1Title: Too Close For Comfort
Chapter Nine: Three Weeks Early (But in the Nick of Time)
A/N: I want to hear nothing about how inaccurate my hospital speak is. All of my information comes from what I've picked up in various places, including televison, books, movies, and my mother. Just let any inaccuracies go.
Enjoy. Review.
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Thursday, December 25, 2003
11: 50: 41 pm
The first thing I did after my water broke was roll over and groan. My first thought was that the indigestion I'd had all day was really starting to act up, and the kid had jumped on my stupid bladder enough that I'd finally had an accident. At nine and a half months pregnant, I was practically waiting for it.
I threw back my tiny thin sheet I'd been sleeping with since my mother insisted on keeping the house actually warm and looked at the puddle. It looked...different. It was stickier than it should have been...and maybe that wasn't indigestion....
"Mom!" I screamed. I eased myself out of bed and headed for my dresser, pulling out sweatpants and pulling them on. "Mom!" I screamed again, leaving my room for the foyer.
Crap.
"MOM!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, causing the dogs who lived behind us to start barking and Mom to finally come pounding down the stairs, a robe half-heartedly shoved over one hand.
"Oh, God!" she yelled, taking one look at my face. "Grab the bag, grab the bag!" She ran past me, shedding her robe for her coat. She picked up our hospital-ready bag, and then stopped and turned to face me. "Just contractions?"
I shook my head. "My water broke."
"Oh, God," she repeated. "Shoes! We need shoes!"
"Check the stove!" I commanded as she ran past me, our bag still in her hand.
"All right, let's go," she said as she came running back, shoes already slipped on her feet. She shoved my shoes at me and then threw my coat on top of them. I followed as she ran out of the house, and then she commanded me to stay on the porch; she was going to pull the Jeep up to the steps. I calmly locked the door behind us, and then practically threw myself into the Jeep when it pulled up.
Friday, December 26, 2003
12: 12: 36 am
Mom practically shoved me into a seat in the hospital waiting room and threw the bag to me. I sat there calmly and watched as she frenetically ran to the nurses' desk and jumped from foot to foot as if she had to go the bathroom while talking to the nurse.
"Hi, yes, listen, my daughter here is pretty much already going into labor. I mean, she's had minor contractions all day, but then her water broke and now my baby is gonna have her baby right here in the waiting room if we don't get a doctor to see her right now." Mom slapped a hand on the desk, causing the nurse behind it to roll her eyes.
"Have you notified your doctor?"
"No, we haven't. See, it's not my doctor, it's my daughter's doctor, and I've been too busy driving and she's been too busy breathing and trying not to have a baby in my Jeep." Mom laughed, a high-pitched, very freaked out noise. "So listen, just page a freakin' doctor and put my daughter in a wheelchair before I channel Shirley MacLaine in Terms Of Endearment."
The nurse raised her eyebrows and shoved a clipboard at my mom, but she did ask, "What's your daughter's name, and what's her doctor's name?"
"Oh, thank you! My daughter's name is Rory Gilmore, and the doctor is Dr. Robinson. I will go fill these out." Mom lifted the forms to show the nurse, and then practically skipped back to me. "She's paging the doctor," Mom informed me, searching through her purse for a pen.
"I know," I said, my hands spread over my stomach, my breathing deep and regular.
"Won't be long now," Mom practically sing-songed, starting to fill out the forms.
12: 28: 57 am
"This is the life," I sighed, being wheeled down the hallway to the maternity ward. My contractions, which were very sparse but now kinda painful, had subsided for the moment, and I was just sitting in the wheelchair, rolling my way to a bed, where I'd get to lay down. Mom was right next to me, holding my hand; a candy striper was wheeling me along, alarmingly awake for so early in the morning; and Dr. Robinson was waiting for me in the ward.
Of course, I knew it wouldn't last long. Nothing good ever did. And, of course, the second we turned the last corner and saw Dr. Robinson, it felt like my stomach was splitting down the middle. I gasped and doubled over as much as was possible, my hand pressing into the place of the contraction. Mom kneeled down, her hand holding up very well to my squeezing. Dr. Robinson rushed over, kneeled next to me, and placed her hand over mine.
"Hi, Rory," she said, smiling at me. She had a twinkle in her eye, one that always made me feel better. "Whoa, that little one's really moving," she said, her hands starting to roam around my stomach. "We better get the two of you hooked up to some monitors." She stood, and then started walking, waving for us to come with her.
12: 38: 01 am
"Three centimeters," I said in a daze. "Only three centimeters."
"Oh, don't worry, sweetie. Those last seven will go like that." Mom snapped her fingers, but I glared at her.
"I want the baby to come out now," I complained. "Why am I only dilated three centimeters?"
"Well, if I may venture a guess, I'd say your baby doesn't want to leave yet. But, hey–your water broke, your contractions are somewhat strong, so maybe it won't be too long." Dr. Robinson flipped my chart closed and dropped it back in the spot on the end of my bed. She smiled. "At least you went into labor at a good time. This is one of our best rooms. It's a good thing it's not too crowded tonight."
"Yeah, 'cause it's Christmas," I said. I glared at Mom. "This kid's gonna be just like you–ready for Christmas as soon as possible."
"Only if she's normal," Mom said.
"It's not normal into your mid-thirties."
"Hey!" Mom pointed a finger at me. "I am not officially in my mid-thirties 'til I hit thirty-five. And as you know, I won't hit thirty-five til April."
Dr. Robinson, who couldn't be more than thirty herself, smiled and said, "I think I'm going to leave you two alone. Rory, chin up. All we can do now is wait." She left.
Mom patted my head and kissed my forehead. "You heard what she said, kiddo. All we can do is wait. Anything I can do for you 'til it happens?"
I thought, and then nodded. "Get the kid out."
"Other than that."
"Can you go back to the house and get me a few books?"
"Uh...maybe. Anything else?"
I opened my mouth to speak, and then closed it again.
"Come on, hon, you can tell me. Anything at all."
"Jess. Can you call Jess? I...I want him to be here. And he's not." Crap, I thought, as things started getting blurred by my tears. "And I'm such an idiot."
"Oh, sweetie, you're not an idiot," Mom said, leaning in to hug me.
"Yes, I am! I haven't told him yet."
"Oh, Rory," Mom straightened up, "now might be a little late."
"No, Mom, no, it's not too late. Just...go talk to Luke. See if he can get in touch with him."
"Okay, babe." Mom kissed my forehead again. "Be right back."
1: 13: 48 am
As Mom told me later, she left the hospital in Hartford and drove back home to stock-pile some books and CDs for me. On her way back out of town, she was passing by Luke's when she saw a light on in his window. She thought about what I said, and pulled over and climbed out of her car. She, of course, 'cause "she'd never done it before", decided to throw a rock at Luke's window. The first shot landed two feet in front of her. The second shot landed about two feet closer to Luke's. And the third shot, because life is just like that, broke the bottom right pane in his window.
"What the hell?" he yelled, sticking his head out of the window.
"Hi," Mom said sheepishly, waving.
"What is it, Lorelai?"
"Rory," she said simply.
"I'll be right down," he said immediately, and after a second the window was shut and the light was gone. When he burst through the diner door, he locked it behind him, and she immediately said, "What, you're not going to invite me in?"
"Lorelai!" he exclaimed, seeming more than a little panicked. "Where is she? Where's Rory?"
"Oh, she's in the hospital already. Can I have some coffee? I'm practically dead."
"What?" he asked, confused.
"Practically dead," she repeated. "It's quarter after one in the morning, and I swear I was up at five, and then I had to spend time with my parents, and then when I finally thought I was going to sleep, Rory's water broke and I had to rush her to the hospital."
"Well...why are you here?"
"Books and CDs," she said, lifting up one of each and showing him. "Can...can I please come in? I'm seriously dead on my feet."
"Uh, sure, sure. But, are you sure Rory's okay?"
"Oh, yeah, she's great. Plus, I've got her beeper, so if anything super important happens, I'll know."
"All right. Come on in." He opened the diner for her, and, as Mom ended the story, "we had a nice conversation. Oh, and then I asked him about Jess. He hemmed and hawed, and then said he'd try, but last he heard, Jess was in New York somewhere, and Jess' mom was playing the Ren Faire circuit in, like, Michigan or something."
"Well, that's it," I said as Mom finished her story. "I refuse to have this baby without Jess. Hand me the coffee, tape my legs closed, and get me outta here."
"Uh, not so fast, sweets," Mom said, pushing me back down as I started to get out of bed. "There's not much you can do to stop this kid now."
"I can try, can't I?"
"You can," she nodded, "but I wouldn't. Do you really want to stay pregnant?"
I thought for a second, and then shook my head. "But...can you get Luke to keep trying?"
She nodded, slowly. "I'll get Luke to try his hardest."
3: 30: 33 am
"Hi, Rory," Dr. Robinson greeted, walking into my room with a clipboard in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. "How ya doin'?"
"Okay," I told her, setting down my book. "They seem to be subsiding."
"Hmm," she said, setting her things down.
"What?" I asked, suddenly feeling frantic.
"Well, it's just that the contractions shouldn't really be subsiding. They should be getting stronger or closer together. But, don't worry." She shot her trademark smile. "I'm sure it's fine. The little one probably just doesn't want to come out. I'm going to order some more tests, and we'll check and make sure everything's okay."
"Okay. Thanks, Dr. Robinson."
"You're welcome." She scribbled with something on my chart, and then picked up her things and started to leave.
"Wait!" I called. She turned around and smiled, waiting patiently. "Can you find my mom for me? She's probably either passed out on some uncomfortable chair or getting coffee."
"Okay. I'll try." She left, shutting the door softly behind her.
I glanced down at my stomach, imagining my baby angling his- or herself to get ready to leave. I frowned, and said, "You better stay in there till your daddy gets here. If you wait–ooh, he'll be mad."
I nodded, hoping that had done it, and then picked my book back up.
4: 23: 12 am
Mom awoke with a jerk as Dr. Robinson entered the room again. She was carrying my chart, and her expression was a mixture of disbelief and relief.
"Well, nothing's wrong." She smiled. "That's the good news. The bad news seems to be that your baby, no matter how much he or she was ready to be born earlier today, is now ready to stay there for a while." She checked her clipboard. "Like I said before, you're now three and a half centimeters dilated. The fetal monitor shows your contractions are slowing down, and now there's more time between them. All of your vitals are great, all of the baby's vitals are amazing. Everything's fine. It's just...going to go really slowly from here on out."
"And that means..." Mom prompted.
"That means, sleep. Get plenty of rest. You, Ms. Gilmore, can run home and go to work or anything you need to do. I would be very surprised if this baby were born in less than 24 hours."
"Thank you," I said, feeling just a little amazed.
"My pleasure," Dr. Robinson smiled. She nodded, and left.
Mom turned to me, a grim look on her face. "Sorry, babe. You've got some wait ahead of you."
I smiled. "Don't worry, Mom, I'll be fine. Besides, this'll give Luke more time to find Jess."
Mom's eyebrows shot up, but she recovered quickly, and forced a smile and patted my hand.
"Is Luke still here?" I asked. "I haven't seen him in a while."
"Um, yeah," Mom said. "He's passed out in the hallway, I think. I should probably go wake him up. He said something about the bread delivery."
"Okay," I said, nodding. "But remind him about Jess, okay?"
"Of course."
"Hey, you should go, too," I said, noticing the dark circles under her eyes. "Go home, get some real sleep."
"Oh, honey, I don't want to leave you here all alone."
"It's fine," I said. "I've got books, and I can sleep, too."
"Okay," Mom agreed, albeit hesitatingly. Then she smiled and kissed my forehead. "See you later, sweets."
"Bye, Mom."
She grabbed her things and left the room, blowing a kiss before shutting the door. I settled down in the bed and tried to sleep.
8: 59: 45 am
I woke up four hours later, still tired but slightly more refreshed. I stared at the clock above my door for fifteen seconds, and as soon as it was nine, I grabbed the phone from the bedside table and started dialing.
First was my dad. However much I hated him, he was still my dad, and he was going to be a grandfather. Plus, I called him first in hopes that I'd be waking him up.
"Hello?" he asked groggily, answering a split second before the answering machine, but still triggering the machine. "You've reached Christopher..." it proclaimed loudly, causing Dad to mutter mild profanity. "Hold on," he proclaimed, annoyed. I waited patiently until the beep, and then I said, "Dad."
"Rory?" he asked, slightly amazed. "I thought you–"
"Listen, Dad, you're not one of my favorite people right now, but I just thought you should know–I'm having the baby."
Dad stuttered, and then finally forced out, "Now?"
"Yeah," I said. "Come, don't come, I don't care. I'll call you when the baby's born. Bye."
I hung up on him quickly. I still couldn't quite believe that he'd done what he'd done...but he was still my dad. I didn't really want to talk to him, but I felt bad for hanging up.
Oh, well, I thought. I've got too much to worry about to worry about that right now.
I kept calling people.
12: 48: 23 pm
"Wow," Dr. Robinson said, coming into my room. "That's quite a crowd you've got there, Rory."
"Just wait till the presents come," Lane said. She was standing next to me, holding my hand. She'd been standing next to me since right after I'd called her at nine. Since I'd told my mom to stay in town, Lane was my right-hand. She also helped me with all of my visitors–I'd already seen Grandma and Grandpa, Paris and Jamie, Lane's band, Babette and Morey, Miss Patty, Taylor, and Luke.
"Well, Rory, how are those contractions now?"
"Much stronger and closer together," I said, grimacing as another one started. Dr. Robinson checked the fetal monitor and hmm-ed.
"What?" Lane asked, being frantic for me during my contraction.
"Let me check how much you're dilated," Dr. Robinson said by way of response. After a minute, she looked up and nodded. "You are quite the amazing patient, Rory."
"Why?" Lane asked.
"I say you're almost there." Dr. Robinson grinned, and then checked the fetal monitor again. "Actually...call your mom. You're heading into delivery."
"Lane," I gasped, looking at her. She nodded. "I'll get right on that." She dropped my hand and reached for the phone.
Dr. Robinson looked at me. "Can anyone out there go with you into the labor and delivery room?"
I thought about it, and then pointed to Lane. "Basically her, or Mom."
Dr. Robinson nodded. "Okay. When she gets off the phone, we'll get her suited up. When your mom shows up, we'll get her to take your friend's place."
"Okay," I nodded.
"All right. Let's go!" She lifted the sides of my bed and started wheeling me out of the room. Lane caught up with us, and started walking with us to the elevator. Dr. Robinson got some orderlies to help wheel my bed, and then suddenly I saw a vision.
The elevator doors slid open, and Luke was standing there, looking a little worried. Standing slightly behind him, looking pale and scared out of his mind, was Jess.
I thought I was dreaming until I heard Lane say his name.
And that's when I knew it was true.