“You sure hit the labor ground running,” I said with a smile.
“I was born early and fast. This is all genetic,” Mia explained. “Now that we’re back in cell service, I need to call my doctor and let her know.”
Mia was admitted quickly. South Paw remained in the waiting area, but I sat with her in the exam room.
“Thanks for coming with me,” she said softly.
“Oh. Yeah, of course. I didn’t even think that maybe you’d want one of the other Old Ladies. I’m sorry if I—”
She shook her head. “I like your bedside manner. And you’re a doctor. I’m glad you’re here.”
I looked down at my hand that was in a cast.
“You’re coming in with me, right?” Mia asked. “To the delivery room?”
“You sure?”
She nodded.
“I’d be honored to be in the delivery room with you,” I assured her.
“I’m scared,” she admitted.
“I know.”
“I think you should procreate with Boxer.”
“What is it with you guys? You want everyone knocked up?”
“The next generation,” she said. “I love the idea of a huge family with tons of kids running around laughing and playing.” She paused and shook her head. “I keep seeing Lily as a young woman, and I keep imagining that moment she brings home a guy for the first time. And all her tattooed uncles give him hell and send him running.”
I laughed. “That’s such a clear visual.”
“Don’t you want to be around to see that?”
I paused for a moment, and then I nodded. “Yeah. I do.”
She braced for pain, breathing through it. When it was over, she leaned back, exhausted.
An hour later, they wheeled Mia into the delivery room. She was ready to give birth to her daughter. I donned a pair of scrubs and took my place next to Mia.
“Okay,” the doctor said, smiling behind her mask. “During this next contraction, give me abigpush.”
Mia nodded. The dark hair at her temples was damp with sweat, and her face was wreathed in exertion. When the next contraction hit, she clamped down and gripped the nurse’s hand.
The contraction passed, and Mia collapsed against the bed.
“You’re doing great,” I told her with a smile. I looked at the doctor, and even though half her face was concealed, I’d spent the better part of a decade reading facial expressions behind masks. And I knew the doctor was worried.
Mia shrieked.
She was feeling everything, because by the time we’d gotten to the hospital, it had been too late for an epidural.
After another push that failed to yield any results, Mia wised up and looked at the doctor. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“The baby is breech,” the doctor said. “We need to deliver her as quickly as possible.”
“Okay…” Mia said weakly, appearing afraid of what was coming next.