afternoon, Monday, 14 May
Cuddy signed off on another report and neatly stacked it with the other paperwork on the corner of her desk. She was pleased with herself; she'd been extremely productive all day. She'd sorted through her email and cleared out all the outstanding notifications. She'd either finished or delegated every single file in her office. She'd even dusted
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"Yeah, might as well," he replied. "Maybe you can help me find space for all the baby junk. Also, I bought food, so I can throw something together and burn it if you want."
He let out a mild snort at that. So far he'd managed to make meals without burning anything or setting anything on fire, but the day could possibly come where he would. That wasn't going to go in his favour with the kid. Then again, that was what frozen and tinned food was for - people who were either too lazy to cook or just couldn't cook, period. Maybe he'd find a way to rope Wilson into cooking for him, the nights the kid was at his place.
When Cuddy told him to hang on, he rubbed the back of his head again before he cradled the phone to his ear with his shoulder while he leaned back into the car to have another go at pulling one of the other straps. Stupid thing. He was ready to step back and kick the car seat with his foot out of annoyance when Cuddy returned to him.
He hesitated, though. He frowned slightly at what could have possibly interrupted her but at her second 'oh', his face dropped into a deadpan look and he rolled his eyes. She was playing a trick on him - she'd told him she would, after he panicked the last time he thought she'd gone into labour. Well, he wasn't going to be fooled twice.
"Oh, please. I'm not falling for the 'I'm in labour' gag again."
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"Are you okay?" he asked, marching across the office.
"Shut up. I'm fine."
"No, I saw the look on your face...." Wilson stopped short as he came around the desk and looked at her. His gaze drifted downward to where her pants were wet from crotch to knee in an extremely unflattering way. His eyes went wide and he opened his mouth.
"Shut up," Cuddy said before Wilson could get another word out. He had a half-excited, half-terrified look on his face that normally she would've found amusing. Right now, it was nothing more than a distraction. She didn't need House panicking. She already knew House was on edge and if he heard Wilson flipping out over the phone, it would only tip him further into panic mode.
"Oh, my God," Wilson muttered, and she reached out and smacked him on the arm to make him behave.
"House," she said, clutching the phone tightly as she pressed it to her ear. "It's not a joke. My water just broke."
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Hearing Wilson's voice in the background gave him pause, though. House could hear him asking if Cuddy was okay, Cuddy snapping back for him to be quiet, and then again when he said something about her face. He heaved an impatient sigh, rubbing the back of his throbbing head again, and he just replied with a disbelieving 'uh-huh' when she said it wasn't a joke.
"Yeah, of course it's not," he retorted. He heard Wilson say something else in the background that sounded like, "Let me talk to House," followed by something to do with paging obstetrics. House began frowning again. Wilson actually sounded urgent and Cuddy sounded... well, intent on shutting Wilson up. And a little urgent, too. A lot urgent.
His frowned deepened even more when he heard Wilson exclaim, "I'll make sure he gets his ass down here. You need to get your ass upstairs." House swallowed, suddenly thinking that this may not be as big a joke as he originally thought.
He fought to suppress a burst of nerves at the distinct possibility that Cuddy might actually be telling the truth. "You know, normally when the pipes in my place break, I call a plumber," he said to Cuddy when she returned her attention to him on the phone again.
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"I'm fine. Everyone just shut up." She ignore both Wilson and the phone for a moment. The reality was starting to sink in...along with the amniotic fluid. She still felt almost numb with surprise but excitement was creeping in, along with a touch of fear. She needed to stay calm and focus on what she needed to do next. She didn't need House refusing to believe her or Wilson flapping his arms at her.
She pressed the phone to her ear again, just in time to hear House suggest she call a plumber. "I don't want any plumber getting his grubby hands on these pipes," she said. Then she shoved the phone at Wilson. "Here, you tell him."
"What are you going to do?" Wilson asked, staring at the phone as if it were a grenade. He was willing to do a lot for House, and Cuddy, but he wasn't sure he wanted to be the one to tell his friend he was in imminent danger of becoming a daddy. Normally, that would be a happy task but with House, it was never that simple.
"I'm going to find some dry clothes," Cuddy said.
"They'll just get wet again."
"I'm not walking through this hospital looking like I peed myself," Cuddy snapped. The baby's head would act like a cork. It wouldn't stop her from leaking completely but depending on the baby's position, it was possible she wouldn't have another huge gush of fluid. She just needed a few minutes to get to the labor and delivery unit. If she could stay dry that long, she didn't care what happened after.
She turned to go look in her bathroom. She usually kept a change of clothes there. At worst, she'd have Wilson get her a set of scrubs from the clinic. Before she took the second step, though, she spun back and snatched the phone from Wilson just as he lifted it to his ear.
"House, I need you to go by my place and get the overnight bag I have packed. It's on the floor of my closet. Then I need you to come here."
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He listened closely to the conversation between Wilson and Cuddy, glancing a little anxiously down one end of the street. So, what if this was the real deal? What if Cuddy's water had actually broken? House clenched jaw and then chewed on his bottom lip as his gaze grew absent with increasing unease. But it was too soon for the kid to writhe its way into the world. It wasn't due for around another week or so.
Just as he ran a nervous hand over his chin, he heard Cuddy's voice loud and clear in the phone again. A command for him to get her clothes and for him to go to the hospital. Okay, shit. She really wasn't joking. His stomach immediately seized up in a squirming coil of terror and he tried to swallow, only to find his breath had caught in his throat.
"O... okay," he replied quietly, absently, dumbfounded. Wilson's voice came loud and stern over the phone then, saying something about Cuddy or D-Day or some unintelligible garble that House couldn't make out because his ears had filled with a roaring white noise. His fight with the baby seat was forgotten. The dulling ache in the back of his head where he'd hit it had gone numb. His fingers and toes were tingling with the increase of his heart rate and his blood pressure. Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, what the fuck do I do now, was all he could think.
He forced himself to snap out of his stupor and realised Wilson was still talking on the end of the phone. Clothes, he thought to himself. First thing to do was get Cuddy's clothes. And then... well, fuck. Clothes, he told himself again. Just focus on getting the clothes. Yes. That was inane and simple enough. Clothes now, panic later.
Pulling the phone from his ear, he snapped it shut on Wilson still talking and he moved right into action, sprint-limping up the steps into his apartment. Inside, everything turned into panic mode, House limping wildly around the apartment and stumbling over furniture and his own feet while he grabbed the things he needed. Somehow, he made it back out of his apartment without crashing into anything, falling over or breaking something and once he was in the car, he fumbled around with his keys, dropping them once on the floor and cursing frantically. Finally, key in the ignition, he gunned the engine to life and squealed out of the parking spot and onto the road.
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The drive to the hospital was as fast as his trip to Cuddy's place had been, his hands gripping the wheel tight enough for his knuckles to pale out and his eyes wide and panic-stricken. His thoughts were a jumble of incoherencies, of Cuddy and the baby and everything related to both overlapping like waves being tossed around in a fierce storm. He made it to the hospital with only two near misses but no actual accidents. He parked on an angle in his parking space, grabbed Cuddy's bag and walked as fast as his bum leg would allow to the entrance.
When he reached the elevator, he pressed the button repeatedly until the doors opened. He attempted to draw in a calming breath but ended up rubbing a hand over his face frantically, only to discover he was bathed in sweat. He mopped his brow and his hairline with the hem of his shirt, then felt his stomach twist up again in further fear when the elevator reached the L&D floor. He burst out of the elevator and immediately spotted Wilson loitering in the corridor outside one of the rooms.
"Wow, you actually showed up," he greeted as House rushed towards him, looking like he'd seen a ghost. The armpits on his shirt were damp with sweat, his hair was a mess from the amount of times he'd nervously ran his hands through it and his face was glistening with perspiration. "I was wondering if I was going to have to bring the ropes and muzzles in order to drag you here myself."
"Cuddy in there?" he asked, nodding to the door. He hadn't really heard anything Wilson had said. He was too focused on what kind of terror lay lurking behind the door. At Wilson's affirmation, House shoved through the door and jerked to a stop once he was in the room, staring wide and wild-eyed at Cuddy.
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Cuddy nodded absently, trying to sort her jumbled thoughts into a logical order. The unpleasant feel of cold, wet fabric against her skin put fresh clothes at the top of her to-do list. "I need to change...but first I'd better notify...."
Wilson cut her off with a sharp wave of his hand. "If you want to change, go change. I'll page Dr. Patil and notify your assistant and anyone else who needs to know." He grabbed her desk phone and dialed into the paging system, shooing her away with his free hand.
Still feeling slightly disoriented, she locked herself in the bathroom. Luckily, there were a pair of plain black maternity pants she could change into. She stripped off her wet clothing and sat on the toilet to clean herself. Of course, just as she did that, there was another gush of fluid.
"Great," she sighed. On the one hand, she could easily see the amniotic fluid was clear as water, which is what it should look like. That was good news. On the other hand, she wondered if she was going to be able to make it to the L&D unit without looking like she'd wet herself.
"You're just going to make this as difficult as possible, aren't you? Just like your daddy," she told Junior while she used a small handtowel to dry herself. Wet pants was only part of the story. Junior had managed to flush her plan to stay home for the early stage of her labor right down the toilet. Ruptured membranes meant increased risk of infection which meant Patil would never allow her to leave the hospital.
Still, she was going to have a baby. Her. Lisa Cuddy. She was going to be a mother. Her heart started doing flip-flops at the very thought and she sternly told herself to calm down. This was no time to lose her grip and start acting like a Victorian virgin with the vapors. Although...if she were ever going to go all swoony, having a baby would be a good reason.
"Cuddy?" Wilson rapped on the door. "We should go up to labor and delivery."
"I should wait for House," she said, opening the door as she smoothed her shirt down over the clean pants.
"Ah...no," Wilson said firmly. He took her hand and hooked it around his arm. "You should go upstairs. House will know where to find you."
"I'm not going to give birth in the next ten minutes. I can wait," she argued. She let him guide her out of the office and toward the elevator, though. She wasn't sure what he'd do if she really resisted. Probably flap his hands at her some more. She didn't have a good reason for refusing, other than not being excited about getting stuck in a hospital room for hours. Excited about the baby, yes. About the hospital, not so much.
Still, in a dizzingly short period of time, she found herself in a room--god, they really needed to find some better artwork for the walls--wearing a hideous hospital gown and having a fetal monitor strapped around her belly. Kelly, her nurse, who was way too cheerful for a Monday, handed her the call light button.
"Okay, Dr. Cuddy. Dr. Patil called. She's with a patient at the moment but she'll be in as soon as she's finished there. In the meantime, we're going to run the monitor for about twenty minutes, just to get a baseline and see how the contractions are going."
"What contractions?" Cuddy said. That was her other worry with her membranes being ruptured. She knew she was on the clock now. She'd have to deliver within the next twenty-four hours, but if she wasn't contracting, the doctor would have to induce her. She hated that thought.
"You're having them," Kelly said, nodding at the readout. "They're just not strong enough for you to feel them. That'll change. Rupturing your membranes usually kicks everything into high gear."
Cuddy nodded as Kelly slipped out of the room. She knew all that, of course. It was so different when it was actually happening to her, though. It was hard to be objective. It was hard to be patient. And it was really, really hard to have no control over what happened or how it happened.
Just then, House burst through the door looking like a mad man. Cuddy stared at him for a moment, then asked, "How many people did you run over on the way here?"
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But again, no. This was definitely very, very real. He was in such a stunned state that he didn't register Cuddy's question at first. His mind was going at a hundred miles an hour, about the same rate his heart was currently beating.
"Not enough," he answered. He looked over his shoulder to the door that had closed behind him, then back at Cuddy and he approached her in slow, almost cautious steps as though afraid if he got too close, something would come bursting out of her stomach to attach itself to his face. Reaching the side of the bed, he set her bag down and then stood and stared at her some more.
Nothing was actually happening, besides the sound of the baby's heartbeat and the small contractions the foetal monitor was picking up. It was a perfectly boring, typical early labour situation. Technically, he should already be bored out of his brain because nothing interesting was happening. Except something very interesting - 'interesting' meaning terrifying - was happening and that was he was facing official fatherhood in a matter of hours.
So, now what? Stand by the bed, looking stupid? "Nice outfit," he said as he gestured to her ugly hospital gown, grasping at anything to say.
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"It's what all the fat women are wearing in Paris this season," she said when he waved at her hospital gown. Seriously? He was going to waste time commenting on her gown? She got that he was feeling a little lost at the moment but they were having a baby, for crying out loud.
Her own heartrate fluttered upward again when she thought about that. They were having a baby. After all this time and all the struggle, they were going to be parents and that was about the most amazing thing in the world. Amazing and yeah, a bit scary.
She reached for his hand and tugged at him until he sat on the edge of the bed. "Don't freak out, okay?" she said, clutching his hand in the hope it would help calm him. And calm herself. "I need to stay calm and I can't be calm if you're bouncing off the walls. So...take a deep breath."
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Again, nothing was even happening. Maybe he'd calm down once nothing happening continued to not happen. But until then, he was still in shock mode. And that was ridiculous, he knew, because he'd had almost nine months to prepare for this. Except he felt anything but prepared right now.
Reluctantly, he let Cuddy pull him to the bed and he sat on the edge with a still somewhat cautious look on his face. "I'm not freaking out," he countered indignantly. "I'm just... I wasn't expecting this."
Even so, he quietly drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then gave Cuddy's hand a squeeze. She was right - she needed to stay calm. And so did he. Moving his other hand to hers, he clutched her hand in both of his for a moment before he lifted his hand to her arm and gave it a rub. "How're you feeling?"
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She let out a slightly frustrated laugh. "I feel fine. Other than dumping a gallon of amniotic fluid in my office, nothing's changed. I'm just sitting here waiting for Barbara and getting the baseline readings on the fetal monitor," she said, waving her hand at the monitor.
She wasn't complaining about feeling fine, not at all. She knew all too well she probably wouldn't be feeling so fine later. She simply wasn't very good at waiting, not when she'd waited so long to have a child. Now the time was here, she wanted to happen right now. She also felt a bit silly sitting around as a patient when nothing much was happening. She felt almost as if she should somehow make something happen to justify taking up a bed. Like every other aspect of birthing a baby, she had little control over when things would happen.
"I guess it's the calm before the storm," she said with a lopsided smile. She started to reach for the bed control so she could sit up more but she stopped and pressed her hand to her belly when she felt a squeezing sensation. She glanced over at the monitor to confirm it was in fact a contraction, then she looked at House. "Well, I actually felt that one. Not much, but I felt it."
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It was on the tip of his tongue to actually say all of that aloud. For once, he knew better not to. It was only early stages but that didn't mean Cuddy wouldn't lauch into attack mode if he twisted her knobs the wrong way. He was beginning to calm down a little now, anyway, seeing that everything was reasonably - deceivingly - docile. It was just Cuddy strapped to a foetal monitor. No biggie.
He could get through this, he thought to himself. Yeah, he would take it step at a time, everything would be routine, the mogwai would emerge from within a deluge of uterine goop, cue end of final act. Yeah, he could definitely do this. He was a doctor, after all. It wasn't like he didn't have a clue what was going on.
The quick internal pep talk helped even more to soothe his nerves until Cuddy said she'd felt a contraction. That was naturally to be expected but that didn't stop his nerves from jumping a few amps. He craned his neck to look at the reading, at the small but steady rise and fall of Cuddy's contraction. Each contraction was one contraction closer to meeting this kid, he thought to himself. He swallowed back a flutter of nerves.
"Better you than me," he said as he sat back and looked at Cuddy. He chewed his lip, then looked down at their joined hands before lifting them to kiss the back of hers.
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"You sure about that?" she asked. Obviously he didn't want the pain. No one would, and he'd already had more than enough pain for a lifetime. She was simply a little nervous about whether she could handle it. On an intellectual level, she was certain she could handle anything labor threw at her. On an emotional level, though, she was nervous.
Just then, there was brisk knock on the door and Barbara let herself in. "I should've known you'd be early, Lisa," the doctor said cheerfully as she walked directly to the monitor and began scanning the paper recording. "You've probably never been late to anything in your life, have you?"
"Not when I have any say in it," Cuddy admitted.
Dr. Patil acknowledged House with a nod, then returned her gaze to the monitor. "So, how's it going?"
"Well, I actually felt this last contraction."
"Good," Barbara said, nodding as she turned to face Cuddy, one hand resting on the monitor. "I can see the contractions are getting stronger, even in the short time you've been on the monitor. We want you to get into a good pattern of labor. It's early yet but you're off to a good start. Hopefully over the next hour or so you'll get into a strong, regular pattern of contractions."
Cuddy nodded, swallowing down some of her nervousness. She wasn't looking forward to strong contractions because she wasn't an idiot--she never wanted pain. But now that it was time, she wanted to get the show on the road.
"Okay," Barbara said, patting Cuddy on the shoulder. "Let's check your cervix and see where we are on that end."
"Oh, yippee," Cuddy muttered. She withdrew her hand from House's grasp and settled herself back on the bed. She pulled her knees up and spread her legs while Patil snapped on a glove.
"Oh, I know," Barbara said breezily. "This is everyone's favorite part. It only takes a moment, though, so just take a deep breath and relax."
Cuddy drew in a slow breath, then reached for House's hand again as she felt the pressure caused by Barbara's hand examining her cervix. It was uncomfortable but as promised, the doctor was done quickly. Cuddy was even more relieved when Barbara announced she was three centimeters dilated. She'd been worried that, given she hadn't been having contractions for long, she might not be dilated at all. And the less dilated she was, the longer labor she had to get through. Three centimeters wasn't great but it wasn't bad either.
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Hearing the knock, he looked over his shoulder at the door and eyed Patil as she strode into the room. Well, this was one area he could help: watching Patil like a hawk and criticising each and every move she made. Yes, Cuddy had made him promise to let Patil do her job but that didn't mean he wasn't going to give his input, regardless whether it would be welcomed or not. If anything, it would take the focus off his own nervousness to put all the criticism onto her. He just continued to eye her when Patil nodded at him.
Thing was, for the moment he couldn't really find anything to fault Patil on. She was quick, efficient and annoyingly cheerful about the whole thing. "You make pain sound like something to look forward to," he chimed in sarcastically when she told Cuddy about getting into a regular pattern of contractions.
Patil appeared to ignore him and he stood from the bed with a roll of his eyes before Patil said about checking Cuddy's cervix. He took a seat on the chair beside the bed instead to give Cuddy room. "Careful. Her vagina bites," he told Patil.
Again, Patil seemed to ignore him for the most part. He grasped Cuddy's hand in his when she reached for him and he gave her hand a squeeze while Patil checked her cervix. He was a little surprised to hear Cuddy was already three centimetres. Actually, he wasn't surprised so much as he was rattled with another amp of nerves. Three centimetres down, seven to go, and those seven could come sooner than later, given Cuddy's membranes had already broken.
"And how's the dad doing?" Patil asked as she sat back and pulled the glove off.
"The dad's cervix is fully intact and closed, thanks for asking," he replied.
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Cuddy let out a huff of amusement. House was so freaked out by her having a baby. She couldn't imagine what he'd do if he had to give birth himself. Actually, most men she knew would take a vow of celibacy rather than risk pregnancy. She liked to think women were just tougher than men but she supposed it had as much to do with attitude. Women grew up with the idea they were not only made for bearing children but that it was a rewarding experience. Men grew up thinking it was scary and maybe even icky. Men basically were wimps when it came to childbirth.
"I suspect you've been having these small contractions for a couple of days," Barbara said as Cuddy resettled herself more comfortably in the bed. "They weren't enough to bother you but they were enough to start opening up your cervix. Which was lucky for you--more gain, less pain."
"How long will I stay lucky?" Cuddy asked. "A few more centimeters, maybe?"
"Doubt it," Barbara said, laughing. "Now that your membranes have ruptured, you'll probably notice a fairly rapid escalation. The contractions are going to get a lot stronger pretty quickly."
"And that's supposed to be good news, right?" Cuddy asked in a dry tone. She glanced over at House feeling apprehensive again. She knew it was good news. It was good for her to keep progressing steadily through labor. She just wished she had some concrete idea of how this was all going to happen, how it was going to feel. It was the unknown that made her nervous. And childbirth was an unknown to her because all the knowledge she had about it was from the other side.
"You're going to do fine." Barbara replaced the chart and turned toward House. "To help things along, I want you to get her walking for a long as she's comfortable doing it. The movement will help stimulate her contractions. As an added bonus, gravity will also be helping the baby to move down." Barbara moved briskly to the side of the bed. "I'll just get this monitor off and you'll be free to move around."
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While Patil and Cuddy discussed the issue of dilation, House anxiously tapped his cane between his legs on the floor, jiggling a leg as well. Patil made sense and she was right, at least so far: everything was routine with Cuddy's labour and her labour probably would progress quicker due to her water breaking. Plus the fact she was already three centimetres dilated.
He glanced up at Patil when she addressed him and he raised his brows. He'd object to her instructions on pure principle of not wanting anyone to tell him what to do, but again she was right. Walking would or could help speed up Cuddy's labour.
"Really? Wow, I never learned that in medical school," he replied sarcastically to Patil explaining to him the benefit of Cuddy walking. He shifted the chair out of the way to give Patil room to remove the foetal monitoring equipment from Cuddy. Then Patil was gone after saying she'd return in a little while to check on Cuddy's progress. Now alone in the room with her, House turned to Cuddy and sighed.
"So, I guess this is the part where the fun really begins," he said. He licked his lips as he assessed the situation. So many feelings were sommersaulting through him, everything from stone cold fear to nerves, to something that almost resembled a cautious kind of excitement. Each feeling kept coming and going like a radio frequency going in and out of transmission. Right now he was feeling... any one of those three emotions. He wasn't really sure which. Whichever feeling it was, it was causing his palms to keep perspiring.
"Well," he continued as he pushed himself up from the seat. He rested his cane against the edge of the bed and stooped down for her bag. "What do you want to do first? Unpack this stuff so you're settled?" He dumped the bag on the bed beside her. "Or go for a walk?"
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