Page 67 of Dubious Match
I’m having a day. My beta mom-to-be is going into labor early.
“It’s okay,” I say soothingly. “Deep breath for me. We’re going to take a trip to the hospital for observation, Katee. You’ve had too much stress, and this is the baby making herself known. I’ll be with you the entire time.”
She’s having a girl, and she’s now thirty-eight weeks pregnant. That wouldn’t typically be an issue to deliver at home at this point, but she’s bleeding more than I’m comfortable with when she’s only two centimeters dilated. Katee’s husband left her two weeks ago, saying that he couldn’t handle being a father, and she’s cried for days about it.
Michael is a little bitch, and frankly, I think she can do better. I’m really pissed off for her. Unfortunately, I’m worried the baby is suffering some distress because movements have decreased over the past two hours.
It’s time to go.
“Okay,” Katee says. “I did this to my baby, didn’t I, Nova? What if…she doesn’t make it?”
“We’re not going to think about that,” I say calmly, grabbing her go bag. I have every one of my clients pack one at thirty two weeks pregnant, just in case. “Tell me your affirmations. It’ll help with that prodromal labor.”
The issue at this point is that her contractions aren’t properly progressing her toward dilation. Instead, the chaos in her mind is keeping her from it.
“As soon as they manage to figure out the bleeding, we’ll strap you into a diaper and start walking,” I promise. Her giggle helps me relax more, and I lock up her cottage before we head toward Bertha.
Her bottom half is wrapped in a towel, so I’m not worried about blood stains on my passenger seat.
“Ow,” she groans as she gets situated.
“Let’s hear them!” I call out as I drop the bag behind me and start the van.
“I…can do anything for thirty seconds,” she rasps.
“Good job, mama. Now count for me,” I insist.
I drive as quickly as I can to the hospital, run inside to get a wheelchair and a nurse, and explain the situation.
“We’ll check her out, monitor, and see where we land,” the nurse says with a nod as she helps Katee into the chair. “Go park your vehicle and the front desk will let you know where she is so you can join her.”
“Thank you,” I say gratefully.
A longer groan accentuates the confirmation, and I grin.
“That sounds better,” I tell Katee. There’s no panic in her voice, just working through the pain. “Hold onto that, and keep the self talk positive.”
The nurse wheels her away as Katee nods, and I jump back into the car to park. As I walk through the lobby and waitingroom, I hear voices that I know. Twisting, I see Felix, Brice, and Remy looking sad and worried.
A part of me wants to know why, but I need to go make sure Katee is settled. I also don’t think that I should pry. They’re my landlords, and I’m their tenant. We aren’t friends.
Sighing, I turn back and walk to the front desk.
“Hi, I’m Nova Roberts, and I’m Katee Miller’s midwife. She was just brought back by a nurse,” I explain.
“Yes! Give me just a minute, and I’ll have someone bring you to her. She’s in a room now and being checked by a doctor,” the nurse says.
The ER is really busy so when she turns back to speak to someone else abruptly, I can’t even fault her. I have both my and Katee’s bags with me, and they’re heavy as I step away to awkwardly wait. I’m really hoping they let me in before Pack Ledger notices me.
My hair is up in a messy bun, my multicolored dress is covered by a heavy patchwork coat that is really warm, and my brown combat boots are worn. I look like a midwife who's been working, basically.
Bouncing on my toes, I wonder if they’ll call the cops on me if I just go back and look for Katee. I feel really antsy being here, as if I’m missing something.
What could it be?
“Nova?”
Shit on a stick.
