Waiting
"So, how long will this take?" Martin asked, having backed Dr. Roberts, the OB, against the wall. They had moved Louisa from A and E to the OB floor for monitoring, but Martin was not happy about either the situation or what he was feeling.
Roberts felt intimidated by this man; he'd heard the stories about 'Dr. Ellingham.' He shrugged, saying, "As long as it takes, unless…"
"UNLESS? What does that mean?"
"No need to shout, Dr. Ellingham." Roberts considered the look on the man's face. First time father, and a doctor, and a rather brilliant one at that. But he was a rude bugger. "Look, first baby, but a normal pregnancy, so labor - monitoring - will tell us if labor has started. That will take time. If she's not in labor, not accelerating in the rate, you can take her home."
"And then what?"
"Then when she goes into labor you'll bring your wife back to hospital."
Martin closed his eyes, willing himself to remain calm. You are in control of the situation, the article on stress management had stated. But, no he was not in control; of anything, he realized.
Roberts smiled at Martin. "We haven't lost a father yet," he said in a joking tone. "It's a waiting game."
Martin's eyes snapped open. "It's not the father that I am worried about," he said savagely. In the room around the corner they were getting the monitoring instruments set up, and having this discussion with the OB, and being away from Louisa, was tearing him apart. He needed to be with her. It was a pull from a magnet.
"Not to worry, Dr. Ellingham," Roberts added.
Martin opened his mouth but then closed it. He'd read the articles and the textbooks and was well aware, and he knew that Roberts did as well, the risks of labor and delivery in a woman in her later thirties.
"I know what you are thinking," Roberts told him. "What if? Yes, at thirty-seven Mrs. Ellingham is an elderly primigravida, but she has had an extremely normal pregnancy."
"None of which is indicative of any emergencies which may arise."
Roberts stared at him. "You are worried."
Martin sighed.
"I was too when my wife had our kids."
Martin left Roberts and went back to the monitoring room. Green walls, beige curtains across the door, which was propped open, two nurses were attending to Louisa. The IV pole and bag from A and E was still attached to the needle in her hand. They put twin Doppler belts strapped around her bare belly, then pulled a sheet over her abdomen for modesty. One nurse then activated the monitor. She turned a few knobs and then the screen lit up, showing a moving green plot of contractile muscle activity and a second trace showing a rapid heartbeat.
Martin swallowed hard. "There's the heartbeat," he whispered.
The nurse also attached the EEG leads from Louisa to a second monitor and now she was 'on the air' as they used to say in surgery.
"Blood ox?" Martin asked with a dry mouth, wondering about her oxygen levels.
The nurse turned to him. "Just started," she said.
Martin squeezed past her to examine the machine. The EEG readings were normal, and her system was very well oxygenated. Very important for her and the baby. No, he stopped himself. Not the baby, but their baby. He glanced at the fetal heartrate; it was going like a racehorse. Fast but steady.
Louisa was biting her lip, craning her neck to see the screen. "Um, how are we doing?" she asked.
One nurse smiled and left the room, as the other nurse turned to Louisa. "You and your baby are doing just fine."
"I see," Louisa replied, in a tone of insecurity.
"No, really." the nurse said brightly. "Now, can I get your something? How about orange juice? Apple juice? Or tea?"
"Orange." Then Louisa grunted for she felt another contraction. "One's starting. Contraction…"
Martin's eyes were flipping from Louisa's face to the monitor. Yes, that was a contraction. He'd only been on the OB service for a month in training, but he knew the medical technology and the signs.
Louisa ground her teeth. "Ohhh…" She relaxed after a minute or so. "It… stopped."
The nurse looked at Martin, then put a chair behind him. The dad looked alarmed, she thought, but he sat, and then examined his watch. "Can I get you anything?" the nurse asked him. "Coffee?"
"I don't drink hospital coffee," he snapped.
The nurse bent down by his ear and whispered, "We have done this before."
He snapped back, "But she hasn't."
"Sorry." The nurse straightened up. "Mrs. Ellingham the call button is here, clipped to your pillow. I'll see about that juice."
Martin stirred. "Water for me."
After the curtain stopped swaying after the nurse's exit, Louisa sighed. "Sorry Martin," she told him. "I really am."
"For? I ought to apologize."
"Well if I'd eaten a proper breakfast I'd not have fainted."
He nodded. "Right."
She bit her lip. "So, husband, what are you sorry for?"
"This," he waved his hands. "Getting you pregnant."
"Martin," she lifted her arms. "Come here."
He stood up then hesitantly moved to the bedside.
"Closer."
He bent down and she got an arm around his waist. "Now you listen to me, Martin Ellingham, there is NO other man on Earth I want to be having a baby with. Got it?" She smiled. "Give us a kiss."
He did so, and her heart monitor sped up. He withdrew his lips from her soft ones. "Better not, hm, too much of that. Might not be a good idea."
Louisa stiffened. "Another contraction."
Martin glanced at his watch. Hm. Three minutes since the last one. She was in labor; there was no doubt.
Louisa was grunting. "Hard… that was harder than the last one."
Martin touched her belly and could tell it was tight as a drum. He was fumbling to find the call button, when Louisa's head fell back on the pillow, now gasping for air.
"God, that was a hard one…" she said softly. Then she looked down. "I wet myself."
The bed clothes draped over her legs were totally soaked. "Louisa," Martin said calmly, "your water has broken."
Louisa realized that things were not in her control – not at all. "Oh. Okay."
Martin left to inform the nurse that there was a new development.
Roberts appeared in a minute, along with Martin and two nurses. "So, Mrs. Ellingham…"
"Her waters have broken," Martin said curtly.
Roberts said, "I can see that." He nodded to the nurses, who started to strip away the wet sheets. "I'll just have a little look see." He gloved up and did an exam. "Ah." He binned the gloves then looked at the monitor. "Well, it seems that you were only two centimeters in A and E but are now six."
"Precipitous delivery," Martin muttered.
Roberts cleared his throat. "Mrs. Ellingham are you aware of rapid labor in your family history? Your mum or a sister, or your grandmothers?"
Louisa shook her head. "No. So, what's gonna happen?" She asked and then felt a huge contraction which went on and on. She had to start panting, and things were moving down there, something was definitely moving. The baby was moving.
Martin was pushed aside by the nurse. "Mrs. Ellingham? How hard is it? On a scale of one to ten?"
"Oh God, I don't know!" Louisa moaned. "A ten; n, A FIFTY!" she managed to say after drawing a breath and then her belly and back were still like fire. She wanted to scream. "Martin! Help!" Tears were pouring down her face and she felt sweaty all over.
Roberts recoiled. "Damn. Get delivery ready." He stared at Martin. "You can come."
"To?"
"Well, don't you want to be with your wife when your child is born?"
"I… don't really know…" Martin stammered. He looked at Louisa, saw her whole body relax and then she waved to him, asking him to approach her. At her bedside he examined with visually. Tears, sweat, her mouth hung open while she drew deep breaths. Her hand grabbed his sleeve.
"Martin, you'll be there?" she asked. "In the…" she tossed her head. "With me?"
"Um, yes," he replied.
Her hand moved to his. "Don't you run off," she told him.