the tiny baby in the car seat, and he begins to scream, adding to the stress of the situation.
“Em,” I gasp as she runs into the room. “See if you can settle the baby down.”
With wide eyes, she looks at Misty passed out in my arms and then down to the wailing infant in the car seat.
“Please,” I beg, unsure of what I’m even asking for.
She nods as she reaches for the handle of the car seat. She picks the carrier up and begins cooing to the child, walking further into the house, getting him away from the situation unfolding right now.
If this were the battlefield, I’d have more control. I’d be able to assess the situation quickly and respond as needed, but I’m at a loss. I have no idea why she passed out. She looked extremely tired and worn out, but after just having a baby and traveling as far as she has in such a short period of time, I know there are other complications that may be at play here.
Kincaid is talking into the phone, relaying to the doctor the limited information that we have.
“Let’s get her to your room, man,” Kincaid says standing back to give me room. “Get her up off the floor.”
I scoop her near weightless body in my arms and walk toward my room. I can tell she’s breathing, and that is reassuring.
“She just had a C-section four days ago,” I say to Kincaid, who relays the information into the phone.
I watch as he nods his head, listening to what the doctor has to say.
He pulls the phone slightly away from his mouth. “He says to check the incision for infection.”
I settle her on my bed and carefully pull her t-shirt up and the elastic to her sweats down.
“Fuck,” I say on a hiss. “It’s open in a few spots and red as hell,” I say to Kincaid, who’s looking over my shoulder to see for himself.
“It’s infected,” he says to the doctor. He listens for a little bit longer then says his goodbyes. “He’ll be here shortly.”
I get up from the bed and head into the bathroom for a cold wash rag. I could feel how hot and feverish she was when I carried her into the room.
I ring most of the water from the rag and walk back over and sit beside her. I run the cloth over her forehead and down her neck.
“He doesn’t think we need an ambulance?” I finally say, growing nervous by the minute when she doesn’t wake up or even stir at the brush of the cold cloth on her skin.
“He said since she’s breathing, he doesn’t feel like it’s necessary.” He looks down at her and angles his head oddly. “She doesn’t seem to be hemorrhaging.”
I look down between her legs and don’t see any blood. I roll her body over slightly and look under her. I didn’t even consider that as a possibility. I’m too close to this whole thing to remain objective.
I hear the baby crying before Em makes it to my doorway. I turn my head and see her rocking him gently, trying unsuccessfully to calm him down.
I stand from Misty’s side and walk to the door. I step out into the hallway and see every damn fucker that’s here tonight loitering in the hallway. Nosey motherfuckers. If they want to get in my damn business, the least they can do is help. Pulling out my wallet I grab a credit card. “Ace, Itchy,” I say not taking my eyes from the small bundle in Em’s arms. “Go to fucking Target or something and get some formula and diapers.”
“How the fuck do we know what to get?” I hear Ace say.
“I don’t know shit about babies,” Itchy adds.
“Just get one of everything,” I say shoving my credit card into Ace’s hand.
I look from Em and back into the room.
“Go,” she says softly. “I got him until they get back.”
I look up to see Dr. Davison coming down the hall. I nod at Em and show him into the room.
She still hasn’t woken up, and she doesn’t even flinch when he starts an IV and cleans up the incision on her lower stomach.
“What are you doing?” I ask with a growl when he lowers her pants while pressing rather hard on her
“Em,” I gasp as she runs into the room. “See if you can settle the baby down.”
With wide eyes, she looks at Misty passed out in my arms and then down to the wailing infant in the car seat.
“Please,” I beg, unsure of what I’m even asking for.
She nods as she reaches for the handle of the car seat. She picks the carrier up and begins cooing to the child, walking further into the house, getting him away from the situation unfolding right now.
If this were the battlefield, I’d have more control. I’d be able to assess the situation quickly and respond as needed, but I’m at a loss. I have no idea why she passed out. She looked extremely tired and worn out, but after just having a baby and traveling as far as she has in such a short period of time, I know there are other complications that may be at play here.
Kincaid is talking into the phone, relaying to the doctor the limited information that we have.
“Let’s get her to your room, man,” Kincaid says standing back to give me room. “Get her up off the floor.”
I scoop her near weightless body in my arms and walk toward my room. I can tell she’s breathing, and that is reassuring.
“She just had a C-section four days ago,” I say to Kincaid, who relays the information into the phone.
I watch as he nods his head, listening to what the doctor has to say.
He pulls the phone slightly away from his mouth. “He says to check the incision for infection.”
I settle her on my bed and carefully pull her t-shirt up and the elastic to her sweats down.
“Fuck,” I say on a hiss. “It’s open in a few spots and red as hell,” I say to Kincaid, who’s looking over my shoulder to see for himself.
“It’s infected,” he says to the doctor. He listens for a little bit longer then says his goodbyes. “He’ll be here shortly.”
I get up from the bed and head into the bathroom for a cold wash rag. I could feel how hot and feverish she was when I carried her into the room.
I ring most of the water from the rag and walk back over and sit beside her. I run the cloth over her forehead and down her neck.
“He doesn’t think we need an ambulance?” I finally say, growing nervous by the minute when she doesn’t wake up or even stir at the brush of the cold cloth on her skin.
“He said since she’s breathing, he doesn’t feel like it’s necessary.” He looks down at her and angles his head oddly. “She doesn’t seem to be hemorrhaging.”
I look down between her legs and don’t see any blood. I roll her body over slightly and look under her. I didn’t even consider that as a possibility. I’m too close to this whole thing to remain objective.
I hear the baby crying before Em makes it to my doorway. I turn my head and see her rocking him gently, trying unsuccessfully to calm him down.
I stand from Misty’s side and walk to the door. I step out into the hallway and see every damn fucker that’s here tonight loitering in the hallway. Nosey motherfuckers. If they want to get in my damn business, the least they can do is help. Pulling out my wallet I grab a credit card. “Ace, Itchy,” I say not taking my eyes from the small bundle in Em’s arms. “Go to fucking Target or something and get some formula and diapers.”
“How the fuck do we know what to get?” I hear Ace say.
“I don’t know shit about babies,” Itchy adds.
“Just get one of everything,” I say shoving my credit card into Ace’s hand.
I look from Em and back into the room.
“Go,” she says softly. “I got him until they get back.”
I look up to see Dr. Davison coming down the hall. I nod at Em and show him into the room.
She still hasn’t woken up, and she doesn’t even flinch when he starts an IV and cleans up the incision on her lower stomach.
“What are you doing?” I ask with a growl when he lowers her pants while pressing rather hard on her
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