Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
The light changed, and I moved with the crowd of pedestrians as if today were just any old Saturday and not one of the biggest days of my life.
“Are you at the hospital? It’s a bit noisy,” Mom commented in my ear.
I adjusted my earbuds and jumped in line. “I’m on a coffee run. After getting two lousy hours of sleep in a hospital room chair, we could use the good stuff.”
“Excellent call,” she agreed.
“Yeah, it’s nice to stretch my legs too, and it’ll give me a chance to make sure we get an appointment for the inspection soon. Like tomorrow would be great. Damn, I need to go home and put safety locks on the doors and—”
“Matthew, the baby won’t require safety locks on doors for quite a few months. And who do you think is going to inspect your house? The pediatrician?” She laughed, clearly amused at the notion.
Whoa. I’d forgotten that we hadn’t told our parents about Xander. We hadn’t even had a chance to discuss it.
“Not exactly. I, um…I have a story for you. Remember the baby we were supposed to adopt last year…”
Okay, this probably wasn’t great timing, but on the other hand, it felt as if my window of opportunity was narrowing. I couldn’t wait any longer.
My mother gasped and put my dad on speakerphone. I had to repeat half of the story in between placing my order and picking it up. I was at the hospital entrance before I finished and let them know where I was.
“Get back to Aaron and Lena, and keep us posted.” Mom sniffled and sighed. “Two babies. Oh, Matt. What a miracle. I’m getting my flight organized now. You need help and—”
“Give them a minute, hon,” Dad cut in, adding, “We couldn’t be any happier for both of you, son. We’ll talk soon.”
I navigated the endless antiseptically sterile corridors and elevators with more bounce in my step. Not so harried, not so panicked. Sure, there was a lot to do, but a little caffeine went a long way.
And we were here, ready for anything.
“…doctor is on the way.” A nurse hurried by me, speed-walking in the general direction of Lena’s room. “She’s at ten and ready to push. It escalated quickly…”
Wait up.
Was that…
I picked up my pace, sloshing coffee onto the biodegradable tray in my hands. I rushed into the room, fear prickling my skin at the sight of Lena’s face drenched in sweat, clutching Aaron’s arm in a viselike grip as she whimpered in agony. A nurse took the coffees and made a quip about not getting her order, but my sense of humor had gone on hiatus.
“What happened?” I unzipped my jacket in a hurry, all elbows and jerky movement.
Aaron met my gaze and offered a strained half smile. “She’s at ten centimeters, and the contractions are coming faster. The nurse says it just happens quickly sometimes. Nothing for a while and then boom, the baby is ready. The doctor is coming…soon, I hope.”
“Okay, good. Uh…what can I do?”
“Ice chips.” Kathy passed me a cup of ice. “A child is entering the world. The chakra must be honored. I want to arrange my crystals and…have a sip of my latte.”
Uh…what?
Lena’s face contorted in pain. She sat forward, white-knuckling it through another contraction. I imagined ice chips were the last thing on her mind. I left the cup on the nearest flat surface and held out my hand.
“Take mine too, Lena. Remember your breathing,” I reminded her.
More whimpering. “It…it hurts. Why did I think I could do this naturally? I can’t. It’s too hard.”
Tears cascaded along Lena’s cheeks, and her lips trembled in an effort not to sob.
Aaron massaged her neck and sang something in Spanish. He was good at comfort, I mused, wincing as Lena dug claws into my forearms, keening as a fresh bout of pain engulfed her.
“Heehee-who-who, hee-hee-who-who. C’mon, Lena, breathe with me,” I urged.
Aaron beamed. “You’re so amazing. So brave, mija.”
Twenty minutes later, Dr. Gwinn finally made an appearance, greeting the room with the kind of casual hello I associated with bumping into old friends at a restaurant. This was life or death, do or die, for fuck’s sake. We didn’t do hellos now.
“She’s in a lot of pain. Can you do something for her?” I asked, my tone sharper than necessary.
“Yes, I can help her give birth to your baby. How does that sound?” Dr. Gwinn pulled on a pair of gloves, arranged a mask over her face, and got to work.
She coaxed Lena to the edge of the bed, spread her legs wide, and examined her cervix. For the record, the fact that words like cervix didn’t squib me out was proof I was in the zone, ready to assist in whatever capacity was needed. However, two new nurses came in to assist and gently shooed me aside.