It didn’t matter how late we’d stayed out the night before or how tired I was. I was always up early nowadays, and the past two days I’d had some lower back pain that was wearing on me. I’d read on the good ole baby center app that it was common for sleep to evade you in the late stages of pregnancy and I was definitely in the late stages and sleep, well, it felt like I hadn’t had any in ages.
Part of me was eager for this to all be over. But the smart part of me, the part of me that knew my baby girl was safer inside of me than outside of me, just wanted her to stay put a little longer. I was uncomfortable and tired, yes, but I’d be uncomfortable and tired for her as long as I needed to be.
So, I gave up on sleep around 4:00 a.m. It pained me to leave a warm Anthony in the bed, but at least one of us needed their sleep and clearly that one wasn’t going to be me. I watched him sleep for a few minutes before finally leaving the bed and cleaning the dishes from last night’s pasta. I immediately went to work on what felt like autopilot. I did a load of baby clothes in the sweet smelling baby detergent my momma had bought for me. I sat on the couch and folded the tiny pieces of clothes until the sun came up and the small twinge in my back began growing again.
Anthony got up around six and made us breakfast while I checked my hospital bag to make sure everything was packed. After we ate, we spent the morning putting the bassinet together and putting the freshly washed sheet on it.
As the day went on, I became increasingly agitated. My back was killing me and I was exhausted but couldn’t rest. I needed to make sure everything was ready. Why I felt the need to do everything that day, I didn’t know. I just knew it had to be done.
I was setting the dinner plates and Anthony was in the kitchen when all disaster struck. I leaned over the table to lay a napkin next to a plate when I felt a small pop, almost like I’d sprung a leak. Warm liquid ran down one of my legs and into my sock. I looked down, shocked I’d peed on myself. Don’t get me wrong, there’d been plenty of close calls over the past couple months. A baby sitting on your bladder was no joke, but I’d never actually peed on myself.
I hustled to the bathroom, hoping Anthony hadn’t noticed. I pulled my pants off thinking that it sure was a lot of pee and more was still coming. And that’s when I realized it. Holy shit. I hadn’t peed on myself. My water had broken. Only I’d convinced myself that something like that only happened in the movies. Shit like this didn’t happen to women in real life. Just the moment I realized how wrong I was, the pain in my back spread across my front and I felt like my whole midsection was being squeezed and pulled apart simultaneously.
“Fuck,” I grunted and held on to the bathroom counter while I crouched a little. That seemed to help. After a minute or so the pain passed, and I managed to get my pants and underwear off. I was going to keep my cool. I was not going to freak out. We were having a baby today and people had been having babies since the beginning of time. I could do it, too.
I found some panties and pants in the bedroom and slipped them on. “Doc,” I called.
“You ready to eat?” He came into the room.
I still sat on the bed, trying to get dry socks on my feet. It was no easy feat, let me tell you.
He took the socks from my hands and kneeled down in front of me. I would’ve objected, but I was in labor. He rolled them onto my feet.
“I’m in labor.” I never was one to beat around the bush.
His eyes flew to mine. “What?”
“My water just broke all over the dining room.” And another contraction rolled through me. “Shit,” I groaned.
“How far apart are the contractions?”
I leaned forward and rested my elbows on his shoulders. It felt better curled up like that. “How the hell am I supposed to know? I didn’t even realize I was having contractions until my water broke. Maybe five minutes?”
“Fuck,” he said sharply into my ear, holding me through the pain.
“I know. I think I’ve been contracting for the past day or so. I didn’t realize it felt like back pain. I’ve never done this before.”
He rubbed my back. “I know, baby. We need to get your bag and get you to the hospital.”
He was right. All of the numerous doctors I’d met with had all agreed that a natural birth was best for the baby. A trip through the birth canal made sure the baby lost all the extra fluid on her body and in her lungs. It was best for her. She’d come that way. And then I’d get to hold her for just a few moments before they took her straightaway to surgery. Most babies born with this particular heart defect didn’t experience problems until fifteen minutes to twenty-four hours after birth. So, I’d have just a small amount of time with her. And I was more than happy with that. I’d take the minutes with her right after birth.
The contraction passed, and I got off the bed further embarrassed. The spot I’d sat in was soaked and so were my pants again. Who the hell knew having a baby was so damn messy?
“I’m sorry, Doc.” I was near tears.
He pulled me into a tight embrace. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. We’re having a baby today.”
We.
That word washed over me in the best possible way. We. Me and Doc. Team Hope. God, he made me so happy. He was too damn good to me.
Tears sprang to my eyes. “I know, but now there’s a wet spot on your bed.”
“Our bed.”
I wasn’t touching that subject with a ten-foot pole right now. We had enough on our hands.
“It’s ruined. And in the dining room.”
His hands settled on my cheeks in that way I’d grown to love and had become so familiar with. He smiled down at me. “Everything is fixable. It’s okay.” He placed a soft, close-mouthed kiss to my lips and let me go.
I walked to the closet to get my bag while Anthony packed his own. Another rip-roaring contraction shot through me and I wobbled on my feet. I’d never experienced a pain so raw, so completely real in my life. It almost brought me to my knees. I blew long breaths, trying to get through it, and that’s when I felt it. A sort of drop, like a bowling ball was sitting right between my legs. My pants and socks were even wetter now, and I started to panic about Anthony’s car, but I didn’t know if that was going to matter because it felt like the baby’s head was right there, getting ready to come out any minute. I braced my hand on the wall and shouted, “Doc!”
He entered the closet just as I hit my knees. I couldn’t stand anymore. I was in too much pain. Something was wrong. Why did it hurt so much? I hadn’t quite prepared myself for so much pain.
“What happened?” he said, squatting down next to me.
“I don’t know,” I panted. “But I don’t think we are going to make it to the hospital.”
“What?” His eyes darted around the closet in a panic. I knew he was thinking the same thing I was. We couldn’t have our sick baby in a closet. Even if it was a large and beautifully smelling one.
A sudden unexplainable urge to push came over me and I leaned forward onto my hands and rocked my body back and forth on my knees. I should have been embarrassed, horrified at the situation, but the pain overshadowed everything. All I could think was I needed to push and I’d feel better.
“I have to push,” I grunted. Sweat poured from my hair and onto my forehead.
“No, baby, you can’t push. We have to get to the hospital.”
Oh, no, he couldn’t panic now. A baby was coming any minute. I knew it. “No, Anthony. The baby is coming. Do you understand me? I have to fucking push!”
My harsh words snapped him out of whatever panicked state he was in, and he dashed to the cell phone.
“I need an ambulance. My girlfriend is in labor. Now. The child has a heart defect. Hypoplastic Right Heart Syndrome. We need an ambulance immediately.” He rattled off our address, but I barely noticed. The pain was making me feel dizzy and sick to my stomach.
And then he was back in the closet with me, his own sheet of sweat on his forehead. He kneeled behind me and ripped my pants and panties down my legs. I lifted my feet so he could get them the rest of the way off.
“Lean forward and spread your legs a little.”
I leaned forward, laying my forehead on my arms as a fresh new pain swept through me. I groaned and blew air through it, praying this would end soon. Terrified it would end in the wrong way. I should have been horrified at Anthony behind me, kneeling between my legs, but I just couldn’t feel anything but panic and pain.
“What do you see?”
“Nothing yet.”
“Okay, that’s good, right? Maybe the ambulance will get here in time. Everything is gonna be fine,” I said more to myself than Anthony.
“I don’t know, baby. Your contractions are really close together.” He crawled around to my head to look me in the face. “I haven’t delivered a baby in a long time, not since my residency.”
Tears leaked out the sides of my eyes. What if they didn’t make it in time? What would we do? Terror tore at my insides. I couldn’t have my baby here. Anthony was right. We needed the hospital. We needed medical professionals and not just my Doc.
“I’m scared, Doc.”
He sat down at my head and pulled me up under my arms until I was kneeled over his lap and face-to-face with him, straddling his thighs.
“I know, baby, but everything is going to be okay. I promise.” But I saw the hint of fear in his eyes. Just the smidge of distress he tried to hide from me. But I knew his face almost just as well as my own.
Another contraction took hold, and I widened my legs over his lap and panted into his chest, curling my body around the front of his. “Fuck, I have to push. I have to,” I panted.
“Then do it. Push,” he said calmly.
I wanted to wait until the ambulance came. I wanted to give my baby girl the best fighting chance and the more medical personnel here, the better. I shook my head, my hair now soaked with sweat. “I can’t. I’m too scared.”
He grabbed my chin, bringing my eyes to his. “Someone once told me that if you aren’t scared, you aren’t dreaming big enough.”
Tears poured down my cheeks as my lips trembled wildly. My sweet man. He didn’t know. Those were the words of a young, naive girl. A silly fool. It was beautiful that he remembered and awful, too, because this wasn’t a dream.
“This isn’t a dream, Doc,” I cried. “This is a nightmare.” My baby was sick and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. And she was about to be born in a closet. She could die here. All of this and maybe we’d never even stood a chance. Maybe fate hadn’t been on our side after all.
His grip was firm on my chin, his eyes fierce, his face that of a fighter, a warrior. “No, Kelly. Not your dream. My dream. You and that baby. You’re my dream.”
I wondered how big of a dream it was. “How scared are you?” I whispered.
“Terrified,” he answered sharply.
More tears squeezed from my eyes. “That’s an awfully big dream, Doc.”
His face was savage. I’d never forget how it looked in that moment, so forceful and wildly beautiful. So scared and so fearsome. “Then you better not let me down.”
Never, I conceded. I’d never let him down. I placed my forehead to his. “I love you.”
His eyes closed slowly, like he was savoring the words, tucking them somewhere safe deep in his heart, before he opened them. “I love you, too. Team Hope,” he whispered.
“Team Hope,” I said back.
“Now push.”
And I did. And I kept pushing, until I felt a burning that made small tears leak out the sides of my eyes, but I didn’t stop until I felt Doc’s big hands under me, his voice telling me to wait.
“Okay, one more.” He kissed my forehead. Burning, fire, and a long scream accompanied by a big push and all of a sudden I felt strangely empty.
“There she is!” Doc cried out. He pulled her up and between us and stuck his finger into her mouth, making sure nothing was there. I looked down shocked at how small she was between us, especially in Doc’s big hands.
Why wasn’t she crying? Why wasn’t she moving?
“What’s wrong with her, Doc? Why isn’t she crying?” Panic climbed up my throat.
She was strangely quiet as Doc grabbed a shoe lace from one of the shoes in the closet. I watched him tie it around the umbilical cord, feeling like every second was an hour, scared out of my mind. I was tired, but so frightened. Why wasn’t she crying? He pulled a dress shirt off a hanger in the closet and wrapped it around her, rubbing her back vigorously while he held her against his chest until I heard the sweetest sound I’d ever heard in my life. My baby girl’s loud cry.
She was pink and mad as hell as far as I could tell, and he put her in my arms and pulled me close so he was holding both of us.
“She looks like you. She’s beautiful.” He had tears in his eyes. “She looks good. She’s a nice color.” His pointer and middle finger covered her heart for a few seconds. “She’s a fighter. Like her momma.”
His face held an enormous amount of pride I couldn’t even begin to comprehend.
I held her to me. She did look like me. Her hair was dark and she was so tiny. She screamed and cried, and I hiccupped a laugh. “She’s perfect,” I breathed.
The whirr of an ambulance sounded in the distance, and I was relieved. And sad. I wanted to stay in the closet forever, me and my baby and Doc. They’d take her from me soon.
Doc kissed me all over my face a thousand times with the baby held between us like the precious gift she was. I didn’t know how we’d ever let her go although in mere minutes we’d have to.
Doc told me time and time again in low whispered words how amazing I was, how proud he was of me. How awed he was by me, until finally the paramedics banged on the door and he went to let them in.
Anthony cut her umbilical cord, and they took her from us and loaded us all into an ambulance while Doc shouted orders at them I didn’t understand. But I didn’t need to. I trusted him implicitly. She was as much his as she was mine, and I knew he’d never let her down.