Chapter 4-Righteous
Elliot steps into Olivia's hospital room to see her using her spoon to scrape the bottom of a jello cup. She looks up, surprised to see him. "What are you doing here?"
"Why didn't you call me?"
"Why would I call you, Elliot. You-"
"If you say I don't want to be involved one more time."
"Am I lying?"
"Olivia, I'm sorry I said that to you. It's not what I meant."
"What exactly did you mean then?"
"I meant I can't be this baby's father."
"Then why are you here?"
"Because I still care. About you and the baby."
When she doesn't say anything, he takes a seat in one of the visitor's chairs and gets comfortable. "So, what happened?"
"My water broke."
"While you were…"
"No, Idiot," she rolls her eyes. "I wasn't feeling well so I canceled with Justin. I woke up at about four this morning to use the bathroom and my water broke while I was walking towards it. I called 911 and the ambulance brought me here."
"But you're early. How many weeks are you?"
"Twenty-seven. They managed to stop the contractions, but there was a point that they thought I was going to deliver so they gave me steroids to develop the baby's lungs."
"So what's the plan?"
"I'm on bedrest for the next thirteen weeks."
"Wow."
"Yea, I'm going to go insane."
"Do they think you can last that long without the baby coming?"
"No, but we're being optimistic. The longer he stays in the better."
"Don't worry. It won't be so bad. Kathy was on bed rest with the twins. I was the one that was going to go insane."
Olivia smiles. "How come?"
"She was hormonal and pregnant. With twins. Between the mood swings, the cravings, the girls and work…I don't know how we made it. But we did make it, and that's all that's important. He glances at the TV."
"So what are we watching?"
"Have you ever heard of a show called Catfish?"
xXx
Elliot walks the halls of the New York Presbyterian's labor and delivery ward. His bag of loot in one hand and a Styrofoam cup holder in the other. He nods and says hello to various nurses and staff, all of which he's come to know on a first name basis within the past two weeks.
"What are you smuggling in today, Elliot?" A nurse, Anthea, questions him. Olivia likes her the most.
He pulls out a cup from Starbucks and hands it to her. "Carmel-vanilla nonfat latte. Extra foam. Three pumps of sugar."
"Bless you," she says as she takes the cup from him.
Anthea is the nurse that's more concerned with her patient's overall well-being than with the rules. She looks the other way when Olivia has too many visitors or if he stays past visiting hours. She pretends not to notice when Elliot sneaks in goodies to Olivia and he stops to grab her favorite latte as his thanks.
"How's she been today?"
"Tired. She was sleeping when I checked on her last. Don't wake her. She needs her rest."
"I won't. I promise."
Elliot continues down the hall towards Olivia's room. He's made it a point to visit her every day since she has been admitted. Sometimes twice a day if he could manage. Sure,) he has missed dinner every night this week, but he told Kathy that they were working a tough case, and it was a lie that she accepted without issue. He wasn't sure what he was going to tell her next week(,) because it was rare for a case to go on for this long, but he'd figure something out. Maybe meet Olivia for more lunches instead of dinners. Although, he enjoyed his dinners with Olivia because he rarely had to leave until he was ready. He'd grab take out from her favorite restaurants and they'd sit and watch bad TV and talk. They talk now like they did in the beginning and as much as it makes him happy to be spending this time with her, it also saddens him now that he realizes there's so much she doesn't tell him and it makes him wonder:
When exactly did she stop telling him things?
It wasn't when she got pregnant. Maybe around Gaetano? When it first dawned on him that they were too close and she left him shortly after that. Twice. The more she tells him the more he realizes what he's missed. Though he realizes that they're on borrowed time so he tries to make up for what he's missed so far. Tonight he carries Greek food and a half a dozen cupcakes from Georgetown Cupcakes. Olivia's pregnancy cravings have manifested in the form of a sweet tooth, specifically cupcakes. He's decided to have fun with it and bring her cupcakes from different bakeries throughout the city, but Georgetown is her favorite. Specifically the chocolate lava fudge and two of the six cupcakes secured in the pink box in the white paper bag he carries in his hand are such. He prefers Magnolia's, but he's not the one gestating a human.
He enters her room and quietly closes the door behind him. "Liv," he whispers unable to resist waking her. He can't wait to see her face when she sees what he's brought her. She doesn't answer, but continues to breathe deep and even. She sleeps on her left side clutching a pillow close to her, Her hand resting over their baby.
He brushes her hair away from her face and when he pulls back his hand it is covered in sweat. He pulls away her blanket to find her gown is nearly drenched. "Olivia," he calls more forcefully. "Olivia!"
She groans. "Elliot?"
"Yea, it's me. Are you ok?"
She groans again then gasps in pain. "No…something's…wrong," she gasps again. "Get the doctor. Hurry."
He runs to the door and throws it open. "I need some help in here!" he yells down the hall. He rushes back to her side and takes her hand in his. "Liv, hold on, they're coming."
Anthea is the first to arrive. "What's going on?"
"I don't know. When I came in she was drenched in sweat and in pain."
"Ok, Olivia where's the pain?" Anthea asks as she takes note of Olivia's elevated vital signs on the monitor. Anthea fits Olivia's arm in a blood pressure cuff while another drags a thermometer across her forehead.
"102," the other nurse announces.
"Take over here," Anthea commands. "Where's the pain, Olivia?" Anthea asks.
"My back. I think I'm having contractions. There's also a lot of pressure."
"Pressure where?"
"Down there."
"Ok. Someone page Dr. Sharobeem!" Anthea calls down the hall.
"My doctor's here?" Olivia asks.
"Yes, one of her other patients just delivered an hour ago. She's probably still in the building somewhere. Now I'm going to check you," Anthea says as she slowly parts Olivia's legs with a gloved hand.
"Did I hear someone call my name?" Dr. Sharobeem appears dressed in peach scrubs. Her dark hair pulled into a neat ponytail. "What's going on(,) Anthea?"
Anthea looks at her with serious eyes. "I can feel the head."
"Gown and glove me, and let's get ready for delivery. Somebody page PEDS!"
There's a flurry of movement as more nurses rush into the room and begin making the necessary adjustments for delivery. The doctor is draped in a blue gown, mask, and gloves after quickly washing her hands. She takes a seat at the end of Olivia's bed after the end has as the foot of the bed has been dropped. The nurses turn her into the proper position for birth by rolling her onto her back and placing her feet up in stirrups.
"What's going on?" Olivia asks as Anthea fits her with an oxygen mask.
"The baby is coming now."
"What? No! It's too soon. It's too soon! You have to do something," she begs her doctor.
"Olivia, it looks like you may have developed an infection and the baby is now in the birth canal." Dr. Sharobeem says from below. "The safest way forward for both of you is delivery. I know you're scared, but we have everything ready and we're going to take good care of you and your baby."
"But, it's too soon," Olivia cries.
"You staying or you going?" Anthea asks Elliot.
"Staying," he says without hesitation. He will not leave her. Not when she needs him the most.
"Then hold her hand," Anthea commands.
Elliot takes Olivia's hand in his and she squeezes it tightly, but he knows it's not the pain that is causing the death grip on his hand, it's the fear.
"Ok Olivia. Big push!" Dr. Sharobeem says from below.
Olivia bears down with what little strength she has and pushes with all her might.
"Harder!" Dr. Sharobeem shouts. Behind her another doctor enters followed by an incubator. Then nurses immediately dress him in sterile attire.
"C'mon Liv, you can do this," Elliot coaches from beside her.
"I can't," she pants. For some reason her body feels drained and despite her greatest efforts she cannot seem to muster up the energy she so desperately needs in this moment.
"Yes, you can," Elliot tells her and locks eyes with her. "You have to. For our son."
She's not sure where it comes from, but somehow she manages to summon more strength than she thought imaginable and pushes with everything she has left. She pushes past the pain, past her fear, past the anguish and does it for her baby.
For their son.
There's a relief from the pressure and the pain subsides. She opens her eyes to see her doctor hand the tiny blue babe over to the other doctor and he carries him over to the warming station and begins to work. Nurses rub the baby vigorously as the doctor tries to listen to the baby's lungs.
"Why isn't he crying?" Olivia asks. "Elliot, why isn't he crying?"
"Let's intubate him," the doctor says.
In a manner of seconds he has the tube down the baby's throat and is pumping oxygen into his tiny lungs. He transfers him into the incubator and wheels him off to another floor.
"Wait, I didn't get to see him," Olivia protests to his retreating form.
"They need to work on him," Anthea explains soothingly. "They'll be back to inform you on his condition once they know everything that's going on with him."
"But I didn't get to see him," she whispers as tears fall unchecked down her face.
xXx
Elliot walks down the hall towards Olivia's new room. At least he hopes. The numbers seem to be going in the right direction. She's now stationed on the post-partum floor. It's been two days since she gave birth and two days since he's been here. He didn't know what to say or do. He wanted to be there for her when she needed him, but since the baby was born he figured it was time that he distanced himself and start living the life he has chosen to live. A life where he never slept with Olivia, and he wasn't the father of her baby.
"Can I help you?" A nurse walking down the hallway asks. She is an older woman with kind green eyes.
"Yes, I'm looking for room 428. I'm here to visit Olivia Benson."
"Oh, that's my patient. She's not really up for visitors. A few of her work colleagues stopped by and she refused to see them."
"She'll see me," Elliot assured her.
"Are you Elliot Stabler? I talked to her nurse, Anthea, up in L&D and she mentioned you by name."
"Yea, that's me."
"Hi, I'm Nancy."
"Nice to meet you. How's she doing?"
"Physically she's recovering well. She completed her last round of antibiotics this morning, but emotionally…Have you heard of postpartum depression, Mr. Stabler?"
"Yes, you think Olivia has that?"
"I'm not a psychiatrist so I can't be sure, but I've been at this a long time."
"What makes you think she's depressed?"
"Well, she's not eating. She lays in the dark all day. She refuses to have visitors, but what concerns me the most is she doesn't want to see the baby."
"She hasn't seen him?" he asks incredulously. Shocked. It's been two days.
"No. The doctor has come to talk to her several times to update her on his condition, but he's not sure she heard anything he's said. She hasn't even given him a name and shows no interest in doing so."
"Where's the baby?"
"He's in the NICU. Third floor."
"Can you bring me a wheelchair and leave it by her door."
The nurse smiles knowingly. "Sure."
Elliot continues down the hall and knocks before entering the darkened room. "Liv?" he calls into the darkness. When there is no response he walks over to the window and raises the shades.
"The hell!" she swears when she is blinded by the sunlight of a bright summer day.
"It's time for you to get up," Elliot tells her. He places the bouquet of peach roses and the grey husky beanie baby he brought by her bed.
"Why are you here?" she asks, her voice devoid of emotion.
"I came to see how you're doing."
"I'm fine. You can go now."
"Not so fast. Your nurse told me you hadn't seen the baby yet."
"And? Why do you care? It's not like you give a shit about him anyway."
"You're right I'm a shit dad, which is why he needs you to be the amazing mother I know you can be."
"He deserves better," she mumbles.
"What?"
"He deserves better!" she yells. "He deserves better than either one of us. A father that doesn't want him. A mother that couldn't even carry him to term. He deserves better."
"Olivia, what happened wasn't your fault. Sometimes these things just happen."
"Did you know he caught my infection? He's septic now because of me. He has jaundice. Difficulty breathing. Apparently, the steroids did nothing because they still had to intubate him. He has a mild brain bleed. He can't regulate his own body temperature. They had to give him an NG tube because he's not strong enough to feed on his own. They have to give him donor breastmilk because mine is shot to hell because of the antibiotics. The one thing I could still do for him and I can't even do that!"
"Alright get up."
"What?"
"Up! You're not going to just lay here feeling sorry for yourself."
"Jesus, Elliot, just leave me alone." Elliot throws back her covers and scoops her up in one fluid motion. "Elliot what the hell!" He deposits her in the wheelchair Nancy left for him outside her door. "That hurt," she grimaces.
"Sorry," he mumbles then turns around to grab her blanket. He takes it and drapes it over her lap and adjusts it so that it's covering her legs.
"Where are you taking me?" she asks.
"To see your son."
They enter the NICU and Elliot helps her wash up and put on a yellow gown before doing the same for himself. They follow the NICU nurse to the incubator where their son sleeps.
"Here he is," the nurse smiles and turns to see Olivia swipe away her tears.
"He looks so tiny," Olivia whispers. "How much does he weigh?"
"Three pounds even. He's down about two ounces from when he was born, but it's normal for babies to lose a bit of weight a few days after birth."
"How long is he?" Elliot asks.
"Sixteen inches."
"Wow. He's really tiny."
"Is he in any pain?" Olivia asks.
"I know it looks really bad, but he's actually doing really well. The lights are for his jaundice, which is clearing up and we were able to extubate him this morning. He's on CPAP now, which we're using to treat his RDS. "
"RDS?"
"Respiratory distress syndrome. He's not producing enough surfactant, which is a kind of lubricant for the lungs. So the CPAP is helping him expand his lungs." Olivia nods in understanding. "He's done very well on the antibiotics."
"But is he in any pain?"
"Not that we can tell."
"What about his body temperature?"
"He's still having a hard time with that, but we're helping him along. The incubator is helping to keep him warm."
"Can I touch him?"
"Of course!" the nurse says and opens the small window. Olivia carefully stretches her hand inside and touches hair covered skin.
"I brought him a stuffed animal. Can I put it in there?" Elliot asks.
"Not right now, but you can leave it on top and I'll make sure it stays with him until he leaves." Elliot nods and places the stuffed dog on top of the incubator. "Does he have a name yet?" The nurse asks.
"Yea," Olivia answers. "Jacob Isaac Idris Benson."
"Idris?" Elliot asks incredulously. "As in the black man that every woman has the hots for?"
"It's Arabic for Righteous."
The nurse writes the name down. "Great name. I have to do my rounds, but please let me know if you need anything."
She heads over to another couple, leaving them to their own devices. Olivia continues to gently stroke the baby's arm. "Hey, Peanut," she croons softly. "I'm your mom."