Page 33 of The Doctors Will See You Now

“Hi, Carmen,” I greeted and clicked the door shut. “I’m Melody, Dr. Cummings’s nurse.”

“Hello,” she responded in a thick Spanish accent. Her eyes watched me hesitantly as both hands rested protectively around her pregnant belly.

“What brings you in today?”

“My stomach has been hurting,” she admitted, caressing it from top to bottom slowly.

“How long has it been hurting?” I asked as I slid on a pair of gloves. Some pain could be natural, as even Braxton Hicks contractions presented mild pain.

“For a few hours,” she responded, and her face started to strain with discomfort.

Oh, man. This might be more than Braxton Hicks.

“Okay, well, if you don’t mind lying back on the table, I’m just going to check your belly.”

She followed my instructions, but I couldn’t miss the way her brow furrowed and her mouth pinched into a firm line.

“Is this the pain that made you come in?” I asked and gently placed my hands on her abdomen.

“Sí…Uh…Yes,” she whispered, near agony toning her voice.

Her stomach was tight and firm like a drum. Contractions.

If she was as far into this show as I suspected, Carmen was one tough cookie.

“And you said you’ve been feeling like this for a few hours?” I asked as I glanced at my watch and noted the length. Thirty-five seconds. “Do you remember about what time it started?”

“Uh…before breakfast,” she responded as she worked to catch her breath.

Before I could continue my exam, another contraction started to work its way across her abdomen. Carmen gripped her belly in discomfort, and I gently encouraged her to breathe through it. “Big, deep breaths, Carmen. In through your nose and out through your mouth,” I said and grabbed the fetal monitor and ultrasound gel to place on her belly.

I moved the monitor across her rounded abdomen in search of the baby’s heart tones.

Nothing.

“Is everything okay?” she asked with gritted teeth, and I offered a reassuring smile.

“I promise I’m going to take very good care of you and your baby, Carmen,” I said calmly. “Now, I just want you to turn on your left side and focus on making sure you’re giving your baby lots and lots of good oxygen, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, fear working its way into the creases at the corners of her eyes.

As I continued to search for heart tones and came up empty, I reached toward the wall and clicked the button that let the staff know I needed immediate assistance.

Bum-Bum. The first sounds of the baby’s heart rhythm finally reached my ears, but it wasn’t the normal, gallop-like noises that reassured. It was slow, much, much slower than it should be.

I gently pressed my fingers to Carmen’s wrist to make sure I wasn’t detecting her heartbeat on the monitor and immediately came to the ominous realization that I did, in fact, have baby’s heart rate.

“Carmen, have you been having any pressure in your vaginal area? Do you feel the urge to push?”

She nodded frantically. “I feel like I need to go to the bathroom right now,” she moaned, and then her eyes went wide. “Oh, no. I feel like I’m peeing.”

“It’s okay,” I said soothingly. “I think your water just broke.” I switched out my gloves—removing the blue ones for a pair of sterile ones off the exam table. I moved toward the middle of the bed and sat on the edge. “Carmen, I need you to relax your legs a bit. I’m going to check to see how far dilated you are, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered.

“You’re going to feel some pressure,” I instructed. “I just need you to stay as relaxed as possible and breathe through it, okay?”

“Okay.”