Page 69 of Forever Christmas
The RN charges in. “Let’s get her changed,” she says. “Dr. Jamison is on rounds. He’s going to skip to you in just a second.”
So he is here. I find I don’t feel any more comforted by my own doctor. He’s justa man with a degree. The things that are about to play out cannot be altered by him.
Gavin grips my hand. His face is tense. “I’m sorry, baby,” he says.
I shrug. “He got an extra week over Finn.”
Another contraction arrives. This one is dramatically stronger than anything that came before. “Can I get an epidural now?” I ask.
“Dr. Jamison is on his way,” the RN says.
The two of them lift meup, whisking away wet things and somehow changing the sheets just by moving me around.
I’m only just settled again when the doctor comes in.
“Corabelle, I didn’t expect you here,” he says.
And that’s when Gavin blows. “We TOLD you we had premature labor last time. You SHOULD have done something to prevent this!”
Dr. Jamison nods. “I’m hearing your upset. This is a stressful situation.”
Hechecks the printouts on the baby monitor. “No more terbutaline,” he says, swiping through screens on an iPad. “The baby’s already had a corticosteroid, good.” He comes near the head of the bed. “Corabelle, how is your pain level, do you think you’ll want an epidural?”
I feel like I’m the demon inThe Exorcistturning her head all the way around when I look at him. “Yes, I want an epidural,” Isay, doing my best not to growl the words. I’d prefer, actually, to be knocked out completely. But at least let me not be in pain.
“Contractions aren’t really progressing, but that might change now that the membranes have ruptured,” he says. “I’m going to go ahead and request the anesthesiologist. By the time he can get here, we’ll know more.”
My eye falls on the little icon that shows the baby’sheart beating. I want it to go away, for the monitors to be done, for all this to end.
Hope might be a thing with feathers, but it is a vulture, a monstrosity, dark and feral. I feel it circling but I won’t turn my eye to it at all. My ability to cope is already at its limit.
The last damn thing I need right now is hope.
