Now that Danny was finally starting to gain weight, Sophie
was allowed to hold him, wrapped in warm blankets, for short
periods. She liked to hold him close to her chest, sometimes
attempting to nurse him. Those attempts were largely in vain,
and he tended to fall asleep nestled between her boobs. Oh well,
at least it feels good to us both. Today, she held him in her lap,
trying to feed him with a bottle. It was like getting a baby seal to
suck on a bottle—adorable, but more milk landed on Sophie’s lap
than in Danny’s mouth.
Kate sat next to Sophie, laughing at the show. Seeing Sophie’s
frustration, Kate urged her to relax. She leaned over and tried to
help Danny get a better seal on the bottle, only to wind up with
Sophie’s pumped breast milk all over her hands and arms.
“Eew, gross! No offense.” Kate grabbed a blanket to wipe her
hands.
Sophie kept trying. She and Kate overheard Kim on the
phone asking Amanda to come up to her pod and check in on
her latest admission.
“She’s a mom who also happens to be a nurse with a twen
ty-five-weeker. Her baby isn’t doing well,” Kim explained. “You
were at her delivery, and now the mom is looking for answers.”
Sophie made a mental note to add this baby’s name to her
growing file.
Kim continued talking into the phone. “I tried him. Dr.
130
JULIE HATCH
Wagner isn’t available right now. I’ve given her all the hope and
reassurance that I can about her baby, but Amanda, she’s looking
for answers that I can’t give her. Can you come talk to her?”
Kate left to use the ladies’ room.
Amanda came into the pod and sat down next to the mother.
Sophie studied Amanda. Her skin was pale, more than just winter
pallor. She had some old acne scars on her cheeks and along her
jawline. Her dirty-blonde hair was pulled back in a thin shoul
der-length ponytail. Sophie thought that if she washed her hair
a little more often and put on a touch of mascara, she might be
pretty, in a simple way.
Amanda spoke matter-of-factly, offering no physical contact
of comfort to the mother. Sophie hoped she was at least trying to
be compassionate. Kim busied herself with the baby, listening to
the conversation. The mother wanted to know what medications
she had put into her IV.
Amanda pulled out a vial. “This is what I gave you—pro
gesterone to stop your contractions. And it worked. For a little
bit.”
“Until it didn’t!” exclaimed the mother. “Are you sure you
didn’t accidentally give me something other than progesterone?”
“Oh no, that’s not possible. I’ve been doing this too long to
mix up medications.”
Sophie looked closely at what Amanda held in her hands. All
she could see was that it was a white-capped vial. She couldn’t
read the writing. Kim asked Amanda to stand up a minute so she
could move her chair to make more room.
“Such tight quarters in here sometimes,” Kim mumbled. She
moved the two chairs and the table on wheels, shuffling them
around to make more room for reaching the baby. When Amanda
stood to move her chair, Kim bumped her hip.
“What are you doing?” Amanda asked.
131
THE VERY BEST OF CARE
“I’m just making more room,” answered Kim. “There, now
there’s more space.”
Amanda looked suspiciously at Kim as she patted her pock
ets. “I had some meds with me. Where’d they go?”
She searched her pockets, pulling out papers, pens, and
hemostats but no vials.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kim pulled out her
own preemie-specific meds to show Amanda.
“Huh,” Amanda muttered to herself, “maybe I left them in
triage.”
Amanda wrapped up the conversation with the mother,
explaining that they did everything they could to stop her labor
but the drugs didn’t work. “Sorry” was all Amanda had to offer.
She left in a hurry, still patting down her pockets.
After Amanda left, Kim joined Sophie to look at the vials that
Kim had slipped from Amanda’s pocket. There was a white
capped progesterone vial. There was also a pink-capped vial with
the name Ativan on it.
“What’s she doing walking around with this?” Kim asked in
disgust. “This stuff isn’t supposed to leave triage.”
The third vial was capped with a tan-colored top with a Pito
cin label.
“Do you think she made a mistake?” asked Sophie.
“I don’t know. Why would she give a mom only twenty-five
weeks pregnant Pitocin? It doesn’t make any sense. She must
have drawn from the wrong vial.”
Later, Sophie told Adam and Kate what she had seen with
Amanda and the vials in her pockets.
Kate said, “Soph, that doesn’t prove anything other than that
they carry these vials around.”
“What about the mothers I’ve talked to whose early labors
132
JULIE HATCH
were idiopathic? It had to have been the meds. They must have
been given the wrong medications.” Sophie considered the impli
cations of what she was thinking. “Or,” she said out loud, “they
got the intended medication.
