Faith, Honor & Freedom (12 page)

“Oh,” I say, realizing this most definitely won’t be a false alarm. “I guess we’ll be meeting a little sooner than tomorrow, now, won’t we?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she says nervously.

“Did you call the midwife yet?”

“Not yet, no real contractions since it broke.”

“All right, do you want to give me your address? I’ve gotta swing by my house quickly to grab my doula bag, but I shouldn’t be long,” I promise, jumping up from the couch and grabbing my overnight bag to get dressed.

“I … ah, don’t have a house,” she says a little nervously. I stop moving.

“An apartment is fine, too. We can do this just about anywhere,” I say, praying she at least has an apartment.

“I don’t have one of those either,” she says in a small voice.

“What do you mean, Jade? Where have you been living?”

“In a church basement … but don’t worry … I’ll have the money to pay you. Maybe not all today, but I do have a job, and I’ve been working hard, trying to save,” she says in a rushed voice.

My shoulders fall, and I take a deep breath. “Where are you at, love?” I ask.

“I’m on LeMarchant Street, but I’m almost out of minutes on my phone so I better go.”

“Go in the little café we planned to meet at tomorrow Jade; it’s open twenty-four hours. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I manage to get out before the line goes dead.

I quickly dial Hoss’s number, but I’m not shocked when it goes straight to voicemail. Great. I call a cab and get dressed before splashing some cold water on my face
. I can do this. It’s my responsibility to pull it together and be professional.
I grab my overnight bag and rush out the door, locking it from the inside. The cab is waiting when I get downstairs, and I tell him there’s an extra ten if he’s fast. He obeys, and we speed off toward my house.

I throw him the money as he pulls in my driveway and dart inside. I grab my doula bag and my car keys and rush back outside. I make it into my jeep just as it starts to pour. Shit! I really hope she took my advice and went indoors to wait for me. I speed slightly as I drive toward the cafe, wondering what the hell I’m going to do. Clearly I’ll take her to the hospital, but what about afterward? How could her husband have left her pregnant and homeless? I hope Sadie is her midwife; she’ll know what to do.

I park in front of the café and pull the hood up on my sweater before rushing inside. I scan the room but don’t see anyone who looks remotely pregnant. I turn to leave and check the street, but stop when I spot a pregnant, very young teenager waddle out of the bathroom. She looks to be about fourteen. She has piercing green eyes and long blonde hair that’s pulled back into a loose ponytail. She’s wearing a green cotton dress that could use a good washing, and a ratty backpack sits on her shoulders. Worst of all, though, her stomach looks way too small to be thirty-nine weeks. I hope her dates are accurate.

“Jade?” I ask with what I’m sure if a horrified look on my face.

“Yeah,” she says shyly.

A contraction hits, and she doubles over in pain. I rush behind her, placing my hands, under her belly and gently swaying her hips. “It’s okay, Jade. It’s all going to be okay.” I look around the café, and it seems all eyes are on us. I need to get her out of here. When the contraction subsides, I grab a hold of her hand and pull her out the door and inside my jeep. I secure her seatbelt for her before jumping into the driver’s seat. I pull out onto the street, speeding toward the hospital.

“Thank you,” she says, looking down into her lap. “Where are we going?”

“The hospital. It’s the safest place for you, so we’ll just have your midwife meet us there.” She looks over at me, petrified.

“I can’t go to the hospital.”

“Yes, you can,” I say, soothingly. “They’re great there, and we can still make sure you get the birth you want.”

“No, I mean, I don’t have any insurance, and I don’t have enough to pay for that. I
can’t
go to the hospital. Please let me out,” she says, starting to panic.

“Did your midwife know? Does she already have another plan?” I ask hopefully.

“I’ve never had a midwife,” she answers sheepishly, and all of the blood drains from my face. It takes all of my will power to keep my concentration on driving. What the hell was she thinking lying to me like that?

“Have you seen a doctor at all this pregnancy?”

“I wanted to, I did … but I just didn’t have the money. They wanted me to fill out these forms, and I didn’t even have an address to give them. I was so embarrassed, I just didn’t try again.”

I try and settle the nausea that’s taken over my body as I pull into the hospital parking lot.

“Jade, it’s really important that you give birth here at the hospital. We can fill out forms after you’re admitted to see if the Oregon Healthy Kids Program will pay for your birth, okay? I’ll help you and make some calls, but you really
need
to have your baby here. You’ve never had an ultrasound, and we don’t know if there will be any complications.”

“Okay, just promise you won’t leave me,” she pleads.

“I promise. It’s raining, though, so I’m going to pull up to the front doors and let you out. You can watch me park right here, I’ll grab my bag, and then I’ll meet you back inside okay?”

“Okay,” she says nervously.

I look over at Jade, who’s currently lying on the hospital bed while the doctor performs an ultrasound. I managed to get her in, telling the admitting clerk that she would be paying out of pocket. I looked up the church’s address to use as her home address. Surely, they could help her, as well, after this is all said and done. I’ll call Oregon Healthy Kids Program in the morning to see what can be done there.

The doctor remains eerily silent as he performs the ultrasound, and luckily, Jade has only had one contraction during the entire thing. I’m glad they’re still far apart so that we have time to figure some things out.

The doctor finishes up the ultrasound and wipes the gel from her belly. He looks down at her gravely. “I’m so sorry Jade, but I’ve got some bad news.” I squeeze her hand tightly. I saw the little flicker of the heartbeat, so I know the baby is alive, but that’s about all I can deduce from an ultrasound. Jade slowly nods her head.

“Your baby is showing signs of intra-uterine growth restriction. There are markers showing you are around thirty-three weeks pregnant, not thirty-nine as you had previously thought.” I feel my heart stop beating.

“What’s that?” Jade asks.

“A baby at thirty-three weeks should weigh around just over four pounds. Unfortunately, your little one is weighing in at only two pounds. These machines are pretty accurate, but they can be off by a pound either way. Regardless, your fetus is still small for his or her gestational age, and is probably going to require a few weeks in the neonatal intensive care unit. I’m going to have one of our neonatologists come up and speak with you about what will be happening to your baby after birth. Since your water has already broken, and you’re having contractions, we’ll just keep an eye on you and the baby for now. We’re not going to be able to stop your labor.”

The doctor says his goodbyes and leaves the room, leaving just us two inside. I look over to a terrified Jade. “I can’t afford any of this,” she says, tears glistening against the green specks in her eyes. She shouldn’t have to worry about any of this; she should only be concerned about getting that baby into this world safely.

“Where is the father?” I ask, knowing she probably isn’t married as she had once told me. I watch as fear distorts her face, and she turns away from me.

“There was no father.” Sensing it’s just not something she wants to talk about, especially while in labor, I change the subject.

“How old are you, Jade?”

“Sixteen,” she answers. I thank the Lord she’s not fourteen, but she’s still too young to be doing this on her own.

“What about your parents?”

“Drug addicts,” she clips, clearly not wanting to talk about them either.

I can’t bring myself to respond, so I nod my head, and we sit in silence for a few minutes.

“The monitors they have on you are wireless. If you want to get up and walk around the room, you’re welcome to. It might help speed up your contractions and get this show on the road.”

“That sounds good,” she says, almost sadly.

“You can do this Jade, just a few more pushes,” I whisper encouragingly. I wipe the sweat from her forehead with a cool cloth and grip the bottom of her thigh, bringing it back into her tummy. The nurse on the other side of me is doing the same. Once she started moving around, her labor picked up quickly, and only an hour later she was ready to push.

I watch the screen that shows me when the next contraction is starting. As soon as I see the graph start to scale upward, I say “Push, Jade.” She bears down with all her might, and soon the baby slips out in one swift motion. I look down, frightened for the tiny blue baby girl. The neonatologists and nurses waiting nearby grab the baby as soon as the cord is cut. She’s rushed off to the other side of the room where an incubator is waiting.

“Is the baby okay?” she asks, panicked.

“They’re working now. Did you want to know the sex?” I ask.

“No,” she says, and I look down at her a little skeptically, the doctor who delivered the baby also gives her a strange look. “I’ve thought she was a girl my entire pregnancy, but I don’t want to know if I was wrong until I know she’s going to be alright.” I nod, slightly confused, but it’s not my place to be judging here.

After what seems like an eternity, we hear a miniature squeak of a cry. Jade and I both breathe a sigh of relief. “It’s going to be okay, honey, it is,” I promise. She nods, and we wait for the second phase of labor to start—the unrewarding part.

Once everything is said and done, I help Jade take a shower. Fortunately, the baby’s size is going to provide for an easy recovery. No stitches at all, for which I am thankful. They would come with a chance of infection, and I know she won’t see a doctor once she leaves here. What is she going to do if the baby gets sick, though? I have too many questions, and not enough courage to ask them all. She’s been through enough today.

After I help dress her, I ask if she wants to go down and see the baby. The neonatologist had been by to say the baby was now on a Sipap machine and weighed in at two pounds, four ounces. I was thankful he didn’t reveal the baby’s sex to her.

“Did you want a wheelchair, or did you want to walk down?”

“Not yet,” she replies. “I’m a little tired; maybe I should rest first.” I look at her—she’s dressed and what looks to be fully awake. I know that if at all possible, Mom should see her baby within the first few hours of birth. It’s an important part of the bonding process.

“How about I get you a wheelchair, and I’ll just run you down quickly to have a peek,” I offer.

“Not right now,” she says, climbing into bed. “Do you mind going down and sitting with her for a bit, so she doesn’t get lonely.”

“I think it’s you the baby will want to see,” I say, really trying to push the idea. She rolls over and doesn’t say another word. I glance down at my watch. It’s nearly four in the morning. I’m getting tired, too, but the only time I caught a glimpse of the baby, she was blue. I know I need to see the baby again to make sure she’s okay.

“The call button beside you rings a nurse, who would be happy to take you down at any time. I’m going to go for a quick visit, and I’ll be back in a few hours after I get some rest,” I say in a last ditch attempt to give her the option. The last thing this mom needs is post-partum depression.

I close the door behind me and walk down the few flights of stairs to the NICU. I think about visiting Violet, but remember how tired she is and would hate to wake her. I show the ID they gave me when I registered Jade, and I’m let in through the security doors. Because I’m mainly a homebirth doula, I don’t have a lot of pull in the hospital, so this is one of the few times I’ve been in here. I scrub my hands and my arms up to my elbows and slip on a yellow gown.

“Baby Comeau?” I ask the lady working the front desk.

“Bed nine,” she replies after glancing down at her chart.

“Thank you.”

I find the isolette easily. A teeny, tiny baby is laying on top of a pink blanket inside.

“Mom?” she asks.

“No, doula. Mom’s resting. She asked me to come down and see how she’s doing.”

“Oh,” she says hesitantly.

“Can you do me a favor and keep an eye on her if she comes down. She’s sixteen and absolutely terrified. She doesn’t have any money, and I think she’s scared to bond because she thinks you’ll try and take her baby as payment. I’m calling Oregon Healthy Kids Program as soon as they’re open and filing an emergency claim for her. Hopefully I’ll be able to get it all straightened out in a few hours, and she can relax and just enjoy her baby.”

The nurse looks back at me sadly. “Of course, I’ll make sure she knows this little sweetheart isn’t going anywhere but into her arms.” I give her a smile back and look inside the incubator.

A sweet little girl with tons of blonde hair still partially coated in vernix. Her little eyes are shut, and her tiny lips are curled into an “o” shape. I’m unable to see her nose, and most of her head as it’s covered in the equipment needed to help her breathe. I reach in through the little hole in the incubator to touch her hand. She wraps her finger around mine, without ever opening her eyes.

“She’s beautiful,” I say to myself.

“She is,” I hear the nurse reply.

“How is she doing?”

“She’s good. She was having some trouble breathing, but that’s pretty common. She’s doing really well on the Sipap machine, though, so hopefully she will only be on it a few days. Hardest part is going to be getting her to grow. They’re giving her a little rest now, and then we will run some tests tomorrow, just to make sure there’s no underlying issues,” she says, coming up beside me to peek in on her.

“Do you know if Mom plans to breast or bottle feed?” she asks.

“Breastfeed,” I reply, knowing full well there’s no way she could afford anything else. “She pumped a little right after the baby was born and hopefully the nurses will help her keep pumping. I’m going home for a few hours of sleep, but I’ll be back soon.”