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The ride to the hospital was quiet, Katrina too nervous to talk and Dave trying to focus. They arrived in Saint John’s Parish just after seven.
“Has the baby moved?”
“No,” she replied.
“I’m glad we’re here, then.”
As soon as she saw the doctor, she told her baby David hadn’t moved for two hours.
“We’ll hook you up to a monitor,” the doctor replied.
They headed to labor and delivery, Katrina in a wheelchair. Her well-being sunk to a new low as they got her situated in a room where she took her clothes off and changed into a hospital gown. “Ugh, it’s getting real.”
The nurse had her lie down in the bed where they hooked her up to a fetal monitor. Dave and Katrina watched each other; their eyes riveted on each other’s faces. The sounds of baby David’s heartbeat rang out strong and regular, echoing throughout the room, helping to allay her fears, her relief increasing a bit.
“That’s good news,” the doctor announced, turning the volume down. “I’ll examine you, and then we’ll just wait for you to have another contraction.”
She did the examination, Dave standing at the head of the table to give Katrina a little privacy, and looked up from between Katrina’s legs, obviously surprised. “You’re dilated to seven centimeters! You say you only had one contraction?”
“Just the one,” Katrina said. “My back’s been bothering me for a couple of days.”
“Well, you must have been having back labor then because you don’t have much further to go before this baby is going to be born. No wonder he’s not moving. Mama is in labor.”
She pressed on Katrina’s belly and up the sides.
“He’s in the right position, too. If you were further along, we’d let nature take its course. As long as the baby is safe in the amniotic fluid, you can stay like this for a while longer. It’s a bit early for him to come.”
“Um, I’m having another contraction,” she said, flushing. “Can I put my legs down?”
“By all means,” the doctor said, covering her up. “Lie on your left side.”
Katrina rolled over on her left side and closed her eyes, taking a slow, deep breath and letting it out, blocking out all the sounds, the monitor ringing out the baby’s heartbeat.
The doctor stayed by her side, watching the graph forming as the contraction unfolded. When it began to let up, Katrina opened her eyes. “That was like the first one.”
“And you had that at what time?”
“Five twenty-five,” Dave said.
“How are you, Katrina?” the doctor asked.
“Scared. I didn’t want to have him early. I guess I’m not going home.”
“Katrina, I want to stop labor and give baby David a little more time to cook. I’m going to make arrangements to transfer you to New Orleans. They have the best newborn intensive care unit in the state.”
It swept away all their well-being; Dave grabbed Katrina’s hand, trying to comprehend what the doctor was saying.
“I’ll make a call to the doctor who will take care of you and get his drug protocol started before we do anything. He’s a great doc, Katrina; you’ll be in excellent hands and have the best care for baby David.”
She explained the drugs that they’d give her that would also help the baby.
“Why are you moving Katrina though?” Dave asked, suddenly frightened. They had no control over what was happening.
“The best care will be right there for the baby when he comes instead of having to transfer him away from Katrina to another hospital. It might be unnecessary, but I want to take every precaution.”
Dave nodded, beyond speech. Squeezing his hand, Katrina gave it a little tug.
“It’ll be okay,” she said, trying to reassure him.
