![]() “Don’t put all the blame on Brandon! He’s just in a slump!” THE QUİET ROOM is cool and silent as I lock the door behind me. “Fine.” I head towards the quiet room but shout back over my shoulder. Before two sets of triplets show up.” I sigh. Avery puts her heavily tattooed hands over her eyes. “Ninety-five percent of the time,” I say matter-of-factly, reaching under her white and blue hospital gown. First babies always take longer.” “Really?” Avery asks, the worry in her voice thicker than the patchouli. I can’t stand these contractions anymore.” Grabbing gloves off the table next to the bed, I say supportively, “you’re doing great. When the contraction passes, she opens her eyes and gives me a pitiful look. ![]() “How are we doing, Avery?” “Doctor Maggie is tha-oh!” Avery grips the handrail of the bed, her face corkscrewing tight with pain, breathing through another brutal contraction. I shut the door gently and grab the patient’s chart from the wall. ![]() Okay, just kidding, there’s a crap ton of rules. And, kind of like Fight Club, the second rule of the maternity ward is there is no second rule. The first rule of the maternity ward is whatever a birthing mom wants, a birthing mom gets. ![]() An overwhelming smell of musky patchouli oil makes me gag, but I breathe deep and keep a professional smile on my face. T 1 Maggie he large delivery room is dim and quiet, except for the whooshing sounds of waves over the speakers and the steady beep of the heart monitor above the bed. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |