Page 10 of Stone Vows

I strip off my exam gloves and wash my hands, then Debbie gowns and gloves me, having arranged all the instruments next to the bed and the panda warmer in the corner.

There isn’t a birthing bed in the room, so I have Susan scoot to the end of the bed and have Debbie stack pillows behind her. Then I ask Debbie to grab a few more nurses to hold up Susan’s legs.

“Uhhhhhhh,” Susan cries. “I have to push.”

“Okay, Susan, go ahead.”

What happens next is one of the most incredible things in nature. A dark head of matted hair slowly works through her opening. Once the baby’s head is out, it rotates up, and I quickly suction its mouth and then check to make sure the cord isn’t around the neck.

“Susan, one more big push and your baby will be here.”

She grunts as she pushes her legs into the nurses’ hands. I watch as first one shoulder, then another comes through. After that, the baby just slides right out.

“You have a son, Susan!”

The door opens and in walks the OB resident followed by Dr. Neill. They take over for me, cutting the cord just as the baby makes his introductory sound in this world. Susan cries when she hears her son for the first time. After they place him on her chest, she thanks me.

But it’s me who is grateful. I just had one of the best experiences a doctor can have. With all the sickness and death that surrounds us, it’s humbling to be reminded of how wonderful life is. I find myself exhilarated. Pent up. I’m not frustrated or stressed. I’m on cloud nine. I pull out my phone and tap out a text to Gina.

Me: Room 1320 in 15 min.

Joe hands off Susan’s phone to one of the nurses who continues to video the baby’s first moments for the absentee father. Then he asks me, “Is it too late to change my specialty?”

We walk out of the room together. “Pretty fucking great, huh?” I say.

He nods and tries to discreetly wipe some moisture from under his eyes. “Yeah, pretty fucking great.”

Chapter Five

The only exercise I seem to get these days is walking to and from work. It’s two miles one way, a long walk by NYC standards, but the hospital is not in a part of town I’d choose to live in. Every time I can, I skip the subway and hoof it.

Walking home this morning, after watching Susan give birth, I can’t help but think of the pregnant patient I had last week. Elizabeth. I hope she followed up with the clinic. There are so many things that could go wrong if she doesn’t seek proper medical attention when she needs it. Bad things such as pre-eclampsia for her; and for the baby, cerebral palsy, fetal growth restriction, or even hypoxia.

I almost wish her bleeding wouldn’t have stopped. I wish it would have been bad enough for us to keep her in the hospital without endangering their health.

I find myself looking closely at every person walking a dog. I shudder to think she’s still out there being pulled along by a gaggle of furry creatures. She could fall. Hell, even if she didn’t fall, just the simple act of walking could cause her condition to worsen. But if she feels she has no other choice—if she truly has no one and has to pay the rent, she’s more than likely still working.

I see some dogs way up ahead and speed up my stride when I see a blonde head of hair atop a petite frame sporting a sundress on this hot July morning. I follow far behind the woman for a block or two. I suppose it could be her, but I’m not close enough to see.

“Elizabeth!” I call out.

She doesn’t turn around. I think I must be imagining things.

I need sleep. These sixteen-hour shifts can be brutal. But instead of hitting my bed after a shower, I get on my laptop and do an internet search.

Elizabeth Smith, dog walker, New York City.

I stare at what’s in front of me on the screen and laugh. I swear to God, Elizabeth Smith must be the most common name in NYC. Maybe even the whole country. I shut the lid of my laptop. Maybe a little too hard. Then I draw the curtains and throw myself onto my bed.

~ ~ ~

My ringing phone wakes me up.Shit. I forgot to silence it. But the clock on my bedside table tells me I’ve gotten a good eight hours of sleep. I reach over and grab the phone to see my brother calling. “What’s up, Chad?”

“Oh, man, I didn’t mean to wake you, bro. Did you just get off shift?”

“Got off this morning. It’s okay, I needed to get up anyway. I’m back on later tonight.”

“Do you have time to shoot some hoops at the gym?” he asks. “Mal is out with the girls and I’m bored out of my mind. Some of the guys will be there.”

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