Jennifer sagged back against the pillows behind her. The effect of the relaxation had an immediate impact on the flow from her breasts. 'Look, there's some more. Once we have a few more mils we'll start to look at an alternative method for getting some breast milk into Esther. Any extra milk we can refrigerate or freeze.'
'But I want to breastfeed. I told everyone I want to breastfeed.'
Lincoln could see the stress on Jennifer's face. He reached out and automatically touched her hand. 'And you will. In the meantime, in order to keep your daughter from screaming the house down, we'll give her your breast milk another way.'
'How?'
'There's two possibilities and it all depends on the baby. We can try cup feeding or finger feeding. What we definitely won't do is put your breast milk into a bottle.'
'I've never heard of these. How on earth can a baby drink from a cup?' She turned to face her husband. 'Have you ever heard of these?'
Charles lifted his eyes from his daughter, still caught in the rosy glow of new parenthood, smitten with his daughter's face. 'Nope, you've got me. Never heard of them.'
Lincoln smiled. 'The word cup might not be strictly true. We don't use a regular cup-we use a medicine cup and, to be honest, this type of feeding isn't anything new, it's been around for a long time. We place the edge of the cup at the baby's mouth and bring the liquid up to baby's lower lip, so she can lap it up-a bit like a pussycat. It can get a little messy.' He smiled at Charlie, who still had his suit on. 'We can you give something to change into.' He nodded at Val, who had just detached the breast pump. 'One of us will take some time and teach you how to do it. It can take a little bit of practice to get it right. It does mean, though, that you can both help with Esther's feeding.'
Charlie gave a broad smile. There was no mistaking the joy in his eyes as he looked at his daughter. 'Whatever she needs,' he murmured.
Lincoln watched Jennifer's face. She looked a little easier. 'This is only a temporary measure to help get some fluids into Esther. We'll still try putting Esther to the breast and encouraging her to latch on.'
'Wouldn't it just be easier to put a tube down?'
'In theory it might be. But if we feed Esther by tube and she has the sensation of feeling full, she won't have any motivation to suck. That's what we really need to work on. Feeding by tube would be the last resort and I don't think we'll need to do that.'
Jennifer nodded slowly. 'So how do you know if she's getting enough?'
'We'll monitor her diapers and check the tone and elasticity of her skin.' His eyes caught sight of Val, transferring some of the breast milk into one of the medicine cups. He stretched his hands out towards Charlie. 'Do you mind if I take her for a minute? We want to be sure and have her wrapped up securely before we start-little hands can make a terrible mess when we're cup feeding.' He smiled at the President's suit. 'Wanna play doctor for the day and change into a set of scrubs?'
Charlie nodded. 'Come with me,' Ruth, the other nurse, said as she headed towards the door. 'I'm sure we can find something for you.'
Lincoln tried hard to focus on the task at hand. Getting the First Daughter to feed should be his first and only priority. So why were his thoughts filled with pale skin and red, curly hair?
The buzz from the monitor and the tightening cuff on her arm woke Amy from her daze. Damn cuff. How was anyone supposed to sleep with this stupid thing going off every thirty minutes? No wonder her blood pressure was rising-she couldn't get any peace and quiet.
A smile crossed her face. Things were different from a patient perspective. She'd never really given much thought before to the electronic monitoring devices that she used as a nurse. Cardiac monitors that beeped incessantly, IV fluid pumps that alarmed when they needed changing and syringe drivers that required hourly monitoring. It was no wonder patients complained.
She turned her head and glanced at the screen beside her. Damn! Her blood pressure hadn't gone down at all. The curtains surrounding her had been pulled tightly and lights around her had been dimmed. What time was it? Was it night-time? It must be-she'd just been about to slip into another X-rated, Lincoln-filled dream. Definitely not suitable for a hospital stay.
She swung her legs from the trolley and reached for her bag. Somewhere in the depths of this giant tote bag should be her watch-she'd slipped it off earlier when her wrist had felt uncomfortable. She rummaged around inside the bag-lipstick, phone, receipts, purse, umbrella, spare undies, fold-up flat shoes, pens, pens and more pens. Ten minutes later she gave up. She pulled the cuff from her arm, the ripping Velcro echoing around the quiet emergency department. Where had everyone gone?
As her bare feet hit the cold linoleum floor her head swam a little. How long had it been since she'd eaten? Judging from how her stomach felt, it must have been hours. A little gust of cold air struck her back. Blast! She still had on her hospital gown. It fastened down her back and currently felt like fresh-air fortnight back there; thank goodness she had respectable undies on. She grasped the back of her gown in her hands and stuck her head out between the curtains, glancing one way, then the other, out into the eerie silence, before heading towards the nurses' station. It was deserted and according to the white board on the wall she was the only patient currently in the E.R. No wonder it was so quiet around here.
Then the thought struck her. Of course there were no other patients-the President and the First Family were in this hospital. She'd only got in here by default. Fainting at the police cordon could do that for you.
A packet of half-eaten cookies sat on the desk. She looked around again. Still no people. Well, if someone wanted to leave an open packet of cookies unguarded they could take the consequences. She flopped down into one of the nearby chairs and grabbed a cookie, oblivious to the crumbs falling down the front of her hospital gown, and closed her eyes. Bliss.
'Do you always steal the staff food?'
Amy's eyes shot open and she spluttered, which turned into a cough as part of a cookie lodged in her throat.
Lincoln looked amused as he went around behind her and gave her two hard slaps on the back.
She coughed the piece of cookie back up, catching it in her hand before depositing it in the trash can. She held her hands up. 'Guilty.'
She looked around the darkened corridors. 'Where did you spring from? I never even heard you. This place is like a scene from a bad slasher movie.'
Lincoln laughed, looking at the deserted corridors. He pointed to a door down the hallway. 'I came from the staffroom, where the current E.R. staff are watching reruns of the baby announcement. Don't think they've ever had it so quiet. And you … ' he pointed at her ' … are apparently resting peacefully with a still-borderline blood pressure and signs of pre-eclampsia.'
Amy rolled her eyes. She lifted her leg and stuck it on the nearby chair, prodding around her ankle and then further up her shin. 'I think the oedema is getting worse.'
Lincoln bent his head towards her leg under the dimmed lights. He was so close she could feel his breath on her skin. He ran his hand up and down her leg.
Wow! A physical examination wasn't supposed to feel like that. It wasn't supposed to make your skin prickle and your blood heat. Thank goodness she'd shaved her legs, or the hairs would currently be standing on end!
But what about him? How was he feeling right now? Did he know the effect he was having on her? Lincoln had always had a wicked sense of humour-was he teasing her? Knowing that her insides had currently turned to mush?
'Any oedema around your abdomen?'
His voice broke through her thoughts. So much for illicit daydreams. She bit her lip and shrugged her shoulders. 'To be honest, I didn't really look when I woke up. I was too busy in the hunt for food.'
'Do you want me to get you something to eat?'
'Can you? This place looks as if it's closed down for the night.'
'Aha.' He put a finger to his lips. 'I might only have been here for two days but I prioritised. I made sure I'm best friends with the canteen staff. What do you want?'
Pictures of barbecue chicken breasts, fresh green salads and French fries swam in front of her eyes. Closely followed by images of scrambled eggs and sausages. It was amazing the weird cravings that pregnancy gave you-even in the middle of the night. She sighed. 'To be honest, Linc, I'll take whatever I can get.'
He stretched out his hand towards her in the dim light. She hesitated, just for a second. Was this a doctor-patient thing? No. It wasn't. David Fairgreaves was her doctor. Linc was her friend. Her good friend. A friend she was going to have to persuade to take care of her baby.
She reached up towards his hand. 'You're going to have to heave, Linc, I don't think I can get out this chair.'
He enclosed her hand with both of his and gave her a gentle tug from the low-seated chair. The momentum caught her unawares and she took a few steps forward, her hands coming automatically upwards and resting on his hard chest.