Georgina took the baby from Decker’s arms and placed her on Rina’s chest. Cradling the infant, Rina watched a little wet mouth bob along her breast until it found the nipple. With a little encouragement, the baby pursed her lips and began to suckle.
Rina closed her eyes again, beads of sweat dotting her brow. At the bedside, Decker dabbed her face with a washcloth. He glanced around the labor room, taking in the surroundings for the first time. The place was papered in a chintz print—some sort of small vining flower. A handloomed rug had been thrown over an institutional tiled floor. The hospital bed was framed in wood, stained to match the wicker of a Sydney Greenstreet chair planted across the room. The homey decor was supposed to give the illusion that the woman was giving birth in her bedroom. But Decker couldn’t block out all the medical machinery standing idle against the wall, the I.V. stand tucked into the left-hand corner.
Definitely a hospital.
He had been there for nineteen hours that had somehow been compressed into minutes. Now time was moving in slomo. The hands of the wall clock showed him only ten minutes had passed since his daughter had been born. The baby was still sucking on Rina’s breast, but her eyes were closed—nursing in her sleep. Pink heart-shaped lips working Mama’s nipple as thread-sized veins pulsed in her temple. Decker knew he was biased, but she was a beautiful baby.
His eyes drifted to Rina’s face. Her lips were pale and parched.
“Can Rina have something to drink?” he asked.
“Not quite yet,” Hendricks said, talking under his mask. Once more he pressed on Rina’s stomach.
“Can she at least suck on some ice?”
This time the doctor didn’t answer. Decker felt a headache coming on. Maybe he was just hungry—ten hours since he’d last eaten. Again Rina went into her Lamaze breathing. Decker held her hand, offered words of encouragement. Before the arrival of the doctor, he’d felt particularly needed. Now he was an appendage—useful but not indispensable. Rina stopped her labored breathing and wearily closed her eyes. Her voice was a whisper.
“I’m very tired.”
“I bet you are,” Hendricks said. “How about we give you a rest? Georgina, put the baby in the incubator and wheel her into Infant Recovery.” He looked at Decker, and smile lines appeared at the corners of his eyes. “You’ve got a beautiful, healthy daughter, folks. She shouldn’t be in Recovery more than an hour or so. Then they’ll move her to the nursery and you’ll be able to show her off to the family.”
“That’d be nice,” said Decker, smiling.
“Grandparents all excited?” Hendricks asked.
“Yeah, they haven’t held a newborn in a while.”
Neither had he, he thought. Nineteen years. My God, it seemed like yesterday since Cindy was born. And then, sometimes, it seemed like a thousand years. Georgina loaded the baby in the incubator. “Be back in a minute.”
Decker nodded, and the room turned quiet. Rina’s eyes were closed, her mouth slightly agape. Decker wanted to tell her how much he loved her, but he didn’t want to disturb her rest. A few minutes later, Georgina returned. She placed a hand on Decker’s shoulder.
“How’re you holding up, Pop?”
“Not too bad for an old guy,” Decker said. “Mom’s resting.”
“Yeah, she needs some peace and quiet.”
Hendricks said, “Georgina, set up a twenty-milligram Pitocin drip, please.”
Anxiously, Decker looked up at the labor nurse. She flashed him a smile of crooked teeth, but the expression wasn’t cheery. Then she liberated the metal stand from the corner and opened a cabinet door. Out came a plastic bottle that hung on a rack. Georgina hooked the I.V. line up to Rina’s left arm, then adjusted some valves. A moment later, Decker saw clear liquid run through plastic tubing. Again the doctor pushed on Rina’s abdomen. A soft moan escaped from her lips as she attempted to control her breathing. But fatigue was taking its toll. She cried out. Decker looked at Hendricks.
“I’m pushing with some pressure,” the OB said calmly. “It doesn’t feel comfortable, but it should help Mom along. Georgina, increase the rate of the drip.”
“Right away, Doctor.”
Decker didn’t like the military cadence in the labor nurse’s voice. It had gone from jocular to professional. He felt his heart race.
“Is everything okay, Doctor?”
“She’s having a bit of trouble expelling the placenta.” Hendricks paused. “I can feel it, but … the Pitocin should help. Does it hurt, honey?”
Again Rina nodded.
“Honey, I need to keep pressing on your uterus. Just keep on with your Lamaze breathing.” He turned to Decker. “Just help her like you did in labor.”
The doctor compressed her stomach wall. Rina’s face contorted with pain.
“Try to breathe, Rina,” Hendricks said.
“I can’t—”
“Breathe, Rina,” Decker said. “Squeeze my hand if it hurts.”
Rina took his hand. Her fingers held no strength, and her complexion had become wan. Hendricks clucked his tongue and shook his head. Decker felt his stomach drop.
“Georgina, get a gurney and see who’s available for OB Anesthesiology,” Hendricks said. “Also, get me point two-five milligrams of Methergine and a BP cuff.”
“What’s going on, Doc?” Decker said.
Hendricks ignored him.
“What’s going on?” Decker repeated.
“In a moment, Peter.”
Decker was silent, his gut a tight, wet knot. His body ached with tension. He forced himself to rotate his head, releasing a symphony of creaks and pops from his neck. Georgina returned, carrying a metal tray with a needle on it. Hendricks took the syringe and injected the medicine into Rina’s shoulder. She didn’t even wince.
“I love you, Rina,” Decker whispered.
A nod was her answer.
A petite woman in scrubs entered the room, a gurney in tow. Hendricks pushed the gurney until it abutted Rina’s bedside.
“I’m going to move you to a delivery room, Rina,” Hendricks said. “At the count of three, I want you to slide your backside onto the gurney. Think you can do that?”
Rina moaned a yes.
On three, Rina raised her body as Hendricks and Georgina lifted her onto cold, brushed metal. Up went the side rails, Georgina locking them into place. The flaps of Rina’s hospital gown had unfolded, exposing her breasts. Decker drew them back together and wiped Rina’s forehead with the washcloth.
“Peter, I want to keep a close eye on Rina until she delivers the afterbirth,” Hendricks said. “It
