Izzy did want him there, or, rather, wanted someone in the room with her, but she could not imagine the embarrassment of his presence when her private parts were exposed. “I’ll be okay,” she said, and tried to smile, but it was difficult since she was grinding her teeth so hard.
“You’ll be okay,” he said to her, and he squeezed her shoulders. The nurse led her to a room and helped her get into her robe. “That baby is coming, isn’t it?” the nurse asked, and Izzy could only nod. “I’m a little scared,” she admitted.
“Let’s get you comfortable and you’ll be less scared, I promise. The doctor has been alerted and she’ll be here soon.”
“She? My doctor is Dr. Kirwin.”
“He’s not on duty tonight. Dr. Starling is. She’s very good, very capable. You’ll love her.”
It was a strange relief that, in her most vulnerable moment, Dr. Kirwin would not be present, that she might have this baby without a single comment about her hospitable womb or questions about her work toward finding a new boyfriend. She lay back on the bed and let the pain run through her, so intense that she felt it in her hair, in her toenails, in her rapidly beating heart. And then, good lord, all the pain was in her back and she grabbed on to the sheets underneath her and she wished that she had two tongues in her mouth so that she could go ahead and bite one of them off.
She wished Hal were still alive, if only for him to be present in this moment. She wanted to be on a team, to be a part of something, so that she could say, “I’m scared,” or “This hurts,” and someone who loved her would reply, “I’m scared, too,” or “It will be over soon.” She wished it wasn’t so, but all she felt when she pictured him, sheepishly handsome and promising her all manner of good things, was disappointment and anger. There was no room left over for grieving. He was gone and she could not bring him back and, even if she could, he probably wouldn’t have been in this room anyway. She got out her cell phone and sent a text message to Dr. Kwon that read having baby, the best she could do under the circumstances. She wondered when Dr. Kwon would see the message, if everyone in the complex was fast asleep with their children already in their arms. Or their children in someone else’s arms; she imagined a huge heap of bodies, with Dr. Grind at the bottom, all of them holding on to each other like a hurricane was coming. And then another contraction hit her in the spine and she cried out a little and a nurse helped her stand so that she could try to evenly distribute the pain. “Baby, baby, baby, baby,” she wheezed, the easiest mantra, and the nurse, who had a heavy Eastern European accent, said, “Not much longer now, darling.”
The doctor finally showed up, the tiniest woman Izzy had ever seen pass for an adult. She was dressed in workout clothes, her eyebrows perpetually raised as if she didn’t know whether Izzy was aware of the fact that she was having a baby. Dr. Starling put on a pair of gloves and Izzy allowed herself to be examined and, a few seconds later, the doctor poked her head back up and said, “This baby is almost here, okay? You are very lucky. This is going to be so easy.”
“It does not feel easy at all,” Izzy said, and the doctor raised her eyebrows again, smiled, and said, “Easier than it could have been.”