West Wing to Maternity Wing!(8)

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.