Girls in Trouble Read Free

breathing,” the nurse admonished. The scream tore into the room again and Sara was so frightened, her breath stopped. “Breathe, I told you,” the nurse repeated.
    The woman next door shrieked again. “Is she dying?” Sara asked.
    The nurse tightened the monitor belt. “That woman’s Orthodox Jewish and she won’t take any medication.”
    “What medication? Give me some medication!” Sara screamed, a wire of pain cutting across her belly. The Orthodox woman screamed in harmony.
    The nurse took a blood pressure cuff and wrapped it calmly around Sara’s arm. “The doctor will be here any second. Now you
breathe
.”
    Sara panicked. Her mind was so fogged with fear and pain, she had forgotten everything she knew. The breathing Eva had helped her with. The lucky charm George had given her to keep in her pocket, a small silvery angel she loved. Where was the charm? Where were they? She needed them. She looked desperately at the door.
    “Concentrate, Sara,” Abby said. “Every time you get a contraction, focus on me.”
    The nurse glanced at Sara and then, resigned, she gripped Sara’s hand. “Purse your lips,” she ordered. “Pant. Hoo-hoo hee-hee.” Sara tried it, but the nurse’s face was smooth and calm, and Sara’s felt as if it were crumpled like a ball of paper. “Hoo-hoo,” panted Abby encouragingly. Jack leaned against the wall, closing his eyes, defeated, and then there was a new fist of pain, and Sara bolted up. “Hoo-hoo, hee-hee,” the nurse urged.
    “Get her an epidural!” Abby said, her voice growing insistent. The nurse ignored Abby. “Get her something! What’s the matter with you!” Abby said, and the nurse looked at the monitor again and her face turned soft, sympathetic. “It’s too late,” the nurse said.
    Abby moved closer to Sara, brushing back Sara’s wet hair. “I’m right here,” Abby said to Sara. She made low, soothing noises, clucks of her tongue. “I’m right here.”
    The nurse glanced at Sara’s chart, frowning. Then she looked evenly at Jack and Abby. “So. You’re going in the delivery room? You’re the adoptive parents?”
    “We’re the
real
parents,” Abby said. “Sara’s real parents.” She held Sara’s hand.
    A doctor Sara didn’t know whisked in, six younger people behind him, all of them in green scrubs. “Where’s my doctor?” Sara said. Her doctor was a woman, young and sympathetic. This doctor was male and older and had a blue Band-Aid on his nose, a bad omen if she ever saw one.
    “In delivery. I’m Dr. Chasen. Don’t you worry, I’ve delivered hundreds of babies.”
    “No, no,” Sara cried. She didn’t trust this doctor, didn’t like the way he was beckoning the other people forward. “Check the centimeters,” he said to them, and Sara locked her legs as another pain shot through her. “What’s going on?” Abby said. “Who are all these people?”
    “This is a teaching hospital,” Dr. Chasen said quietly. He put his hands on Sara’s legs. “Don’t worry. You won’t even notice them. You’re going to be so busy, a flying saucer could land in here with us and you wouldn’t notice that either.” The students laughed, a sparkling of sound, and then Dr. Chasen parted Sara’s legs and quickly, before she could protest, thrust his hand up inside of her and drew it out. Humiliated, she jerked away. “You’re going to have your baby now,” he said, then he turned to the nurse. “Get my girl into delivery,” he said, and Sara shivered because she didn’t feel like anyone’s girl, not his, not her parents’, not Danny’s anymore, either. He whisked out of the room, the students trailing.
    “It’s going to be okay, honey,” Abby said.
    “Where’s Eva and George?” Sara screamed and Jack drew back.
    Abby was purposefully putting on a long green gown, tying on a mask. Someone was pushing Sara’s hair into a cap. Hands and bodies were about her. “It’s showtime, folks,” said the nurse, undoing Sara’s