ve ever witnessed in my entire life.

  “I’m so proud of you, Ellen. Congratulations, Momma,” I whisper into her ear.

  She tilts her head towards mine. Her cheek rests gently on Lucy’s forehead. “Thank you,” she mouths to me as tears continue to spill down her cheeks.

  “Oh my god, stop it! I’m going to be ugly girl crying any minute if you keep this up!” I announce with a throat thick from emotion.

  Lizzy wraps her arm around Ellen’s shoulder and I do the same. We’re all huddled around Lucy, who calmly rests on Ellen’s chest. All of us are nearly sobbing in relief, in joy, in ecstatic happiness that our beautiful, perfect little Lucy is finally here.

  “I’m so proud of you, baby. I love you so much.” Trent’s profession of adoration for Ellen has us all bawling our eyes out like babies.

  God, I want this someday.

  I can practically hear my internal clock click on as I watch Trent and Ellen and their beautiful daughter together. My heart is so full for them. I can feel myself starting to yearn for having a family of my own. I’m shocked by the overwhelming feelings and emotions that are coursing through me. I’ve never experienced anything like this before. I just watched someone, who is like a sister to me, bring her daughter into the world… Yes, she might have been out of control and completely crazy during the majority of it, but when she finally had her baby girl in her arms, she looked like the perfect mother.

  I, Amy Jackson, who has spent a lifetime of saying that I would never want children, am actually finding myself changing my entire outlook on life. I’ve changed from the woman who was happy with partying and one-night stands and never having an actual relationship to a woman who thinks she might want more out of life.

  I think I want to allow myself to have a family someday.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “The dam finally bursts.” - Amy

  “Tony, are you ever going to marry
that girl?” I glance slightly to the left of my computer screen to find him not so quietly huffing and puffing in irritation about charting his assessments. Tony is one of my favorite people to work with. He proposed to his fiancée Rachel a long-ass time ago. Ellen and I planned a night of drinking, strip clubs, and pure debauchery. We celebrated Rachel and Tony’s upcoming nuptials in style, but that was almost a year and a half ago. I have a feeling we might to need to have another bachelor/bachelorette party for them if they keep delaying this thing.

  “We pushed the date back so Rachel’s family could be in town from Pittsburgh. Three months and I’ll finally get that girl to say, ‘I do.’” Tony sighs deeply but flashes a small grin my way.

  “That’s awesome! I think we need to have another party for the two of you.” I pat him on the shoulder in excitement. “I’m glad you’re finally going to get that awesome chick to walk down the aisle.”

  “Is it going to be like the last time?” he asks before setting his focus back on the work computer.

  I nod my head as a smirk quirks my lips. “If you mean bars, strip clubs, and lots of alcohol, then yes. It will be exactly like last time.”

  “Hell yeah, count me in! Rachel and I had a kickass time that night,” he adds excitedly.

  I chuckle at Tony’s enthusiasm as I sit down next to him. I busy myself with rummaging through a few patient charts. I ran my ass off tonight. Several patient admissions and even more discharges have kept me occupied over the past eleven hours. The only thing that has made getting through this night tolerable is that Ellen is finally coming back from her maternity leave today. I’ll get to see her smiling face when she comes in for her morning shift. I glance at the clock at see that it’s almost six. One more hour and I’ll get to crawl my exhausted ass into bed.

  “Good morning, doll,” a deep, masculine voice says from above me. I’d know that voice from anywhere. It’s one of my favorite voices.

  I peek up at James through my lashes. He’s dressed in navy blue scrubs that hug his muscular body in a very perfect way. James’s dirty-blond hair is handsomely disheveled and still damp from his morning shower. His eyes are a brilliant shade of green and undeniably intoxicating.