“Get! It! Out!”
“Okay, sweetheart,” said Ben, holding my sweaty, straining hand. “Just breathe.”
“Don’t you sweetheart me. It was your penis that did this.”
Dr. Peer, the obstetrician, looked at me over the rim of her face mask thingy, eyes singularly unimpressed with the drama. Asshole. She wasn’t the one lying on a bed with her legs up in stirrups, vagina exposed for the whole fucking world to see, was she? No. No, she wasn’t. I was. And this whole labor thing had been going on for twenty-one fucking hours now, so really something needed to be done sooner rather than later. At fifteen hours I’d given in and asked for an epidural. Best thing ever. But now my high was fading. My happy was long gone.
“You can do this, I know you can,” said the amazing maternity nurse, Amy.
“Have you done it?” I snarled.
“Well … no.”
I let my eyes do the talking.
The woman took a step back.
“Easy,” said Anne, bravely holding on to my other hand.
“Liz, your baby’s head seems to be lodged in the birth canal,” said Dr. Peer. “She isn’t showing any signs of distress yet. So we can continue on as we’re doing, and hopefully push her out the old-fashioned way, or you could let us help things along with a suction extraction.”
“I read about those.” My eyes stayed on the blip-blip-blip of the baby heart monitor screen beside me.
“Is it dangerous?” asked Ben.
“With any procedure there’s a risk, but it’s very minimal. Generally the child’s head will just display a small bump, something like a blood blister, on the crown of her head for a couple of days. Nothing more.”
“What do you want to do, sweetheart? Keep going a little longer?” He picked up a wet cloth and wiped my sweat-soaked face with it.
“I’m so tired,” I cried. “Why is your head so big? If your head wasn’t so big this wouldn’t be happening.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled. At around fourteen hours, Ben had stopped trying to defend himself. Probably for the best. I wasn’t to be reasoned with.
“I feel very bad for me.” I cried some more.
“Another contraction coming soon,” Anne announced, watching the monitor.
“Miss Rollins, why don’t we set up for the extraction, just in case?” asked the ever-calm Dr. Peer.
“Okay.” Some weeping.
“Oh my fucking god,” said the voice of about the last person on earth I had any interest in dealing with just then. “What is the holdup in here? Do you have any idea how boring it is, waiting around for this kid to appear?”
“Martha, you cannot be in here,” said Ben through gritted teeth, giving his sister a foul look.
“Get out, bitch,” said Anne, ever so eloquently.
The woman swanned on over to my bedside, avoiding the sight of my girl bits so proudly on display, with a look of distaste on her perfect face. “Liz. Christ you’re a mess.”
Ben cracked his jaw. “Martha—”
She placed a hand on her brother’s arm, gave him a look. “Relax. I have an important role here that everyone can agree I am well placed to perform. I’m here to take the abuse. Figure by now you must be running out of energy for it. And given I could hear her screams from the waiting room…”
“Contraction coming,” warned Anne again.
“Get that uptight fucking bitch out of my sight,” I said.
“Is that the best you’ve got?” Martha yawned oh so delicately. “I thought you’d be getting to be a seriously cranky little girl by now.”
“You are the worst person to be in here.”
“Oh please,” she said, sitting down beside me and patting my shoulder. “You were handing out worse abuse to Ben and Anne, and they’re saints compared to me. Let it all out.”
“God you suck.”
“You know, I’ve been sitting out there for hours, putting up with the stinky diapers and crying from Jimmy’s little twin angel girls. And if your kid is anything like them, count me out for babysitting.” Hand on hip, she faced me down.
“As if I’d allow my child anywhere near you unchaperoned,” I snarled.
“Cute names, though. Lori and Jean. Much nicer than what you’ve got picked out. I really do pity that child during her school years.”
“Fuck I hate you!” I screamed, every inch of me straining, bearing down with my very last reserves of energy, giving it my all.
“Tell me something I don’t know!”
“You know the reason you thought I’d never sign that contract?” I raged. “Because you have the miserable condition of believing the rest of the world is as money-grubbing and selfish as you are. It’s called projection.”
“That’s more like it,” she said. “Cutting and all too true. I think you’ll make a pretty good psychiatrist after all.”
“Psychologist!”
“Whatever,” she shrugged. “You can put it in whatever fancy college terms you want, but you haven’t got anything I haven’t heard before.”
“Sam’s in love with you, you dumbass undeserving bitch,” I growled.
Her face blanked. “What?”
“If you weren’t so clueless and self-obsessed you’d have noticed it years ago.”
“Push,” said Anne, fingers tightening on my hand.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” said Ben. “You can do it.”
Dr. Peer and Amy waited between my spread legs for any development. Everyone in the fucking room singing the same tune: push.
But it was Martha that did her best to get in my face, having apparently recovered from her surprise. “Enough dicking around, Liz. Get that kid out of you. Now.”
“I’m trying!”
“Try harder, you slacker! Push!” she screamed right back at me. “Come on!”
“Argh!” My poor innocent vulva opened dreadfully, horribly, unnaturally wide. And then plop, the rest of my baby’s body slid out into the waiting arms of Dr. Peer. A moment later, a truly annoyed little cry filled the air, tiny baby fists flailing.
My baby. Oh wow.
I sagged back in relief, just trying to catch my breath. Anne was crying. Ben was watching our newborn child with open wonder. Martha was giving me a smug smile. Cow.
“Knew you just needed the right motivation,” she said, inspecting her perfect manicure. “Hate-fueled anger has its place, you know.”
“Clue-less,” I singsonged back at her, as much as my complete lack of energy would allow. We both smiled. I don’t really know why.
The pediatrician did a quick check of our baby while the after-birth was swiftly delivered and everything dealt with. Oh wow yeah. Never again. Never ever. Probably.
“Ladies, I present to you Gibson Thunderbird Rollins-Nicholson.” Ben carefully handed my swaddled, screaming baby into my arms.
“Hey, baby. It’s okay.” Oh my god. The warmth inside of me, the pure love filling me up to overflowing. He quieted down, the shrill noise turning into tiny I’m-quite-put-out whimpers. A tiny nose and mouth, and two china blue eyes staring back at me. A shock of dark blond hair. “Look at you. You’re wonderful.”
“Isn’t he?” said Ben, letting Gibson wrap a tiny finger around one of his sizably larger ones.
“He’s a he,” I stated, somewhat startled. “Wow.”
“Wondered when you were going to clue in to that.”
“And I was so sure you’d be a girl.” I shook my head.
“He’s perfect.” Anne gazed at him with absolute adoration.
Strangely enough, so did Martha. I’d never even imagined seeing her face so soft and smitten.
“We’re naming him after your favorite bass?” I asked.
“If you don’t mind.” Ben leaned forward, placing a kiss on my forehead. “Good work, sweetheart. You kicked ass.”
“Sorry I was so hellacious.”
He laughed. “Never mind.”
“Gibson Thunderbird Rollins-Nicholson.” I stroked a finger across his soft, sweet little cheek. “You are loved.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” said Anne, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “We’ll give you two guys some time alone.”
“Right. Later. Nice baby.” Martha followed my sister, brows drawn down and a thoughtful look on her face.
The good doctor and nurse had likewise made themselves scarce. Thank goodness for the quiet. To think, after all those months of being careful with my language, all he’d heard upon entering the world was profanity. Oh well. Win some, lose some.
“I love you,” said Ben, nuzzling my face.
“I love you too.” I turned, kissing the tip of his nose. “We’re a family now.”
He smiled. “Lizzy, you’ve been my family since the day I met you. My best friend. My lover. You going to make it official now and be my wife too?”
Gibson started to cry, little head trying to turn this way and that—seeking out something to suck, most likely. God, he was amazing. So beautiful.
“Here.” Ben helped me rearrange him, opening the neckline on my gown to give my bubba access. “Guess I’m going to have to share those for a while.”
“A noble sacrifice.”
One hand rubbing his son’s back, and the other smoothing back my messy hair, Ben stared down at me. “You didn’t answer my question. Will you marry me?”
I smiled through the happy tears. “Oh yeah. I’d really like that.”