Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 97275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Dismay washed over me when I saw that the woman was dead. Her neck was in such a horrific angle it would have been blatantly obvious to anyone. Her eyes stared vacantly at the blue sky, and that’s when I noted that she was pregnant. Her face was in such a bad shape that I just knew we wouldn’t be able to do CPR until the medics got here. Gabe saw it, too.
I ran back to my car and removed the Go Bag that I always kept there for emergencies, and ran back to Gabe who was removing the woman’s clothes from her top half. I watched with clinical detachment, and then set out everything that I thought we would need. I glanced over quickly to make sure the man was getting help, too, and saw two men doing CPR on him as well.
Gabe and I worked quickly, and I assisted him as he performed a C-section in the fucking field. I’ve witnessed multiple C-sections, but this was my first that didn’t occur in the sterile environment of an OR.
In a matter of minutes, Gabe was reaching inside of the dead woman and removing the baby. The incision was a large one, so no maneuvering was being done, the baby slid right on out in a boneless heap.
The next few minutes blurred as we performed CPR on the infant, and then turned over care to the paramedics who showed up seven minutes after the accident. Normal response time outside of the city limits was eleven minutes, and we were lucky that they got here so fast.
We followed the ambulance the whole way to the hospital. I went upstairs to change out of my dirty scrubs, and sat down in the break room and cried. I cried for that sweet baby who would never see his mom. I cried for that poor mommy who would never know the joy of holding her baby for the first time. I cried for Max not being here when I needed him so badly.
I cried for well over fifteen minutes, collected myself, shoved all of my thoughts in a deep vault in my mind, and then finally headed back out to the nurse’s station. Of course, my coworkers were all curious, but I didn’t feel up to explaining.
I threw myself into work in a futile effort to try to forget the turmoil that was taking over my brain. Grabbing my charts from the nurse’s station, I knocked on the first door and entered. My new mom was asleep, and I announced myself so she didn’t freak when she saw me standing over her newborn.
“Hi, Charlotte! How are you feeling?” I asked her.
“I feel like I just shit a watermelon. My asshole hurts. Why does my asshole hurt?” She asked looking at her baby with pride.
I had to smother my laugh. This woman was awesome. She was a hoot during labor, and I heard her jokes all the way down the hall in the maternal care unit. The nurses were still laughing about her outburst when the doctor gave her her episiotomy.
Apparently, when the doctor went to cut for the episiotomy, she begged the doctor not to cut her clit off on accident. When the doctor laughed it off, she said, “After having to endure this hell, I’ll have to have that to ever get past the fact that a watermelon coming out of your vagina is the end result of that process.”
“Umm, well you did have an episiotomy. It’s going to hurt for a few weeks. They did have to cut nearly all the way down to your rectum.” I said consolingly.
“Fucking wonderful. When I see that man again, I’m going to punch him in the face and cut his balls off with a blow torch.” She ground out and then covered her face with a pillow.
The door creaked open, and the man in question came inside, unaware of the emanate danger he was in. “I got you some dinner, honey!” He said cheerfully.
Since he wasn’t paying attention, he didn’t see the shoe flying at his head until it hit him on the shoulder and bounced to the ground. “Hey!”
“Look what you’ve done to me!” She yelled and raised her shirt, opened her legs, and then showed off the goods to everyone.
Her husband winced and looked away. “I didn’t tell you to go off your birth control!”
“Yeah, well I was stupid. I specifically remember us speaking about it though. My problem is that you didn’t tell me my vagina would be ripped open!” She seethed.
Now I should mention the fact that her husband is also an OB/GYN doctor. He knew exactly what could happen when babies were conceived. How he was able to keep this from her, I don’t know.
Using the lull in screaming, I examined Charlotte, the baby, and made my way out of the room. Just as I was about to go outside, my name was called from the nurse’s station.
The charge nurse waved me over and said, “I need you to go down to the ER. There was a bad wreck, and it involved a pregnant woman. The baby was delivered, but the mom didn’t make it. The baby needs to be checked over, and brought up here. Take everything you will need. Be careful.”
I looked at her questioningly, but she’d turned around and started barking out orders to those that were gathered around the nurse’s station. Gathering a blanket, a portable crib, a nose syringe, and hospital bracelets, I made my way down stairs and arrived into utter chaos.
There was no way for her to know that I was there for the wreck. That I helped deliver the baby. However, I didn’t want to get into it. Instead, I did what I was told. The elevators dinged, and I was momentarily struck speechless.
Wall to wall, there were bikers galore. Some wore their leathers, other’s wore only t-shirts, some had on blue jean jackets, but there was no doubt in my mind that they were bikers. They exuded a type of force that shouted ‘Biker!’ They parted as and watched my walk by. All of them solemn. Some of the women were crying. Some of the men held their women. Others completely ignored me.