Molly never gave much thought as to whether or not she wanted to have children someday. She had only done a few delivery shifts, but each one was burned in her memory as equally beautiful and traumatic. Lisa was a nice enough woman during the checkups, but prolonged intense physical torture tended to transform even the sweetest soul into a snorting, writhing maniac. Lisa growled and grunted while Molly tried to keep a calm and reassuring expression for her to focus on. Lisa’s husband was out of town on business, and was desperately trying to catch a flight back. Short of a time-space continuum, he would not make it for the grand entry of his son.
Translating was easier for Lisa, because she spoke quite clearly on her own, so Molly was able to maintain her silence. As the hours wore on, the situation grew more and more distressing. The baby was breech, so the birthing process became a bit more complicated. Molly was sweating, and sorely wished she had eaten that morning. There were no breaks when no one was there to take your place. If Lisa couldn’t tap out, neither could Molly.
She was glad Lisa could not hear the worry in the doctors’ voices when they found that the umbilical cord was wrapped around the baby’s neck. They spoke behind paper masks, so she couldn’t read their lips, either. As quick as she could, Molly relayed the doctor’s explanation that they were going to have to do an emergency C-section.
She talked Lisa down with rapidly moving fingers, so the patient didn’t completely jump ship on what little bits of determination she had left.
The calm face Molly worked so hard to conjure was quickly hidden beneath a surgical mask. She scrubbed in and stayed near the conscious woman’s head as Lisa was numbed from mid-spine down.
She should not have looked, but the sight of the scalpel caught her eye. She unwittingly watched as the woman was unzipped at the navel, and the contents of her body exposed to the air. Molly had dissected pigs, frogs, and even cadavers when she was studying for her Master’s in Biochemical Engineering. Watching a human covered in grape jelly chunks emerge from his mother’s womb was a new experience entirely. She had only been witness to vaginal births, and for those, she stayed safely by the mother’s head.
Molly was thrilled. She was terrified. She was sweating. She was nauseous.
Since the father was not there, and Lisa knew Molly better than the house doctor or the attending nurses, she asked Molly to cut the cord. Her hands were normally adept, what with all the workout they got, but holding the scissors was a feat she trembled through.
The honor and wonder kept Molly from passing out into the woman’s open uterus, but only just. As soon as the whole ordeal was over, Molly went with Lisa into the recovery room and slumped down in a chair, waiting for the next moment she would need to translate. Her fingers were shaking so badly; she was not sure Lisa would be able to understand her very well. When the nurse asked Molly to hold the baby, she politely declined. It would not do well to drop the fragile newborn.
Doctor Hamilton came up for the postnatal visit, asking the usual questions and completing the examination with minimal hiccups. When Lisa was finally allowed visitors, Molly nearly broke down with relief when a relative showed up who spoke sign. The day had been such a whirlwind of tension. She had no concept of the time, only that she was tired and wanted to go home.
“Molly, are you alright?” Dr. Hamilton asked in a gentle voice. He was always considerate of the nurses and spoke respectfully to the patients. He was in his late thirties, but even the older doctors treated him with the respect he deserved.
Molly nodded, using the wall for support as she limped down to the elevators. Just a few more minutes, and she would be in the locker room, changed from her scrubs and ready to go home.
“What happened to your leg?” It was hard not to look good in a white doctor’s coat, but Dr. Hamilton turned the most eyes with his superman hair and perfect smile. He had always been nice to his subordinates, which was all that mattered to Molly.
Molly shook her head to indicate it was nothing. She shut herself in the elevator and gave him a wan smile before he could ask her another question.
She changed into her jeans with shaking hands, fumbling with the zipper of her jacket as she stumbled out the door, amazed that it was evening time. When she got into her car, she saw that she had missed seven texts from Liam and three from Nate. She could scarcely concentrate on the words; they all seemed to jumble together. She only saw the last text from Liam, asking her if she wanted him to come over tonight.
Come on over. Let yourself in. Spare key’s under a rock on the porch. I’ll be home in fifteen.
She did not have the energy to feel nervous at seeing Liam. She was only grateful there would be arms to collapse into.