Page 115 of Sweet Escape
“Deep breaths, honey. It’s time.”
Olivia
Wilder: Liv’s water broke. Heading to the hospital.
Evie: Keep us updated. We’ll head up there with Emmy when you give us the go ahead.
Pops: Take care of our girl.
Jaxon: Holler if you need anything.
Griffin: Congrats, brother.
An hour after being admitted, a gorgeous curvy redhead in a set of pink scrubs strides into the room. “Good afternoon, Olivia. I’m Cara, I’ll be taking over for Lindsay. Today’s the day?” She wipes the previous nurse’s name from the whiteboard and replaces it with her own.
I wince as a sudden bite of pain radiates through my abdomen. “It would seem so,” I say, breathing through the contraction.
Wilder grasps my hand, squeezing twice to let me know he’s here. I glance up, and the smile on his face nearly steals my breath.
“Alright. At the last check, you were three centimeters dilated, and your contractions are four minutes apart. Everything looks good so far. We’ll continue monitoring your progress. If you experience anything out of the ordinary, hit the call button and someone will be in to check on you. I’m talking swelling, spotty vision, headaches, and extreme pain. If you are concerned at any point, press the button. Nobody knows your body better than you do. Dad, if she’s being stubborn and you’re worried, you can press the button, too.”
I pin him with a narrow-eyed glare. “Undermine me and see how that goes for you, mister.”
Cara laughs. “You two are going to be trouble, aren’t you?”
“Me?” I say. “Never.”
“Call if you need anything at all. I’ll have someone bring in some ice chips. Sound good?”
“Sounds amazing.”
True to her word, a cup of ice chips is delivered a short while later, alongwith a pitcher of water. Wilder takes up the mantle of feeding me the chips with a spoon, alternating with the cup of water and a straw. When one particularly violent contraction seizes me, he’s on his feet in seconds, leaning over the side of the bed to cradle my head while I clamp down on his other hand with as much strength as I can muster.
“Breathe, honey.”
I let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, and some of the pain subsides. “I think the contractions are getting closer together.”
He checks his watch. “Three minutes. Do you want me to press the call button?”
“No, I’m okay.” My head hurts a little bit, but I attribute it to a side effect of inadvertently holding my breath through the contraction.
My progress is slow, but an hour later, I have an epidural in place, and I’m a lot more relaxed than I had been when I could feel every ounce of pain. Now the contractions are barely more than a dull ache and a bit of pressure. We’ve been here for hours. To Wilder’s credit, he’s managed to stay with me the whole time, but I know he’s tired.
I roll my head to the side, reaching for his hand. He’s sitting with his elbows on his knees, as close as he could get to the bed without being on top of it.
“Wilder?”
“Hm?”
“If I shit myself, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”
He chuckles. “My lips are sealed. Whatever happens down there that doesn’t involve our beautiful baby girl entering the world is none of my business.”
“Thank you,” I murmur, my eyes closing as exhaustion threatens to overwhelm me.
When the next contraction wakes me from my brief respite, I know something is terribly wrong. It feels like I’ve peed myself, and when I glance down at the bed, my vision goes spotty.I can just make out a small pool of red between my legs. I frantically reach for the call button, but an unbearable pain radiates through my abdomen, and I can’t quite reach it. “Wilder! Wilder… press the call button. Please!”
Wilder’s panicked voice is a dull hum beneath the pulsing in my head, and everything happens in a blur. I can just make out the muffled voice of Doctor Patel confirming my worst fears. “Her blood pressure is elevated. We suspect a sudden onset of preeclampsia and possible placental abruption. We need to prepare for surgery now!”
