Love Inspired March 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: North Country Family\Small-Town Midwife\Protecting the Widow's Heart (33 page)

“How fast did your son come?”

Christie turned at Jon's question. “In about six hours. My doctor said that was quick for a first baby.”

Jon's eyes narrowed. He was probably calculating the time needed to get Christie to either the Adirondack Medical Center hospital or Albany Medical Center. If it were her call, she'd choose Albany Med, even though Adirondack was an hour away and Albany was two. Albany had one of the largest and most sophisticated neonatal intensive care units in the East.

“Did you call your doctor?” Autumn asked.

“I talked to him before I called your dad. He asked me if I could get to the hospital in Albany. I told him my transportation situation and that I knew you, that you're a midwife here at the birthing center. His office called the birthing center.”

“I talked with Christie's obstetrician while she was getting signed in and her vitals checked,” Jon said.

So Jon already knew all the things she'd been asking Christie, except how fast her last birth was. The surprise on his face had been plain when Christie had said six hours.

“Her doctor wants us to have Christie transported to Albany. He's making the referral. Would you call the emergency services and arrange it? You can use the phone in my office. It's open.”

Before Autumn could answer, Christie doubled over and wrapped her arms around her stomach.

Jon looked at his watch, obviously checking the time since her last contraction. He eyed the electronic fetal monitor.

Christie straightened. “I'm okay,” she said before Autumn or Jon could ask.

“I'll be right back,” Autumn said. She'd let Jon decide whether to put Christie on the monitor. This was his birth.

“I'll walk out with you,” her grandmother said. “Christie, we'll all be thinking about you and the baby.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hazard.”

Once they got into the hall, Autumn cracked. “Gram, what if something goes wrong, bad, like with Suzy? I couldn't handle that, not again.”

Her grandmother hugged her. “You're not alone. You have Jon and the medical people in Albany to take over. That is, if you get her to Albany. Don't you have a call to make?”

Autumn pulled back from her grandmother's embrace. “Right, the ambulance service.”

“I'll get the church prayer chain going for Christie and the baby and for you and Jon.”

“You're the best, Gram.”

* * *

Jon jotted a note in his pad while he waited for Autumn to return. Christie was on the phone with her husband, asking him to meet them at the Albany Medical Center. He glanced at the doorway. Where was she?

“Sorry I took so long.” Autumn stood at the door motioning him out.

“What?” he asked, closing the suite door behind him.

“There's a big pileup on the Northway. I couldn't get any ambulance service. Ticonderoga, Moriah and Schroon Lake have all responded, so they're not available. Elizabethtown is on standby. They can't go to Albany.”

He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, running through his options. Letting anything happen to mother or baby weren't among them. They could wait until transportation was available, calling in one of the local pediatricians if they had to deliver here. He and Autumn could drive Christie to Saranac Lake, where the facility was a little better equipped for a premature baby. Saranac could air transport to Albany later, if necessary. Or... He pushed away from the wall.

“We're going to have to transport Christie to Albany ourselves.”

Autumn paled.

“It's our best option. We can get there in two hours. She won't have the baby before then,” he said with a certainty he didn't feel. Babies followed their own time schedule.

“I could try one of the emergency squads south of here. It would take them a while to get here, but they probably weren't called to the accident.”

“No, the best plan is for us to take her. In your car. It's bigger. Do you have gas?”

“I filled up yesterday.”

“We can do this. I'll get the equipment. You go tell Christie what we're doing. If it gets dicey, we can go to the Glens Falls hospital. Glens Falls is, what, about halfway to Albany?”

“Yes.” Autumn pushed her hair behind her ears. “We could make Glens Falls.”

“Of course we can.” He paused. “That accident isn't on the south side of the Northway, is it?”

“I don't know. I was so frustrated with none of the ambulances being available that I didn't ask.” She swallowed her fear. If the route south was blocked, they could be in big trouble.

Chapter Thirteen

C
ars were backed up miles for the accident, which fortunately was on the north side of the Northway. Jon sped by them, acutely aware of Autumn and Christie talking in the backseat. Their words were punctuated every so often by a quiet groan or quick intake of breath by Christie. He timed the groans by the dashboard clock.

“Glens Falls is the next exit. How are we doing?”

“Fine,” Christie said. “The contractions are sharper, but no closer together.”

“I know. I've been timing them,” Jon said.

Christie laughed. “So has Autumn.”

He wasn't surprised. When it came to practicing obstetrics, he and Autumn had a lot in common. Maybe in other ways, too. But since he didn't plan to stay in the North Country, it wouldn't be fair to Autumn to find out, as much as he might want to.

“We're good for Albany, then?” Jon caught Christie nodding in the rearview mirror.

“All systems go,” Autumn replied. “As long as the contractions don't start coming too fast.”

Twenty minutes later, Christie let out a sharp, “Ouch.” She gasped. “They're getting stronger.”

Jon checked the clock.
And closer.

“We're only a half hour, forty minutes tops, away from Albany Med,” Autumn said in a soothing voice. “Right, Jon?”

“Right.” He pressed the gas pedal harder and increased their speed another five miles an hour. The hint of a quiver he heard in Autumn's question had increased the pounding of his heart. He breathed deeply. He'd delivered premature babies before and hadn't lost one of them. They were minutes away from a state-of-the-art medical facility, not in rural Haiti. He cleared his throat. Angie always came first in his thoughts when he faced a challenging birth.

“Jon.”

Autumn didn't have to finish her sentence. He saw the state police car with its flashing lights and pulled over.

“Officer.” He handed over his license and car registration. “I'm Dr. Hanlon. We're transporting a woman in labor to Albany Med from the Ticonderoga Birthing Center. The local ambulances were all tied up with that accident on the Northway.”

The officer looked in the backseat, where Christie was gripping Autumn's hand with white knuckles as another contraction racked her. “You should have called it in, Dr. Hanlon. Go ahead. You'll be good to the medical center.” He waved them off, and Jon merged back into traffic.

“Autumn, call the medical center and let them know we'll be there within the half hour, so they'll be ready for Christie.”

“They're on alert,” she said after she clicked off the call.

When they arrived at Albany Med, a team from The Birth Place and Children's Hospital descended on them as they helped Christie into the facility. They had her on a gurney and whisked off before he'd finished talking with the attending physician Christie's doctor had referred her to.

That was close. Jon blew out a quick breath to regain his mental balance and returned to where Autumn was standing. “They're in good hands. Albany has a top-rated NICU.”

Autumn clasped her hands, concern still etched in her face.

“She'll be fine,” Jon reassured her.

“I'd like to stay until the baby is born. If you need to get back to Paradox Lake, I'll get a hotel room for the night.”

“Of course we'll stay.” Autumn had worked with him enough at Samaritan to know he always saw things through. A pang of old guilt pierced him. Work things. He hadn't been as conscientious with his social life. He'd tended to let people think what they chose to think rather than tying up any loose ends for them.

“Thanks for staying with me. I'm sure Christie's husband would let Dad know tomorrow when he came by for Connor. But I can't sleep tonight not knowing.”

Part of Jon knew he should correct Autumn's assumption that he was staying for her. It was as much for him as for Autumn. The other part of him liked giving the impression that he cared enough for her to stay because she wanted him to. It was easier than putting how he was starting to feel about her into words she could reject. “I wouldn't be able to sleep, either,” he said.

Autumn's smile warmed him head to toe.

“I don't know about you, but I'm hungry. We could grab something in the cafeteria and eat it in The Birth Place waiting room,” she said.

“Sounds good to me. I'll treat.”

“You don't have to.”

“What if I want to?”

Several expressions chased each other across her face, all of which warmed him further. “Then I'll let you,” she conceded.

* * *

Over the next few hours, Jon and Autumn paced the waiting room—sometimes solo, sometimes together—and hit the coffee machine in the hall for refills, which did nothing good for their growing tension.

Autumn checked her watch. “Didn't Christie say her labor was only six hours with Connor?”

Jon stopped midpace. “Yeah. From my experience, this baby should have come faster, especially since it's early.”

“
She's
early,” Autumn said.

He ignored the edge to her correction. “I asked the attending to have someone let us know after the birth.”

“And I told Christie I would stay. She said she'd have her husband come and tell us how the baby was.”

They looked at each other, the wall clock ticking off another minute.

“It has to have been six hours or more since Christie went into labor,” Autumn said. “I'll go make sure the nurses know we're here.” She turned and left.

He dropped into the closest chair and held his head in his hands. The nursing shift would have changed since they'd arrived. If they were really busy today, the outgoing nurses could have forgotten to tell the incoming ones. He wanted to believe that was the case. The only other reason he could come up with was that there were complications prolonging the labor or—he swallowed—Christie's husband wasn't in any shape to come and talk with them.

A few minutes later, Jon sensed, rather than heard, Autumn return. He lifted his head.

“No baby yet,” she said. “And they know we're here.” She raised her hands, which had an insulated paper cup in each. “I got us refills.”

His stomach churned. He didn't think he could swallow another mouthful of coffee.

“It's not from the machine.”

His face must have given his thoughts away.

“I got the good stuff, fresh brewed, from the nurses' lounge.”

He accepted the cup and took a sip. “Not bad.” While the brew was a lot better than the coffee from the machine, it still hit his stomach like a rock.

Autumn settled in the chair next to him and lifted her cup to her lips. “What?” she said when she lowered it.

“Pardon?”

“You were staring at me.”

He dropped his gaze to the cup he held in both hands on his lap.

“You're as worried as I am, aren't you?” she asked.

Jon's first reaction was denial. Hanlon men didn't admit fear or second-guess their decisions. But he
was
concerned. He'd expected the birth to go much faster. What had he missed? He'd gone over their actions several times while he was waiting for Autumn to return. “We could have had her airlifted here. But I didn't see a need.”

“And the accident on the Northway would have had the priority on those services, as it did with the local ambulance services,” Autumn said. “You're not infallible. You can't see everything.”

But I'm supposed to be, or as close as possible.
He lifted his head. Her light blue eyes shimmered with moisture. “What is it?” he asked.

“I had a mother who had a placenta percreta. The placenta had grown through her uterus. I didn't catch it during her prenatal care. The worst happened during the birth.”

He swallowed, waiting for her to say she'd lost the mother.

“She can't have any more children.”

“But she and the baby were okay.”

She nodded. “They're close friends of mine.” Her voice cracked. “We went to high school together. They wanted a houseful of kids. Now they can't have that, and it's my fault.” Her free hand gripped the armrest between them.

He covered her hand with his. “Is that why you've given up delivering babies?” he asked, second-guessing himself again as he wondered whether he should have kept his question to himself. She looked so fragile. He didn't want to pressure her.

“Yes.” Her answer was barely audible. “You're the only one I've told besides Jamie and Kelly.”

His breath caught.
Not even her family?

“They saw me fail. I had to tell them.”

But she didn't have to tell him. She'd chosen to. His heart swelled.

“During my next birth, I froze when the mother reached late labor. I had to send Jamie to get Kelly. It was awful.” Autumn wiped tears from her cheeks with the palms of her hands. “Fortunately, it was at the center, and Kelly was in the office. I said I was ill and left. I can't take the responsibility, can't do it anymore.”

Jon massaged her hand with his thumb. He wanted to tell her “yes, you can.” He'd seen her at work at the center, at Lisa Kent's delivery. But he knew no words could fix what was inside her. She, with the help of God, would have to do that herself.

“Do you want to pray?” he asked.

“Yes, for Christie and the baby.” She turned her hand and grasped his.

The squeeze of her fingers calmed his jangled nerves. “Dear Lord. We ask You to be with Christie, to watch over her and to protect her life and the life of her baby.”
And with Autumn to help her overcome her fears so she can be the midwife she wants to be, was meant to be,
he added silently. It wasn't eloquent, but it didn't need to be. The loving God he was growing to know wouldn't care what words he used.

“Amen,” Autumn said, leaving her hand clasped in his until the sound of footsteps in the hall outside the room yanked them both from their reflective silence.

She jumped to her feet as a very tired-looking man entered the waiting room.

“Autumn?” he said.

“Yes.” The word came out with a whoosh.

“Christie said you'd be here waiting. And Dr. Hanlon.”

The man must be Christie's husband.
Jon closed the space between him and Autumn in one stride and clamped his jaw shut to let the man speak at his own speed.

“How are they?” Autumn rolled forward and back on the balls of her feet as if she couldn't contain the pent-up energy that radiated from her.

The fatigue lines bracketing Christie's husband's mouth deepened. Jon tensed, wanting and fearing to hear his next words.

“They're both fine, except for the baby's nose. She came faceup and her nose was pushed over. The doctor said they'd tape it in place and it would be good as new tomorrow.”

“How much does she weigh?” Jon asked. The nose was nothing. The doctor would have snapped the soft cartilage in place and that would be that.

“Five pounds, fourteen ounces. Nineteen inches long.”

“That's a good size for a late preterm baby,” Jon said.

“The pediatrician said Christie's due date might have been off.”

“The baby's lungs?” Autumn shot out.

“No apparent problems. She came out squalling, loud and angry.”

“I'm so glad,” Autumn said. “Christie will be going home to Poughkeepsie?”

“Yes, as soon as the pediatrician releases the baby. Hopefully by the end of the week.”

“Ask Christie to give me a call before she goes home. She has my number now.”

“I will.”

“And will we see you at the lake next summer?”

“Maybe even this fall for the vacation we missed out on this week, if the house is available.”

“I'm sure that would be fine. Talk to Dad when you pick Connor up. I'll look forward to seeing you all then.”

“I'm going to get back to Christie. They're setting me up to bunk in her room.”

“Nice meeting you,” Jon said. “Maybe I'll see you when you're up in the fall, too.”

Christie's husband left the waiting room and Autumn turned to Jon. They stared at each other for a moment before Autumn threw her arms around him in a hug. Her relief fueled his in an electric charge that first held them in a motionless embrace and then pushed them apart with a force as strong as the one that had drawn them together.

“I'm so glad everything turned out as well as it did,” she said, stepping back to widen the space between them.

He reached for her hands and held them in his. “Me, too.” It had felt good to share his fears and relief, even if his words weren't actually saying that.

“Christie and the baby had to be okay. I couldn't be responsible for another friend's...” Her voice broke. “Tragedy.”

The stark pain on her face tore his heart, so he did the only thing he could to relieve it. He pulled her hands and stepped toward her. Bending his head, he pressed his lips to hers to kiss her with all of the feelings that had been building inside him since that first evening when he'd toured the birthing center. When her grip on his hands relaxed, he lifted his head.

His heart ached to comfort her more. “You have to stop blaming yourself. It's God who has control over birth and death. We're only His instruments. That's why I'm an obstetrician. So He can use me to bring care to women who need my care, women like my cousin Angie.”

Autumn blinked at him in confusion.

He rushed on to explain what he'd never explained to anyone else, not even Nana when she'd supported his choice of medical specialty, although he suspected she had a good idea that he'd chosen obstetrics because of Angie. “Angie was a missionary in Haiti. She had complications after she went into labor and there was no doctor to help. She couldn't get the care she needed.”