Page 10 of Until Waverly

“We’re going to need to clear the room,” Joyce said, glancing around at those who stood inside the space. Relief filled the young girl’s features, as if it was the first time, she’d had a moment’s peace. The boy finally looked up from his phone to his irate mother who sputtered to speak, but Joyce held up her hand, cutting off whatever the nasty woman might have said. “We’re going to need to do an internal.”

Phone Mom scowled. “The other nurse didn’t make us leave.”

I gave the bitch my best saccharine smile and said, “Hospital policy,” backing up Joyce.

Once the room was empty, Joyce exhaled, then faced the girl with a warm, genuine smile while I fixed Lucy’s position on the bed, adding more pillows to her back and hip areas. The immediate relief on her pinched features let me know we’d done the right thing.

“We lied. We’re not going to do an internal. We wanted to give you a small reprieve for a second or two, so I could explain some things. Okay?” I squeezed her hand, giving her a knowing smirk.

Lucy nodded as Joyce sat on the edge of the bed and laid a comforting hand on her lower leg. “Did you know while you’re in the hospital, no matter who is paying the bill, you actually have all the control over what happens in this room and the room you’re moved to after you deliver?”

The confused apprehension of her expression said everything.

“No?”

“If you don’t want someone in here, Lucy, you just need to tell me or anyone who comes in and out of this room, and we can and will have them removed from the room. Like that.” I snapped my fingers to show how quickly I can do that. Joyce nodded, confirming the information. “Let us be the bad guy in this scenario. No one even has to be the wiser.”

“H-How though?” Lucy stammered, and my heart broke a little more for her. In those few seconds I was even more determined to help her.

“Easy. We’ll use a code word. How about if you want to have someone removed, you ask me for pineapple juice? We don’t have it here or in the postpartum room, so asking for it won’t cause any issues.” I made a mental note to reach out to the nurse Lucy would be assigned to upstairs once she delivered. “Can you do that?”

“Yes,” Lucy said.

“Then I’ll clear room, and you can tell me who don’t want to allow back in. Easy peasy,” I assured her. “Do you want any pineapple juice?”

Lucy laughed, and the tightness in her features eased. “I’m good right now.”

I removed myself from behind Joyce at the foot of her bed. “I’ll be in and out of your room with Joyce all night. Or you can press the call button if you have a craving for it.”

“Thank you,” Lucy said.

“My pleasure.”

We finished up what needed to be done and left the young girl’s room, saying nothing to the three people hanging around outside her room. Since none of them spoke to us, we didn’t return the favor to them.

“That was perfect. You read the situation, took charge, and followed through,” Joyce stated as we made our way back to the station. Some nurses were territorial about their charts, but Joyce trusted me and would often allow me to do the patient’s logging. “Make sure you note the conversation and the code word in her folder.”

With a nod, I got to work. I was proud of myself and a little less sleepy. When I was finished recording all the information, I helped the CNAs change bed paddings, hand out ice chips, and assist patients’ moves into comfortable positions, because sooner rather than later the dam would break, and we’d have some babies on our hands.

Chapter3

Waverly

Part of Jackie’s new birth plan was walking, intending to bring her labor back on. She was been doing it for a good hour, and going by the occasional wincing I saw on her face for the last ten minutes, it just might do the trick. She stopped mid-stride right in front of the station, and I glanced at my watch to count out the time of her contractions.

I waited until she walked closer before I stood and grabbed her attention, asking, “How was that one?”

She frowned, shaking her head, frustration filling every bit of her form. “It barely hurt. Why isn’t this working?”

“Remember, it’s not a race. Slow and steady will get the job done.” I squeezed her shoulder before heading off to snag a peanut butter pack from the kitchen to snack on.

I’d been taking advantage of the lull. Lucy was still in the early stage of her labor. Her contractions weren’t consistent though, even though her water broke two hours ago. Dr. Hahn had been called to consult, considering Lucy’s age and the baby measuring at forty weeks and two days. Likely, if nothing changed, she’d be the one heading for a C-section.

Though the full moon had a way of doing the work sometimes labor couldn’t. Bringing on those babies.

As I continued to fill in the charts and watch the monitors on the screens beside us, the gentle hum of my breast pumps blocked out the other sounds around me. Thanks to technology, I could pump whenever I need to because the system I was using had been wireless and Bluetoothed into my phone. If I threw on one of those pullover jackets the hospitals provided for the staff, no one could ever tell I had the containers in my bra. Which I was thankful for because I could keep a steady stock of breast milk for Alandria even on my days off.

The main door to the floor opened, and Joyce strolled in from her dinner break. Once I gave her an update of what’d been going on, including Jackie’s frustration and Dr. Hahn’s assessment for Lucy, I’d be off to take my lunch and perhaps a nap.

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