Surprise Delivery(53)

She nods and suddenly doesn’t seem capable of speaking.

“Good, Debra,” I say. “That’s very good. Okay, I need you to get me a large bowl of hot water and some clean towels. Do you understand?”

She nods again, her eyes wide, her face seeming to grow paler by the second. Great. I hope she can manage to get me what I need before she passes out.

“Good,” I say. “Then off you go, Debra. Get those things to me as fast as you can.”

Debra turns and dashes back the way she came. I hear the clank and crash of things being tossed around in a frenzy. Good, that means she’s getting me what I need. I turn my attention back to Alexis. Her eyes are fluttering open and closed and when I touch her forehead, she feels like she’s burning up with a fever. Beads of sweat dot her brow, and she looks absolutely riddled with pain.

“Hang on, Alexis,” I whisper softly. “Help is coming.”

Debra comes back with water and towels as I asked. I take them from her and set them down on the table, then turn back to her.

“Have you called the paramedics yet?” I ask.

She shakes her head, her inability to speak obviously continuing.

“Okay, that’s your next task,” I instruct. “Tell them where we are and to get here as fast as possible.”

Debra nods and then sprints back to the front of the store. I lift Alexis’ dress, bunching it up around her waist to see what’s happening. Her thighs are smeared with blood, making my heart sink. I use a pair of scissors on the table to cut off her panties – I need to see what’s going on.

Dipping one of the towels into the water, I clean her up as best as I can. I look at Alexis’ face and don’t like her color. She’s blanching and her pulse seems to be getting even threadier than before. Once I have her cleaned up and can actually see, I groan. I know exactly what’s happening and I know just how fucked we are right now.

I have nothing to work with – no gloves, no medical bag, no medicines. Alexis’ baby is coming – I have to assume all the stress of the evening forced her into early labor – but her baby is in the breech position. A tear in her perineum is what caused all of the bleeding. I’m guessing she had one hell of a contraction out on the street which caused the tear.

The loss of blood, along with all of the stress she’s under, has caused her blood pressure to plummet, which is putting her on the verge of passing out. And I’m going to need her awake and alert. We can’t wait for the paramedics to arrive – we’re going to have to deliver this baby ourselves.

Without anything to help bring Alexis out of this pain-induced stupor, I’m going to have to rely on an old-fashioned remedy – pain. As much as I hate to cause her pain, there’s no other choice. I can’t leave her baby like it is for long or there could be some very big problems. The baby itself could very possibly die.

“This is going to hurt, Alexis,” I say. “And I’m sorry for that, but we have no options.”

She moans, but that’s about it. Not that I expected much more.

“Oh my God.”

I turn and see Debra standing there with the phone still in her hand, her eyes fixed on the bloody rags. She looks like she’s either seen a ghost or is about to pass out – and I can’t afford for her to pass out.

“Debra,” I say. “I need your help.”

“What’s happening to her?”

“I need you to hold her down. Stand at the head of the table, put your hands on her shoulders, and do not let her get up,” I insist. “Hold her down tight.”

“What’s happening?”

“Do it, Debra. Now,” I snap.

She moves into position and puts her hands on Alexis’ shoulders, holding her down firmly. I give her a nod.

“She’s in labor but her baby’s in the breech position,” I explain. “I’m going to have to try to move it.”

“Move it?”

I nod. “It’s a procedure called an external cephalic version,” I say. “I’m basically trying to – spin – her baby around into the proper birthing position by applying pressure from outside of her belly.

The ECV isn’t a procedure that has a high success rate, but it can be done – and I’m really hoping to be one of the statistical outliers here. The moment I start manipulating her baby, I can feel it moving – which apparently sends a shockwave of pain through her. Alexis cries out and starts to sit up, her face etched with agony.

“Hold her,” I snap. “Hold her down.”

Debra manages to keep her pressed down to the table and Alexis is now wide awake. Which is good. Her eyes are open wide, and her breathing is ragged. Sweat is pouring off her brow and her entire body is tense. I keep applying pressure to the right spots and feel the baby still moving. Tears are streaming down Alexis’ face and she’s moaning in pain.

“It’s going to be okay,” I tell her, trying to project calmness. “Just stay with me. Focus on your breathing, Alexis. Stay calm and save your energy because once I have the baby turned, I’m going to need you to push.”

She nods and grits her teeth. I have to think that on some primal level, she knows that she and her baby are in trouble right now. It’s not ideal, but at least she’s focused. Her mind is sharp and she’s here with me at the moment.