Waiting for Baby

by Cathy McDavid

She conveyed a calm she was far from feeling. Briana was having enough trouble driving as it was. She didn’t need to know her passenger was close to falling apart.

  “What’s happening?” Lilly asked. They’d slowed to a crawl, and she wanted speed. Lots of it.

  “We’re in downtown Payson. It’s packed.” Briana hit the brakes again and uttered a swear word her father wouldn’t want to hear. “Sorry. People are everywhere.”

  Maybe Lilly should have waited for the paramedics. Then, a wailing siren would have cleared the way for them.

  “If you see a police officer, flag him down. He can escort us to the hospital.”

  They didn’t see a police officer, but a mile and fifteen grueling minutes up the road, traffic grew considerably lighter. Not long after, Briana swung the Buick into the hospital parking lot. She drove straight to the emergency room entrance, flung open the car door and began yelling, “Help, help!” before her feet hit the ground.

  Lilly rose up on one elbow and called, “Briana, wait.”

  But she was already halfway to the double glass doors. An unbearable pain forced Lilly onto her back again. A minute later, Briana returned with two nurses.

  “Get a gurney,” the first nurse said to the second after taking one look at Lilly. “Can you sit up, honey?”

  “If you give me a hand.”

  The two nurses, one of them a man, were joined by additional medical staff. Lilly was lifted onto the gurney and pushed inside. They flew past the waiting room where she’d met Jake and the girls the night of Briana’s fender bender and went straight to a treatment room.

  “Wait out here,” the male nurse told Briana.

  Lilly hadn’t realized until then that Briana had come along. “Call your dad for me,” she said over her shoulder.

  Briana nodded, her eyes wide, her lips set in a grim line.

  After that, Lilly forgot about everything except saving her baby.

  JAKE SAT IN THE chair by Lilly’s bed and watched her toss and turn, fighting the effects of the medication she’d been given to help her rest. Even in sleep, her white-knuckled fists clutched the blanket and deep creases appeared on her normally smooth forehead.

  The last three hours had been a nightmare for all of them. Her especially, of course. He’d seen the blood-soaked gym shorts before a nurse put them in a bag, and his stomach twisted into a terrible knot. It must have been many times worse for Lilly. And Briana.

  He glanced over at her, sitting in a chair by the window, and smiled. His little girl impressed him. She’d gotten Lilly safely off the mountain and to the hospital. Quite a feat for someone who fainted at the sight of blood. There would be no punishment for driving without permission. If anything, he might sign the old Buick over to her on her sixteenth birthday.

  “It’s getting late. Why don’t you call your mom for a ride home?”

  She looked up from the magazine she was reading. “I’ll wait for you.”

  All the rooms in the maternity ward were private and comfortable, providing ample room for family and friends.

  “We might be here awhile. Possibly all night.”

  “No problem.” She went back to flipping pages in the magazine.

  “Okay.” Jake didn’t argue, he liked having her with him.

  A few minutes later, Briana stood and stretched. “I’m going to the cafeteria. You want me to bring you back a sandwich?”

  “No, thanks, sweetie. Not right now.” His appetite had deserted him the moment she’d called to tell him about Lilly. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so afraid and so helpless.

  On second thought, he could. The day his sister died.

  Not long after Briana left, Lilly stirred and moaned softly. Jake jerked forward in the chair and took her hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. Her eyes fluttered open, then went wide.

  “The baby—”

  “Is fine for now.” He smiled reassuringly. “You’re both fine.”

  “I only remember bits and pieces after the IV was inserted.” She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. “I was in premature labor, wasn’t I?”

  “Yes, but the doctors stopped it.” Thank goodness. At thirteen weeks early, there was practically no chance of their baby surviving and certainly not without serious problems. “Dr. Paul said she’d be by in a little while to talk to us. You’re to sleep as much as possible and not get out of bed for any reason.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” She curved the hand with the IV needle protectively around her stomach.

  “Are you hungry? I can page a nurse and have someone bring a tray.”

  “Not hungry. I am thirsty, though.”

  “Here.” Jake poured Lilly a glass of ice water from the plastic pitcher on the nightstand beside her bed.

  She took the glass and with his help, raised her head enough to drink from the straw. “Thanks.” She grimaced.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Just a stitch in my side. It’s gone now.”

  Something in her demeanor bothered him, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. She seemed distant and distracted. It could be the medication. Or her exhaustion. More likely, worry. She’d almost lost the baby and probably would have if she’d waited for the paramedics to arrive or traffic had been worse.

  “If you’re hungry, go ahead and eat,” she said, staring out the third-floor window at the late-afternoon sky. Distant mountains against a vivid blue backdrop did little to soften the bleak view of the hospital parking lot with its acres of asphalt and concrete pillars.

  Maybe it was their mood that was so bleak.

  “I’ll wait for you. The nurse told me they could bring two trays.”

  “I’ll be okay myself if you need a break or want to go home.” Lilly didn’t—or wouldn’t—meet his gaze.

  Jake had done much the same when Hailey died. But Lilly hadn’t lost the baby, giving them reason, to Jake’s way of thinking, to comfort each other, not retreat into themselves.

  “Lilly.” He waited for her to look at him. “Please,” he added when she didn’t.

  Finally, she turned her head.

  “You had a close call. But you’re all right now. The doctors stopped your labor, and the baby’s stable.” He nodded at the monitor beside her bed, the one that displayed the baby’s vital signs. “You have to keep believing that everything’s going to work out.”

  “It was awful.” Her voice cracked. “You weren’t there.”

  “No, I wish I had been.” He gripped her fingers fiercely. “But I’m here now, and I’m not leaving this hospital without you.”

  Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I just wish I knew for sure that the baby’s healthy.”

  Jake handed her a tissue from the box on her nightstand. “He is. Dr. Paul did an ultrasound when you came in and said everything was fine.”

  She wiped her damp cheeks. “No, I mean normal.”

  “We could know for sure if you’d have those tests she recommended.”

  “And what if the tests come back with abnormalities?”

  “Then we’ll deal with it.”

  Admittedly Jake didn’t always understand her. She knew he fully supported her decision not to terminate the pregnancy, regardless of any test results. So, why not have them and be better prepared for the outcome, whatever it might be?

  It made perfect sense to him. But then he hadn’t lost two sons and watched a third slowly die.

  “Easy for you to say. You can’t imagine what it’s like to carry a baby that you know is probably not going to live long enough to be born or will die soon after.”

  No, he couldn’t. Nor could he consider asking Lilly to go through it again.

  “I see you’re awake.” Dr. Paul came into the room and stood at the foot of Lilly’s bed to retrieve her chart. “How are you feeling?”

  “All right,” she said.

  “Still cramping?”

  “No, just sore.”

  Dr. Paul returned Lilly’s chart to the bed rail. “Your l
abor’s stopped for now,” she said, studying the monitor screen. “And the baby’s no longer in distress.”

  “For now?” Trust Lilly to key in on those words.

  “First, let me reassure you that premature labor isn’t necessarily connected with birth defects. Women with normal babies can go into premature labor. There are a dozen reasons for it. Our greatest concern is what we can do to prevent it from happening again.”

  She outlined her plan for the remainder of Lilly’s stay in the hospital. At some point, they would take her off the intravenous drug used to impede her contractions and put her on an oral medication. Whether or not she went into labor again would determine further treatment.

  “I’m venturing to say that when you’re sent home, and I feel confident that you will be, you’ll be on strict bed rest.”

  “How strict?” Lilly asked.

  “You can get out of bed to use the bathroom, shower and dress.”

  Lilly gaped at Dr. Paul. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it. Flat on your back as much as possible.”

  “For how long?”

  “Depends on your progress. A week or two. The rest of your pregnancy if necessary.”

  “What about work?”

  “They’re going to have to get by without you for a while.”

  She glanced over at Jake. “I don’t want to lose my job.”

  “You don’t want to lose this baby, either,” Dr. Paul said firmly. “And you will if you don’t take it easy. You had a close call today, Lilly. Your body’s giving you a warning, and you have to listen.”

  “Talk to your boss,” Jake said. “He’s been understanding so far.”

  “He has. But I wasn’t asking for an indefinite leave of absence. The center can’t run for long without an administrator, and he’s too busy with the new one in Apache Junction to oversee both places.”

  “Let’s worry about that later, after your premature labor’s under control.”

  “You’re right,” Lilly said resolutely. “This baby’s the most important thing. I’ll figure something out. Maybe I’m eligible for temporary disability. I can call Social Security.”

  Jake didn’t add that he’d see she had everything she needed and cover any costs her insurance didn’t. They could discuss that another time, when they were alone and Lilly was feeling better.

  Dr. Paul moved beside Lilly’s bed. “Obviously, the longer you carry the baby, the better his or her chances of survival. Which is why you have to remain on strict bed rest. Gravity isn’t your friend. Neither is stress.”

  “What if I go into labor again?”

  “That will depend on how far along you are and if we can stop it with medication.”

  They discussed a few more details about Lilly’s condition, the possibility of depression ensuing from the enforced inactivity and the extreme measures available if bed rest didn’t do the trick. Jake hoped they proved unnecessary.

  “I’m going to give you the name of a counselor,” Dr. Paul went on. “You may find it helpful to talk to someone who’s treated patients in your situation.”

  “What about tests for the baby?” Jake asked. “Are there any we can do?”

  Lilly gasped softly. “Nothing invasive.”

  Dr. Paul considered. “Lilly’s right. Amniocentesis and other, more conclusive tests come with risks. In her present unstable condition, those risks are even greater. To be on the safe side, we can do another ultrasound before she leaves the hospital.”

  After giving Lilly a brief examination, Dr. Paul said, “I have to leave. But I’ll come back early tomorrow before office hours. Try and get some sleep. It’s the best thing for you.”

  “Is there any reason Jake needs to stay?”

  “Only if he wants to.” Dr. Paul paused on her way to the door and addressed Jake. “She’s doing fine for the moment if you want to go home. The nurses will call if you’re needed.”

  “I’d rather stay,” Jake told Lilly once Dr. Paul had left. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d crashed on a hospital waiting-room couch.

  “What about Briana?”

  “I’ll take her home and come back afterward.”

  “You don’t have to keep me company.”

  “I want to.”

  Lilly resumed staring out the window.

  Jake once again had the feeling he was being ignored or dismissed, and he didn’t like it.

  “Mind telling me what’s really wrong?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re acting strange, Lilly.”

  She turned her cheek into the pillow. “It’s been a difficult day. I nearly lost my baby. I’m entitled to act a little strange.”

  “I agree you’ve had an awful day, but I think there’s more to it.”

  “I’m simply exhausted.”

  Jake wondered if he’d been reading more into Lilly’s behavior than was there.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I get pushy sometimes. It’s a bad habit of mine. I’ll leave you alone so you can get some sleep.” He’d travel no farther than the waiting-room couch he’d been thinking about earlier, but Lilly didn’t need to know that. Later, if Briana changed her mind, he’d take her home and then come right back.

  He stood, stretched and leaned over to give Lilly a kiss. She surprised him by opening her eyes. Then she lifted her head and clung to his shirt front.

  “Forgive me,” she said miserably, pulling him close.

  “For what?”

  “Acting prickly and out of sorts. I’m just so scared.”

  “I know, sweetheart. But don’t be. Your labor’s stopped. The baby’s doing well.”

  “What if we go through all this, stop the labor and save the baby, and he’s born with the same birth defects?”

  “It won’t happen.”

  “You don’t know.” Her voice was rough with emotion. “You can’t know. No one can.”

  “I have faith. So should you.”

  “What if I lose you, too?”

  “Impossible.” It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he loved her. Instead, he said, “You’re stuck with me.”

  “That’s what Brad said.” Lilly let go of Jake’s shirt and dropped back onto her pillow. “Only he divorced me.”

  THE DOOR CRACKED open, and Briana poked her head around the corner. “Can I come in?” she asked in a low voice.

  Jake started to answer, then realized he should wait for Lilly.

  “Yes, please,” she said.

  Briana stood by Jake’s chair. “How are you doing?”

  “Better than a few hours ago.”

  “Yeah.” She chuckled nervously. “That was a pretty intense ride. I freaked when the van pulled in front of me.”

  “I want to thank you, Briana,” Lilly said. “You saved my baby’s life, and I can never repay you.”

  “Really. It’s no big deal.” Briana tried to appear unconcerned but Jake knew better. He’d seen her horror-stricken face when he’d arrived at the hospital. Comforted her as she shook from head to toe.

  “It is a big deal,” Lilly continued, “considering you have every reason to resent me and the baby. Somebody else—somebody with a less generous spirit—might have left me to fend for myself.”

  “I don’t resent either of you,” Briana said adamantly, then added in a whisper, “not anymore.”

  Never had Jake loved his oldest daughter more. No wonder Lilly fought so hard to have a child of her own. He wouldn’t trade parenthood for anything.

  “I’m very glad,” she said, also in a whisper. For the first time since Jake had been at the hospital, a faint smile touched her lips. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and if you say no, I’d understand completely.” Her fingers plucked nervously at the sheet.

  “What?” Briana asked.

  “I’m not sure how long I’ll be in the hospital. Another day or two, anyway. Maybe longer. Is there any chance you can help supervise the clients when they’re at the ranch? If you’re busy with sch
ool—”

  “No problem. I’ll help. I like doing it.”

  “Thanks. It’s means a lot to me.”

  “It means a lot to me, too.” Jake took his daughter’s hand and kissed the back of it.

  “Dad.” Briana looked pained. “Don’t go all mushy. It’s embarrassing.”

  “It’s unavoidable. Just wait until you’re a parent.” He coughed abruptly. “On second thought, let’s hold off on that for another ten years, okay? You’re not ready. I’m not ready.”

  His remark earned him a groan.

  “I’m going to check out the gift shop,” Briana said and held out her hand. “Can I have five dollars for another magazine?”

  “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  “Oh, Dad.” She rolled her eyes.

  Jake touched Lilly’s hand. “I’ll only be a minute.”

  “No hurry.” Her eyes had drifted shut.

  Good, he thought, she needed her rest.

  Jake detained Briana just outside Lilly’s hospital room. He left the door partially open in case she called out or the monitors beeped, indicating the baby was in distress.

  “I really appreciate what you did today and what you’re going to do for Lilly.” He pulled her to him. “You’re a great kid.”

  “Maybe not so great.” She withdrew from his hug.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “I’m still mad at you, Dad.”

  “What for?”

  “You made me, Kayla and LeAnne start to like Lilly. And Leanne can’t wait to be a big sister.”

  “Sorry, but I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

  “Yeah? Well, what if Lilly loses the baby? Or it’s born…sick like her other ones? The two of you aren’t the only people who’re going to be hurt and sad.” Her voice caught, and she struggled for control.

  Jake was momentarily stunned. He hadn’t thought of that. He’d been too focused on getting the girls to accept Lilly and a new sibling.

  “Grandma, too,” Briana added. “She’s crocheting baby blankets and stuff.”

  “We have to believe the baby’s going to be fine.”

  “But what if it’s not?” She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I don’t want to lose a little brother or sister, too.”

  “Shh, don’t cry.” Jake kissed the top of her head because he really didn’t know what to say. Maybe Lilly was right not to plan too far ahead. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”