Chapter 45
Chapter forty-five
“How are you doing, baby?”
We’ve been at the hospital for two hours now.
Isabelle was already five centimetres dilated when we came in.
She’d been having back pain since she woke up this morning, but didn’t think much of it.
I hate knowing she was in any form of pain.
Even now, as she grips my hand, she declines any pain relief.
“It feels like a knife is stabbing me in the back.” Isabelle’s jaw is clenched tight as she focuses on breathing.
“Is that right?” I ask Shanna, the nurse who’s been with us since we made it to the birth centre.
“Not to worry.” She smiles. “A lot of women will feel contractions in their back.”
I rest my forehead against our clasped hands, overwhelmed by the onrush of emotions.
Endlessly thankful for every step I’ve made that got me here today.
I shudder to think of what I could have missed out on if I had never given myself—given Isabelle—a chance to see what life was capable of.
Mistakes become lessons learned. Failure becomes discovering your resilience.
Resentment becomes seeing beauty in the journey.
Isabelle gasps, forcing my eyes back on her. I rub a palm over her hair. “Are you sure you don’t want something for the pain?”
She shakes her head. “No, I want to try as much as I can myself.”
The limits in which this woman astounds me have no end. How does this vibrant, uplifting person continue to find strength and perseverance in everything she does?
“If that changes, you just say the word. Okay, baby?”
Isabelle smiles and gives a little nod.
Shanna picks up the chart from the holder at the end of the bed, then strolls over to the screen, jotting down the numbers on the display. She watches as they go up and down, her gaze shifting to Isabelle every now and then.
My tongue flicks over my lip ring as my throat grows thick with unease.
“Is everything okay?” There’s no hiding the panic in my question.
The nurse turns unhurried, a neutral expression on her face.
“Yep. I’m just going to see how far along you’ve dilated.
We normally wouldn’t check this frequently, but since Isabelle was already quite far along when you came in, and labouring throughout the day, we don’t want to underestimate the speed you’re progressing at. ”
She grabs some gloves and then stands at the foot of the bed, lifting Isabelle’s hospital gown to her knees.
“You’re about seven centimetres, so we’re definitely keeping momentum. I’m going to check in with Dr Reeves, but I’ll be back shortly. Just keep doing what you’re doing, okay, Isabelle?” Izzy nods, then Shanna looks at me. “Let me know if anything changes.”
I nod, then she discards her gloves and picks up Isabelle’s chart, watching the heart rate monitor once more. She scribbles down more notes and leaves the room with a tight-lipped smile.
“Gage?” Isabelle whimpers.
I’m out of my seat immediately. “What? What’s wrong?”
Her free hand reaches for the frame on the other side of the bed, squeezing her fingers around it. “I want to stand.”
“Stand?”
She nods as she attempts to pull herself up. I place my palm behind her back, heart in my throat as she slides off the bed.
“Should I call the nurse back?” I ask as I shift all the cords from her monitors out of the way.
“No. I can do it. I just need to stand.” She squeezes my hand as she finds her feet, then turns, crossing her arms over the mattress and leaning her head down.
I lean down next to her, one hand rubbing her back gently while the other tangles with her fingers.
“What do you need me to do?” I whisper.
She turns her head to me. Her cheeks are flushed, sweat beads over her temples, but she smiles. “Just keep doing that.”
I kiss her hair, where little white flowers are still woven through a braid that reaches into the curls at the back.
The vision of her in her wedding dress earlier will forever be seared into my brain.
The sheer lace sleeves that flared out from her elbows.
The cream tulle that fell gracefully over her bump.
When I saw her at the end of the aisle I had to stop myself from running over.
Caleb whispered in my ear to wait and let the memory of Isabelle walking towards me be a connection, an eternal reminder, of how far I’d come in the last year.
Of how deserving I was of the happiness and security her love offered.
My hand keeps moving in soothing circles over Isabelle as she pushes her hips back and groans through gritted teeth.
“You’re doing so good, baby. I’m so proud of you.” I bring her hand to my lips, kissing over her knuckles and down her wrists.
“Can you get me a washcloth?” she mutters, head against the mattress.
I stand up quickly, running to the attached bathroom. Where the fuck is a washcloth? I run back, frantic as my eyes search the room.
“In my bag.” Isabelle groans.
My eyes go to the table in the corner, the shelves lining one wall, by the door. There’s no bag.
“Fuck. Mason and Beth still have it.”
“I need it, Grim.” My wife sounds tired as she begs me, and I’m desperate to take the discomfort away. Fumbling for my phone, I reach into my pocket and pull up Mason’s number.
“Is she here?” he answers, practically shouting through the speaker.
“No. Have you got Izzy’s bag?”
“Yeah. I’m in the waiting room with everyone else.”
“Can you bring it? We’re just down the hall. I’ll come stand out the door.”
“Yep, I’m on my way.” Mason hangs up, and I race over to the door.
Straight away, I’m greeted by the sight of Mason and Beth power walking down the hallway, each tugging on a strap of Isabelle’s bag.
“He told me to do it!” Mason argues, yanking the bag to his chest.
“She’s my best friend!” Beth hauls the bag back to herself.
Mason curls his lip. “He’s my brother!”
Beth stops, staring up at him, dropping the handle. “He’s my brother too, you idiot.”
“Hey!” I hiss at them. “You’re both idiots. My wife needs her bag. Now give it to me.”
Beth snatches the bag while Mason’s defences are down, sprinting the rest of the distance and pressing it against my chest. She looks over my shoulder into the room. “How’s she doing?”
I look behind me, and Isabelle’s still leaning over the bed. “She’s doing okay. She’s seven centimetres already, so we might not be waiting much longer.”
Beth presses both hands to her cheeks, eyes brimming with tears. “I can’t believe I’m going to be an aunty.”
“You guys need anything else?” Mason asks, wrapping an arm around Beth’s shoulders.
“No.” I shake my head. “Can you update everyone? Is everyone still here?”
“Of course.” Mason slaps the back of his hand against my chest. “We’re not leaving until she’s here. We chucked some spare clothes for you in the bag, too.”
I drop the bag and pull them both into me. Our heads drop together, and I welcome the weight of my siblings’ hands on my back as it settles me.
“Thanks,” I say, stepping back.
Beth wipes her eyes as Mason pulls her back down the hallway with him.
I turn, dropping the bag on the counter as I rifle through it, searching for the washcloth.
I pull out a pair of black sweats and a hoodie that are clearly mine, and set them aside to change into later.
I check all the pockets until I finally locate the cloth, then run to the bathroom, drenching it in water and coming back to Isabelle’s side.
“I’ve got the cloth, baby.”
“On my neck,” she says on a breath.
I push her loose curls off her neck, then fold over the fabric, placing it on her nape. Isabelle sighs in relief.
“That better?” I ask, rubbing my other hand up and down.
Isabelle lets out a deep groan that has my muscles tensing. Her body heaves as she inhales, slow and deep, before a pained whimper escapes her. “I want the pain relief.”
A cold sweat rushes over my body like a tsunami, and I feel nauseous as I lean over the bed, pushing the call button for the nurse.
A few minutes pass before Shanna comes in. “Everything okay?” Her tone has remained calm and even with every interaction. It must be exhausting to keep up a strong facade like that all day.
“She wants something for the pain.” The stress of feeling helpless is making my head pound.
Shanna crouches down at Isabelle’s head. “You put epidural down as your preference. Is that still the case?”
Isabelle nods against the mattress, squeezing my hand. I have to swallow down the bile threatening to rise. Fuck, I hate this. I just want her to be okay.
“I’ll page the anaesthetist now.” Shanna taps Isabelle’s hand before she stands, glancing at the monitor again.
“What do the numbers mean?” I tip my head when she looks over to me. Her eyes shift to Isabelle for a moment, then to the door.
I press a kiss to Isabelle’s head, frowning as I follow the nurse out of the room.
“I don’t want you to be alarmed,” she starts, lowering her voice, but it’s no fucking use. You start a sentence like that, and alarmed is the first thing I’m going to be. “But I suspect the umbilical cord might be wrapped around the baby’s neck.”
The panic must be written all over my face as Shanna waves her hands around, trying to calm me.
“I’m not worried. It’s more common than you might think.
But whenever Isabelle is having a contraction, the baby’s heart rate drops, which is often a sign.
She’s progressing very quickly, though, and the baby’s not showing any sign of distress, so we’re just going to keep doing what we’re doing. ”
With my hands on my hips, I start pacing the empty hallway.
“Once she’s had her epidural, and she’s nice and relaxed, I’ll let her know my thoughts. I’m going to have Dr Reeves come in and consult as well, but I’m going to need you to have your game face on, Gage. She needs you to be calm, because her first reaction might also be fear.”