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“Stop trying to ruin our fun,” I said so the barista could finish the order.
“You ladies can drink your pumpkin drinks and dream of sugar-plum fairies. I’ll take a knee on that nonsense and continue taking my coffee black.”
He led me to a small round table near the counter, where we waited for our drinks.
“So, what’s going on with my patient? Is she the only one in?” I asked.
“All of the others apparently didn’t want you delivering, so I handled that, and they’re off in recovery with their little precious ones.”
“Okay,” I rolled my eyes. “What’s going on with Olivia? She’s a sweetheart,” I said, remembering the vibrant young woman and how excited she was to have her first child. “I hope she is comfortable in the suite she and her husband requested.”
“That’s the thing,” he said, grabbing our coffees as soon as the barista held them up in our direction and returning to the table. “The suite is perfect, as they always are for those fortunate enough to afford it.”
“Is she struggling with the pain? She was induced at seven this morning, correct?”
“Yes, three hours ago, and the contractions kicked in after that. She’s a bit stalled out right now, and I think her water could be broken around three or so if you want to deliver for her by ten tonight?”
“You always have this stuff figured out like clockwork, but sometimes, the baby comes when the baby comes.”
“Pitocin says different,” he chuckled. “That should kick it up as well.”
“So that’s the issue? Her laboring is just lagging a bit?”
He shrugged and rolled his eyes, then leaned forward toward me. “The husband is a tremendous dick,” he said.
“The husband has a what?” I said, confused by what he’d said.
“Not has, you perv, is. He is a dick,” he said, his tone alerting me that I’d misheard him and responded loudly. “You’ve met him, right?”
“He never came to her appointments because he was at work. That’s not abnormal, though,” I said.
“Well, he pranced into her room like a peacock.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“I just like to see these mothers get as much love and support as they deserve during labor and delivery,” he said, looking put off. “This guy has all but abandoned her since his parents arrived.”
“He’s leaving her to do what?”
“The dude left his mom with Olivia and her mom, then took off with his dad to go outside because his dad was irritated the delivery was taking too long. I guess I wouldn’t care, but Olivia keeps asking for him and seems pretty crushed he’s not around. His mom keeps informing her that men don’t need to be in the delivery room anyway.”
“One of those,” I said, rolling my eyes. “That sucks because she is so excited for her first baby. It’s a shame her husband seems more concerned with impressing his dad.”
“Exactly,” John said as if I’d finally gotten the hint. “I think it’s messed up. It’s their first child, and whenever homeboy gets called back to the room because his wife needs him, he acts like she’s interrupting a visit with the President. And then his mom gets all panicked, worried about her unattended husband.”
“Is the guy’s father disabled or something?” I asked, confused by this unnecessary family drama.
“No, he just seems like as big an asshole as his son,” John responded.
“God, I hope this isn’t going to be a problem.”
“Like his parents fighting with her parents about whose grandchild the baby really is kind of problem?”
“Sounds like that’s coming next,” I said, worried about Olivia in this situation and what it could mean for her baby. “Well, they’ll have to work out their issues in the recovery unit. What is important to me is that Olivia is laboring comfortably. After hearing this, I know why her contractions slowed down.”
“Stress.”
“Every time,” I answered. “She needs to be relaxed and stress-free. If she worries about her husband, she will be upset and fight contractions. That is aside from the consequences of elevated blood pressure at this juncture. I’m not pleased to hear this.”
