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“Sir, you’ll need to check your wife in,” he instructs, nodding to the front counter. “We’ll take her directly back.”
I growl in frustration, wishing I could stay with Winter. Her wide, fearful green eyes tell me she wants me by her side.
But Starla takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. “I’ll stay with you,” she ensures Winter. “And Gabriel will be right behind us.”
I jerk my head in a nod and turn toward the woman behind the computer at the front desk. I’m mildly surprised to realize I know her from the last time I came barreling through these doors. And it’s apparent she recognizes me too.
“H-Hello,” she greets me, trying to hide her fear. “Checking in? What’s your wife’s name?”
“Winter Martinez,” I say, doing my best to rein in my impatience because this girl doesn’t deserve to suffer my wrath once again.
She gathers my information quickly despite her anxiety, which makes her words come out in a stutter. Then she’s offering me a shaky congratulations and instructing me on where to go to find Winter’s room.
As soon as she’s done, I sprint down the hall in search of my wife. I step through the doors, and immediate relief registers on Winter’s face. She reaches out to me, and I stride across the room to take my place by her side. Starla’s on the far side of the bed, offering her support as well.
“What did the doctor say?” I demand, angry that I missed a minute of this event.
“Nothing yet,” Winter reassures me. “She hasn’t been in. We only just got situated.” She gasps, gripping my hand in a vise as another contraction tears through her, and she almost doubles over.
“Breathe, baby,” I remind her, rubbing circles on her back as I hope she doesn’t bite my head off.
This time, she does as I say, resuming her breathing technique.
When Dr. Denning finally arrives, she’s far calmer and collected than I feel is appropriate for the situation. “Congratulations,” she says cheerily as she enters the room. “Are you ready to have your baby?” Her smile indicates we should be.
While I’m bursting with anticipation over finally getting to meet our baby girl, I can’t say that I’m ready for it. Not when Winter is so clearly panicking.
Dr. Denning seems to gather that rather quickly, too, as Winter shakes her head vigorously no. Her tone is kind as she steps farther into the room. “It’s perfectly natural to be scared, Winter. But remember, this baby has a long way from now until you get to hold her in your arms. Relax, and remember to breathe. Think of something peaceful because I assure you, it’s not time to start pushing.”
Winter nods as the doctor sits in her rolling chair and takes a look beneath the modesty sheet spread over Winter’s knees.
“You’re looking good so far. You’re dilated about three centimeters, which is good. You’re coming along. I want you to get up and move around as much as you want while you’re waiting for dilation to increase. The motion will help move things along, and it helps your body. Okay?”
Winter nods, unable to speak as the start of another contraction rips through her, and her face reddens. This time, she remembers to breathe on her own, even as the sweat starts to rise on her skin.
“I’ll be back to check on you in an hour,” Dr. Denning assures, rising from her chair.
An hour seems excruciatingly long right now.How can Winter possibly wait that long?
But somehow, she manages. Starla and I take turns walking with her around the room whenever she’s ready to be up and active, and as the hour drags by, her contractions grow more intense and frequent. I can tell it’s wearing her down. She looks exhausted already, and the hard part hasn’t even begun. Her beautiful red locks stick to her forehead in clumps because she’s sweating so fiercely from the pain.
“You’re doing great, love,” I encourage during one of her breaks from the intense pain.
She releases a breathy laugh. “I feel like I finally understand the true diagnosis of mad cow disease.”
I laugh, glad to see her humor is still intact.
“I’m going to go see if I can find a damp rag to help cool you down,” Starla offers, rising from her chair.
“Thank you,” Winter says gratefully, flashing her a tired grin.
Starla disappears from the room, and for a moment, we’re alone.
I help Winter back onto the hospital bed, and she leans back, her breathing seeming to calm.
“I’m so proud of you,” I murmur, looking deep into her green eyes. “You’re being so brave and strong.”
A small smile tugs at her lips. “Just remember, if I break your hand, thisisall your fault.”
