Chapter 5
Rated M for mature- much, much, much swearing. Well, she's having a baby, you understand.
I don't own it. It just runs through my head until I write it down. Make no money, no sue.
-
Bridget was due to deliver within the week. She felt big as a bus and twice as heavy. She was in Cuddy's office frequently, laying on the couch and being massaged. Cuddy had made herself Bridget's labor coach, which was expected.
After a particularly restless nap, she stood and headed for Diagnostics, figuring she could get some paperwork out of the way. The second she hit the door a wave of pain coursed through her abdomen.
"Shit!" she yelled.
House and the team turned to look at her. Then something even more embarrassing happened, her water broke in the doorway to the lounge.
"Baby alert," House said. "Cameron, page Cuddy. Chase, call OB and let them know she's on the way. Foreman, grab a wheel chair and get your girlfriend to delivery."
The team scrambled.
"What are you going to do?" Bridget gasped.
"Wait for them to do what I told them. And don't think I've forgotten about your little stunt in the pub. You'll pay for that eventually."
"Nice, House," she said.
Foreman moved the wheel chair behind her and she sat.
"Prepare the tri-state area, there's going to be another little House soon," House said, grinning wickedly as Foreman wheeled Bridget away.
-
"Jesus fucking Christ!" Bridget screamed. "Where the fuck is the fucking anesthesiologist?"
Cuddy looked apologetic.
"I'm getting an epidural, right?" Bridget gasped, then screamed.
"Your labor has progressed-"
"If you say any variation of I'm not getting any drugs I'll shoot the fucking doctor!"
"You're almost done," Cuddy said. "Which is strange, because the first time usually takes longer."
"He lied," House said, entering the delivery room. "The first time goes quick, especially if you're in the back of a Chevette."
"Perfect," Bridget groaned. "Just what I fucking need."
"You know you're scaring the other newbs, right?" he asked.
"Are you talking about bitches who have epidurals?" she asked angrily. "'Cause I don't give a ripe shit. Unless you're giving me the fucking drugs."
"Sure," House said, turning to a nurse, "I'll need a bit of the old morphine for her highness here."
"House!" Cuddy yelled.
"You'd deny the mother of your child pain relief?" he said, pretending shock. "You're not the woman I thought you were."
"Morphine?" Cuddy asked.
"Should kill the pain," he said, off-handedly.
"Gimme! Gimme the fucking morphine!" Bridget yelled, took a deep breath and felt the contraction sweep through her like a terrible tide. "I'm never doing this again. Ever. I should… Fuck!" Another contraction.
"Sure thing on those drugs. Dr. Frankland will be in and we'll get you dosed up," House said cheerfully.
Frankland walked in, took one look and said, "Let's get that little bugger out of there. She's crowning, dear. You need to push with the contraction."
House shrugged.
"You're a fucking liar, House!"
"Push now, dear," Frankland said again.
"Fuck off," Bridget yelled and pushed, though she felt ready to tear apart.
"Ring of fire," a nurse commented.
House grinned.
"Look at those shoulders," he said.
Bridget panted and pushed.
"I've got me mitt on, love," Frankland said. "Push that baby out!"
One last, horrible push and Cuddy's daughter issued forth into the world.
"Who's cutting the cord?" Frankland asked.
Cuddy took the scissors.
A few minutes later, cleaning, weighing and APGAR done, Cuddy was holding a little girl in her arms.
"Drugs," Bridget gasped.
House administered the morphine himself. Bridget took a few deep breaths and fell into blissful, painless rest.
"Do you-" Cuddy said, turning to Bridget.
"She's out," House said. "Doped her good."
"Why are you here, House?" Cuddy asked.
"Might not see any other progeny of mine born, thought I'd check it out."
"Right," Cuddy said as the nurse took the baby from her arms.
They both looked at Bridget, asleep in the bed.
"Stop looking at me," she said, not so asleep.
"She's beautiful," Cuddy said.
"I believe you. But could you get out so the nurses can take care of me now?"
Cuddy and House left quickly.
-
Bridget woke up in a different room, with Cuddy leaning over her.
"Lord, Lisa, put the twins away…"
Cuddy put a hand to the top of her blouse, then smiled.
"You did a wonderful job, Bridget."
"I feel like I was hit by a truck."
"Do you want to hold her?" Cuddy asked.
"For a minute."
Cuddy lifted the bundle from the hospital bassinette and placed the baby in Bridget's arms.
"She is pretty, Lisa. Keep her away from the boys," she said, smiling.
"Are you-"
"I'm sure. You've got a girl to raise, Lisa. You'll do a great job. Just let me rest."
Bridget stroked the little girl's head once and offered her back to her mother. Cuddy took her back and held her close.
"Thank you, Bridget."
-
Bridget slept for a day and a half, turning when the nurses came in to adjust her IV and offer her pain killers.
In the moments between waking and sleeping, she tried to eat, but found she had no appetite. She cried occasionally, but wrote it off as hormonal changes and tried not to think about it.
When she started crying every time she woke up, Cuddy called an adoption counselor to sit and chat with Bridget.
"It's just hormones," she said to the counselor. "I'll feel better once I get back to normal."
"You're not sad at all about giving up the baby?"
"I don't know what Cuddy told you-"
"Nothing," the woman said. "She just said you'd given a baby up for adoption and you needed someone to talk to."
Bridget sat in silence for a few moments.
"Not this one, but before, I gave a baby up for adoption. Or… I was going to.
"My boyfriend was driving us home from seeing his parents. We'd just explained to them what was happening. I was about 4 and a half months along, we'd just decided what to do."
She stopped and took a deep breath.
"He didn't want a child, and I didn't want to be a single parent, so I agreed to an adoption.
"We were hit by an oncoming van at an intersection, the baby aborted, I never carried her to term."
She looked at the counselor.
"That's what I'm sad about. I thought having this baby would help me resolve the pain I'd felt after the first baby died. Like I could prove I could do it, that it wasn't my fault or my body's.
"I was deluding myself. I didn't get pregnant then because I wanted to, I was never going to keep the baby, I wasn't meant to be a mother."
The counselor looked at her.
"You can still be a mother, if you decide to."
"But, I just did the same thing, but in a more calculated way. I was inseminated, I carried the baby to term. I looked at her, held her, and I didn't feel a thing."
"You knew from the beginning that you weren't having this baby for yourself. You shut down your feelings for her. Many women who plan to give their babies up for adoption do that, be they surrogates or just women with unplanned pregnancies."
"What if I can't turn the feelings back on?" Bridget whispered.
"I think that's something you need to work on from now until you get it resolved. I brought the card of a good post-partum therapist."
She handed Bridget the card.
"Between us, though, I think you'll work it out. If you give yourself a chance."
Bridget nodded and rolled over in the bed, tears filling her eyes.
-
Foreman showed up as Bridget was being discharged.
"Need a hand?" he asked.
She looked at him, exhausted.
"I'll take one," she said. "Could you grab my bag from the closet?"
He did and placed it on the bed.
"Are you okay?"
Bridget started putting her things in the bag.
"About pushing something the size of a watermelon out a hole the size of a lemon? Or giving the baby to Cuddy?"
He stopped her.
"Either. Both."
She took a deep breath.
"I'm tired and sore, but otherwise physically sound. And as for giving up the baby… She was always Cuddy's. I'm not torn."
"Your ova…"
"Just an egg, Foreman. She wanted a baby. I… assisted. I'm okay with it."
He shook his head.
"There's more to it."
"Stop pushing, Eric."
He was silent, but didn't move.
She didn't look at him.
"There are things you don't know."
"I get that," he said.
Bridget sat down on the edge of the bed, he joined her.
"There was a baby…"
-
Cuddy took 6 weeks off to bond with the baby. Bridget took 4 weeks off at home and 4 weeks of incredibly light duty. She also moved out of House's apartment and into her own.
Once she'd been back to work a couple of weeks, the gossip mill went back into full swing.
"The scoop is," House said, walking into the Diagnostics Lounge, "that I got you pregnant and made you give the baby up to Cuddy."
Bridget looked up from her laptop.
"Like you could force me to do anything," she snorted.
"I'm pretty sure they know it's not true, but they're enjoying the speculation."
"You couldn't force me to give up an Oreo, much less a baby."
Foreman, Chase and Cameron walked in.
"Well, it was fun catching up, but I have an Oracle to save," House said, heading for the children's ward.
"God of War is so 4 years ago," Bridget said to his back as he walked away. "Speaking of which, Foreman, you are aware you look like that guy in that Def Jam game, right?"
"I've heard that," he said, sitting down and pulling his files across the table.
Cameron looked squirrelly and said, "I have billing to do."
"That's what I'm here for," Bridget said.
"I'll do it myself," Cameron said and left.
"Whatever," Bridget breathed.
Chase sat for a moment then hopped up.
"Going to the clinic," he said and headed for the door.
"Right," Foreman said.
"Tell Cameron to keep the love marks below the collar," Bridget said.
Foreman laughed as Chase reddened and bolted for the door.
"So, Saturday night, Greek food and then a hockey game? You in?" he asked.
"Two of my favorite things," she replied, looking over at him.
"Make it three and I'll pay for the entire evening."
"Weren't you going to do that anyway?"
"I might."
"You sure do fish for attention a lot for a such a strong, independent black man."
"You put me off my game," he said.
"You have game?"
"Funny…" he said.
"No, seriously," she said, smiling at him. "You have game?"
Foreman closed the file and moved to the chair next to her. He put a hand on her chair, the other on the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss.
This was not one of the (semi) chaste kisses of the last months. Foreman's hands moved under her arms and pulled her onto his lap, not breaking the contact. His arms enveloped her, keeping her close. Bridget was drawn in, her hands moving from his head to his neck, finally gripping his shoulders as she tried frantically to control herself.
He kissed her like a man dying of thirst who was suddenly invited to a cool, sweet well. His tongue ran along her lower lip before entering her mouth in search of hers. The sensation set fireworks off in her brain, and she moaned a bit into his mouth.
When his hands went to her waist and his lips to her neck, she stopped him. Which was good, as House and Wilson were watching from the other side of the glass. House drank his coffee and smirked, looking incredibly interested and his friend stood there uncomfortably.
'I'm a moron,' she thought belatedly.
"Foreman's got game. You crumpled like a tissue," House said. "And… you can't give Cameron and Chase grief anymore."
House turned to Wilson as they walked away.
"He almost made it to second base… in the damn lounge. I haven't even gotten to second…"
Bridget looked at Foreman. She could feel the heat in his stare.
"Let's not wait for this weekend."