I brought M to work with me late in the afternoon. We'd selected a Spanish book of hers to share as well as some snacks, we'll make this a playdate if it kills me. We walk in the door and it's crowded but through the mass of people I saw them sitting in the spot we reserve for families. I notice the little girl is fast asleep and then I see her mother. Something is wrong.
I pick M up and walk over fast, mom is sitting on the floor, she's crying and wrapped in a blanket. As I get closer the blanket falls down and I realize she's holding her stomach. I go to her and she motions to her belly, a man nearby says it's hurting her a lot but it's not the baby, it can't be, she's only seven months. Men, I think as I grab my phone because who knows what month it really is and what does that matter anyways. Ambulancia? I ask and she nods so I call 911 and within minutes they arrive. In the meantime we lay her down and put a pillow under her head. All the while her daughter is still sleeping and I am wondering how she'll wake, during or after her mom is already gone. Shortly paramedics flood the room and start peppering her with questions: how far apart, at how many weeks did you deliver last time, has your water broken? She's looking at me and I stop them. Spanish. They need to speak Spanish but none of them do so a client steps forward and translates. By this time they've loaded her on the stretcher, her husband has to stay behind because kids can't ride in the ambulance. Her daughter wakes up as she's being wheeled out of the building, I see her sleepily watching the tail end of the action and wonder if she'll cry.
I hand the paramedic my card and ask him to give it to the doctor. She won't know how to get back and her husband won't know how to find her. You must have them call us. They nod, eager to go.
The little girl is awake now, she sees M and gives her a shy smile. M looks at me and smiles and tugs me over. She sits on her mat and opens the bag she brought and brings out a book. She hands it to her and they start reading side by side. One of the staff brings them some chips and I want to interfere but I don't. M realizes immediately chips, she says and beams at me. Just one, I say, futilely and I know it. Three, she replies and turns back to her new friend, mouth already full. Her father is standing in the corner, two countries and an ambulance between him and everyone else. I realize then mom is the rock and without her there, I worry even more. He doesn't even know where the hospital is and he's not asking. I realize he's staying here and she's on her own.
We stayed for another hour and then came home, the girls giving each other shy hugs as we leave and M asking to come back tomorrow, this chips still fresh on her mind. There's been no word since, no word on if the baby's coming or if it's something worse but no matter what she's lying somewhere alone in a hospital while the rest of her family is on the floor. If there's no news this morning I'll go to the hospital, either way the story goes on.
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