Chapter Four

ED Physician Note – Dr. Monica McGregor

Leila Whitmore

MR 687329

DOB - 05/30/1989

Chief Complaint: fainting

History of Present Illness: Leila is a 28yo white female now 29 wks pregnant who presents to the ED with her husband after a fainting spell at home. Patient arrived via private car. She reports feeling dizzy then found herself on the ground. She has no memory of the event. Husband reports LOC for about 30 sec. No reported seizure-like activity. She awoke with c/o nausea but seemed to be alert and appropriately responsive. She last felt baby move on the way to the hospital,  no bleeding, no abdominal pain or contractions, no fever, no leakage of fluids. Patient reports doing yoga this morning followed by intimate activities with her husband, while lying on her back. She reportedly had a light breakfast and skipped lunch.

Past Medical History: healthy 28yo. First pregnancy. Prenatal care with Dr. Clarkson since 8 wks of pregnancy.

––––––––

Assessment: 28yo white female now 29 weeks pregnant with brief LOC earlier today. Her LOC most likely due to a combination of lying on her back, mild dehydration and over-exertion. She will be admitted to the OB service for monitoring for possible early labor.

~

"My poor baby!"

You'd think from my mother's wail—this gut wrenching, high pitched sob that filled the room—that IVs snaked all over my body and I was bandaged from head to toe, barely clinging to life. In reality, I was nestled in a bed that was almost as comfortable as my bed back home, and I only had one IV for fluids and a monitor that beeped, checking my vitals and the baby's. We were both fine, holed up in a birthing suite that almost made me feel like I was on some lush getaway, minus the nurses that cycled in and out during their shift.

Well, that and the fact that my husband is glowering from the far corner of the room instead of snuggled on bed beside me.

It made sense, because my mother had spent the past hour on the phone with him, calling him everything but a child of God. I couldn't make out the full extent of her curse word vocabulary, but when Jacob's angular face went from terse to 'If you don't take this phone, I'm gonna lose it', I could fill in the blanks.

I’d taken the phone before the shaky truce the two of them had agreed to for the sake of me and the baby was broken, trying to assure her that I was okay. Okay enough that Jacob drove me to the hospital. That earned me a similar wail as she told my dad to turn off Law and Order, because they had to get to the city.

That's what I tried to cling to: my parents loved me enough to drop everything, including Jack McCoy and the gang, to make sure me and the baby were okay.

I frowned, craning my head past the whirlwind that was Cheryl Montgomery to focus on the door, looking for her better half. The voice of reason. "Where's Dad?"

That garnered a hiss of disappointment as she reared back like I slapped her. "I rush over here, looking a mess...”

She didn't, by the way. Somewhere in between the wise cracks of the detectives and the call from Jacob, she'd managed to pile her salt and pepper hair into an up-do that made her look like she was headed to a gala, not a hospital. Her body was draped in a rose colored dress with a sheer black scarf fashionably tied around her neck. And since she was looming over me at an unnatural angle, she'd clearly polished the look off with some heels.

But I didn't comment on any of that, because the last thing I wanted was a guilt trip. Besides, she looked beautiful, despite the ugly glare she was hurling my way. Eviscerating me with brown eyes that looked like mine. Cutting to the bone with a look so lethal that I was surprised the machines weren't calling for medical assistance.

“...To this Hotel Hospital thing you've got going on," she continued with a huff. "Is this place even a real hospital?"

She was clearly on the warpath, and if I wasn't already in bed, I would have gotten out of her way. She marched back to the door and yanked it open, letting out a 'aha!' before she spun around to face me. "Where's the clunky door that wakes you up if you're fortunate enough to fall asleep?" The door barely made a whisper as it gently clicked shut. She pointed a French tip nail at the flat screen tv affixed to the wall and drew a line, stopping when she hit the microsuede mini sectional where Jacob was biting his tongue. "I'm no billionaire, but the last time I was in the hospital, there was no lounge area in the room. The lounge area that was available to us poor folks made standing up seem really appealing."

"Thanks for stopping by, Mom!" I decided to stop her before she started talking about the bed and the lack of those awkward retractable arms with the buttons that did God knows what, and the lack of paper thin, dingy linens. I'd meant to say something a little less obvious than 'please leave’. Something with a little more finesse to exemplify that while mommy and baby were fine, a brawl in my hospital room was definitely not.

I cringed as my dismissal hung in the air, but I was brave enough to meet her head on and not shy away from her narrowed glare. It helped that I knew Jacob had my back, ready to step in the minute she veered back toward The Epic Guilt Trip.

She surprised us both by inhaling all the tension-filled air in the room, then exhaling. "I come in peace."

Jacob and I raised our eyebrows in unison.

My mother raised her hands in surrender. "I'm sorry I stormed in here raising Cain, but when I heard my baby and my grand baby are in danger-"

"Danger?" Jacob interrupted, eyes flashing. "At my hand, no doubt."

I didn't have the energy to flash my eyes, so I just rolled them to the ceiling. "C'mon, you two. Can we all agree that this is a sucky situation that could be worse?"

"You're in the hospital, Leila," my mother rebutted, dropping her hands and her white flag. "Can we all agree that my extremely pregnant daughter ending up in the hospital is a terrifying thing?"

I opened my mouth to give her an inch, remembering how terrified I was when I gripped my belly. Praying. Waiting for a kick or shifting or anything that would tell me that the most precious thing in my life hadn’t been taken away.

I glanced at Jacob, forcing my lips to relax. As I watched the battle lines in his face soften, the will to fight and get the last word evaporate, I realized that both of us had geared up for a fight before my mother took a step in the room. It would have been easy to blame it on my mother's ornery phone call, but there were other things to point a finger at. Or better yet, we could swipe a mirror and take a hard look at ourselves. Did Jacob think this was his fault, so any hint of blame coming from my mother made him raise his hackles? Was I trying to rush her out of here because I felt like recent events were all over my face? Events like secretly helping out with the junket when I was supposed to be on leave, prenatal yoga, and BDSM flavored sex? My OB had asked, no, told me to take it easy. There was a reason I didn't truly start breathing again until I heard the heartbeat.

My mother was the last to put down her metaphorical arms, slowly gravitating to the bed and giving my foot a squeeze. The squeeze came with a scowl at first, as her fingers gripped the decadent sheets, but it ended with her flavor of tough love. The emotion that filled her dark eyes, pulling me in, put things back in focus. That’s what this was about—love. We were all here and dialed up because we cared about each other.

Love was what I felt when I answered her question. "Landing in the hospital is freaking terrifying—and—I’m so glad that you guys are here with me."

The tears that were swimming in her eyes dashed down her cheeks as she let go of my foot and reached for my stomach instead. I couldn't blame my blurred vision on anything but tears of my own as she leaned in close and whispered something to the little one. I picked up on a handful of the words.

Love.

Soon.

Safe.

What more could our baby hope for than a grandma who whispered sweet nothings to them in the womb? What more could I ask for than a mother who drove me utterly crazy but showed up, no matter what, time after time?

I grinned through the discomfort as she wrapped her arms around my neck and squeezed me so hard that she put a whole new spin on 'love you to death'.

She let me go and I took a breath, swiping my eyes. I could tell from the way her lips slightly parted that she was waiting for me to fill in the blanks. The question in her silence that would have made lesser men blush, but my husband was just keeping his distance, not wanting to touch the subject of 'why' with a ten foot pole.

I cut my eyes at him, making a mental note to comment on the fact that women were truly the strongest beings every created. We pushed tiny humans out of our bodies. We answered our mother's prying questions while our mates—able to slay tigers, build fires and provide (but heck, we could slay tigers, slam two rocks together and take care of business ourselves)—were rendered utterly speechless by their mother-in-laws.

There was no way I was gonna tell her the whole truth and nothing but the truth, but I figured a vague, overarching answer that pointed the finger at myself would suffice.

"I fainted because I've been overdoing it, Mom." I shrugged my shoulders. "Must be that stubborn Montgomery DNA."

She clucked her tongue disapprovingly, wagging her finger at me. "Leila Rae Montgomery, you do not get to blame this on genetics. You can't think about yourself anymore. There's the baby-"

"I know there's the baby," I protested, wishing I'd just kept my mouth shut. And from her razor thin lips, she didn't appreciate the interruption.

"Uh huh," she picked up where she left off, walking over to the lounge area. To Jacob. Clearly, he wasn't off the hook either. "And you. You're supposed to be making sure she takes it easy! And not at this..." She threw her hands up as she struggled to come up with the words. "This Club Med place. And where is the doctor? I want to hear all is well directly from the horse's mouth."

She was in Jacob's orbit, which could be a good or bad thing. I was surprised my blood pressure wasn't sending the full staff in the room. I was so on edge, waiting for him to snap at her, which would get her riled up all over again, and leave me stuck in the middle.

When Jacob spoke, telling my mother it was gonna be okay, his voice was gentle as the nurse's had been when we burst through the revolving doors of the emergency room. I was pulled back to those moments, cradled in his arms, both of us instantly forgetting that I was feeling okay when we were surrounded by the craziness that is the ER. Wailing babies that made me stroke my belly, trying to comfort my own before it even took its first breath. Harried medical staff with frantic and jerky movements, calling out codes and medical jargon that made my head spin. Families biting their nails as they waited for news about their loved ones.

And then a nurse had appeared out of the chaos, literally rocking a halo because of the glow of the fluorescent lights overhead. When her baby blue eyes flitted from my face to Jacob's a couple of times, our identities clicking in place, I’d rolled my eyes to the ceiling, silently offering up my second prayer in less than 24 hours.

Please don't be a fan of PR, Jacob doesn't have a free hand to give you an autograph.

But the words out of her mouth weren't, "You're The Whitmores, aren't you?!"

If she did recognize us, all signs of it were scrubbed from her face quickly as she hustled to the admissions desk and pushed a wheelchair back to us.

"Everything is going to be okay," she’d assured us, her tone almost out of place in the sea of madness. But there was something in her eyes that reminded me to breathe in and out. Something that convinced me that it wasn't just a line she fed to people, whether the outlook was grim or not.

I gave my head a hearty shake, wrenching my mind from those terrifying moments.

Back to the room. Back to safety. Back to now.

I cocked my head to the side, like I was a researcher observing unnatural phenomena unfold before my very eyes. Jacob and my mother were standing side by side, and their faces weren't pinched like it was taking everything in them not to lose it.

They were...smiling.

"...we had this amazing nurse when we arrived," Jacob's deep voice rumbled back into focus. "She made sure we didn't get lost in the shuffle-"

"And the doctor?" Mom piped. "Hopefully she gave Leila a stern talking to about overdoing it. Not that she'd listen to her or anyone else." She nudged Jacob with her elbow, giving him a conspiratorial wink that reminded me of when they first met and she was her usual, larger than life self. It made me smile.

"Dr. McGregor did her best, but even a doctor's admonishment barely got an apology from your daughter," Jacob chuckled, glancing over in my direction with love gleaming in his eyes. Giving me a look that took me back to our honeymoon.

I stuck my tongue out at both of them, tapping out a lazy rhythm on my belly that reminded me of the island. A song drenched in pina colada, ukuleles, sunscreen, and love.

How did I get so lucky?