The nurse rapidly enters the room and dons her gloves. Hecate's alarm only grows when the nurse utilizes the call button to communicate with other nursing staff. Staff begins to flood into the room as the nurse maintains the position of her hand. With other staff in place the nurse climbs onto the bed. Ada moves out of the room as wheels are unlocked.
"What is happening?" Hecate queries.
The nurse answers in a calm, collected tone, "We are going to wheel you to the OR as a precaution. Your baby is under some added stress, and it is time to offer some assistance. I want you to focus on me. Do not concern yourself with anything else happening around you. Keep your eyes locked on me. Follow instructions, and everything is going to be smooth sailing, okay?"
Hecate nods, despite the panic that has washed over her, as she is abruptly being wheeled down the hall. The physician joins them in the operating theater. He does not instruct the nurse to move, or swap places with her, which Hecate finds most disconcerting. They closely monitor the fetal heart rate monitor as they lock the bed into place. With very little communication a host of staff shifts Hecate onto an operating table. The nurse who remains unfazed moves in a single motion with them.
"I need you to push," the physician instructs.
Hecate obliges. She follows each order as they work diligently to deliver the baby. She keeps her sights locked on the nurse.
"You are going to experience a lot of pain. I need you to push through it. It is imperative that we get your little one delivered now."
Hecate nods in understanding. Her face grows red as she applies her best effort to expelling the contents of her womb. The vein in her forehead pulsates as focuses on the task at hand. The physician delivers a pair of shoulders as the nurse untangles the prolapsed cord from the newborn's neck. The silent infant is immediately whisked away, and surrounded by a team of medical personnel. After what seems like an eternity the room is bathed in furious wails. Several minutes tick by as the infant wails. Soon the nurse returns with the newborn, and places the little one on Hecate's chest.
"Congratulations you have a daughter."
Hecate stares at the tiny infant who is covered in a mixture of vernix, and amniotic fluid. Her face is red as she wails incessantly.
"Well-met," she sighs a breath of relief as she gazes at her brand new daughter.
The tiny little one pauses long enough to try and locate the source of her mother's familiar voice.
The nurse hovers nearby, "I am afraid I must cut this meeting short. We need to take her to the special care unit for assessment."
Hecate is unable to render a response as the infant slips from her grasp. She abruptly begins fading. Her vital signs plummet, and her world fades to utter blackness without warning.
As she sluggishly begins to awaken the first thing she notes is the humming sound of fluorescent lights overhead. As she inhales she notes the smell of disinfectant, and the scent turns her stomach. Her lids are heavy and they prove difficult to separate. As her eyes successfully part the bright lights only compound her splitting headache. Her throat burns as she swallows. She turns her head slightly, and finds Julie Hubble sitting next to her.
"Why are you here?" She chokes out hardly above a whisper.
"Miss Cackles called me asking for reinforcement."
As she scrutinizes Julie's non-verbal communication in an attempt to decipher the severity of the situation she comes to the sudden realization that she can feel nothing below the neck. The room she finds herself in seems claustrophobic, and overly illuminated. Another beat suggests a room temperature reminiscent of an iceberg.
"I can't feel anything."
"The nurse has been buzzed she will be right in. Everything is going to be okay."
"No. Everything has run amuck."
The nurse enters through the portal, and immediately begins assessing Hecate. She obtains vital signs, and performs a comprehensive assessment. When she is finished she washes her hands, and increase the angle of the head of the bed.
"I don't understand what's happening," Hecate struggles to string together intelligible thought.
The nurse squats at the bedside, "I understand how difficult it is to feel like we are not in control of a situation. Fear and anxiety are common reactions. You lack feeling because we were forced to place you under general anesthesia. Shortly after delivering your beautiful daughter you began to hemorrhage, and went into hypovolemic shock. We encountered an unanticipated complication with the placenta, and we were forced to initiate a surgical procedure in order to prevent any further complication. We were successful in our efforts, and we were able to remove the placenta. There was concern that you may experience a rupture of the uterine wall, but fortunately that was not the case. All of your organs remain intact. Your sensation will begin to return soon, and you will find yourself in a great deal of pain when it does. I recommend taking this time to rest."
Hecate takes heed of the pint of blood dangling from an IV pole infusing into her vein. Oxygen claws itself into her nares. Other various medical equipment monitors her heart rate, and rhythm, as well as her pulse oximetry.
"I don't understand…" as she attempts to communicate her throat screams as if she has ingested broken glass.
The nurse quickly swoops in with a cup of ice chips. Hecate readily accepts the tiny chunks of ice that the nurse offers her via a plastic spoon.
"You were taken to the surgical theater to begin with because when your membranes ruptured the baby's umbilical cord prolapsed."
"Where is she?"
"She is currently in the special care unit. She is doing quite swimmingly. Last I checked her vital signs were stable, and your colleague was reading to her."
"When can I see her?"
"Once you are stable we can open up that discussion. I can imagine how badly you want to see her, but it is simply not plausible right now. If you need anything I am just a button away."
Hecate turns her attention to Julie who dutifully sits next to her bed.
"What details has she omitted?"
"That is enough, isn't it? I believe she gave you instruction to rest."