31
“Fuck, babe, I think we gotta go back to the hospital,” I tell him, gulping in air. “Will you run in and grab my bag? It’s next to the bed.”
Luckily I was prepared and have a bag to go at both my house and the clubhouse. Inside is everything the baby and I will need for our hospital stay.
“Really?” he asks, glancing down at my vagina through the leggings I’m wearing. “You’re going into labor, too?”
“I think Katie freaked me out so much that it pushed me into labor,” I joke, but it’s most probably the damn truth.
“Shit, okay, don’t move; I’ll be right back,” he says, running inside.
Literally running, for his life, like he’s in the fucking Olympics or something.
I appreciate it.
He returns in a minute, and then we’re on our way back to where we just came from.
“We didn’t choose a name,” I panic in between contractions. “I didn’t even get to ask you if you liked the name Walker. Rogue came up with it.”
“I do like it,” he says, speeding.
“And if it’s a girl, how about Leilani? I love that name,” I say, doubling over as more pain hits me. “Oh fuck, that was a bad one.”
“Leilani is nice, too,” he says, clearly saying anything right now to appease me.
“But then she will have an L name, when you went with a W theme for your other girls,” I point out, breathing in and out in quick successions. “Is that weird? Do you want a W?”
“Kitty, I don’t need a W. I need a healthy baby, and I need you to be okay, and I need your pain to be over,” he says in a gentle tone, reaching out to hold my hand. I squeeze it and dig my nails into his palm as the next contraction takes over me. He doesn’t complain, even though I know my nails must have hurt him.
“Okay, no W then. Even though I do like the name Walker for a girl, too,” I say, making a noise similar to a strangled cat. “God, Katie was right. It does feel like what I imagine getting stabbed would be. Why me? Your kid is going to have a giant head, I know it.”
“We can worry about that later,” he rumbles, foot heavy on the accelerator.
By the time we arrive, I’m ready for this baby to come out.
I might not have screamed or yelled, but I felt like I wanted to, the pain was so all-consuming. However, I know that each contraction is bringing me closer to meeting my baby, and if I look at it that way, I start to embrace each one, knowing that in the end it’s going to give me what I want.
My baby, safe, and in my arms.
I’m wheeled into a private room, where Knuckles carries me onto the bed, and I’m stripped of my clothes and dressed in a gown.
“You’re five centimeters dilated,” a midwife tells me after she sticks her hand up my cervix. “You’re halfway there, Celina. You’re doing well, just keep breathing through the pain.”
“Where are my drugs?” I ask the nurse.
“Do you want a Tylenol?”
The look I give her is pure death. “I’m sorry, Tylenol? That’s for a headache, not a person ripping through a vagina.”
I’m not trying to be anyone’s hero, and if I can lessen my torture without hurting my child, I’m going to bloody well take it, but she’s going to have to up her painkiller offer or I’m going to lose my shit.
“Your labor is progressing really fast, if you take anything you might prolong the labor,” she tells me, looking to Knuckles like his opinion right now matters.
“I want the gas,” I demand. “Please. Surely that will take the edge off.”
“Okay, that we can do,” she murmurs, setting up the gas for me.
A few minutes later and I’m sucking in that gas like I need it to live just before every contraction, and it does help. About an hour later, the nurse does another cervix test, and lets me know that I’m ten centimeters and can now start pushing.
Wonderful.
“Okay, I can do this,” I tell myself. “I can do this. I just need to push him out, and then I get to hold him, and everything will be fucking fine.”
“You can do it,” Knuckles tells me, looking me in the eye. “You’ve got this, Celina.”
I work with each contraction, pushing whenever the pain hits me, trying to force him out into the world.
It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life.
But then all of a sudden, the pain stops, and just like that, I can hear crying.
Knuckles, who is standing at my feet even though I didn’t want him to, cuts the umbilical cord, and brings the baby straight to me, laying him on my chest, tears in his eyes.
“He’s perfect,” he whispers, emotion choking him up. “You did so well, Kitty. I’m so proud of you.”
“It’s a boy?” I ask, staring at his dark, full head of hair, brown eyes, long lashes, and tiny little fingers.
“Oh my god, I have created perfection,” I whisper, and I can’t help it, I start to cry.
Tears of utter happiness this time, my love for my son overwhelming.
I did it.
I nailed it.
I’m a mother.
With Walker in my arms, breastfeeding, surrounded by Knuckles and his two daughters, I can’t explain just how happy I am. I’ve never felt love like this, and I don’t even know how to explain how full my heart is. I called my mom and dad to let them know they’re grandparents, and they’re both going to come for a visit in a few weeks. Akeira and her husband are going to visit tomorrow, along with the rest of the MC family.
“He’s so cute,” Willow says in a baby voice. “I can’t believe I have a baby brother.”
“Who do you think he looks like?” Westley asks, peering down at Walker’s little face.
“I’m not too sure yet,” I reply, smiling at her. “I think he has your dad’s eyes, that’s for sure.”
“He’s the cutest baby I’ve ever seen. He has so much hair,” she continues, holding her hand to her chest. “When he finishes eating, can I hold him again?”
“Sure you can,” I tell her, glancing at Knuckles to find him already watching me, a look only to be described as adoration in his eyes.
“You look so beautiful right now,” he says, dropping his gaze to our son. “And thank you for giving me such a gift. A gift I never even knew I wanted.”
I smile, lashes on my cheeks as I look down at Walker. Knuckles is right, no one planned for this, and no one even knew this was a possibility, but here we are, so in love with this moment, with our family.
They say everything happens for a reason, and I never used to believe that.
You make your own fate, I’d have said, but all the roads that have led me to this moment weren’t made by just my doing.
“I shotgun Walker after that,” Willow says to her sister. “Don’t try and hog him, Westley.”
“Am I going to get to hold him again at some point?” Knuckles asks, sounding amused. He wraps an arm around each of his daughters and gives them a sweet kiss on top of their heads. “I have the best children in the world.”
“Yes, you do,” Willow replies, smirking. “But we have the best dad, so I guess we can call it even.”
Walker finishes drinking, yawns, and falls back asleep.
“May I?” Knuckles asks, and at my nod he takes his son and holds him for a little, just admiring him before letting his daughter hold him in turn. When Flora dropped the girls off, she didn’t come in to see the baby, nor did she show her face, but at least she brought them here.
We all stay like this, just chatting and oohing and aahing over Walker until visiting hours are over, and the girls get hungry.
They both give me a hug and the baby a kiss before they leave.
Knuckles gives me a long, lingering, almost thankful kiss before he has to go. “I wish I could stay. It’s bullshit that they don’t allow me to stay the night. Maybe I should talk to someone to see if I can get an exception.”
“You’re going to threaten a doctor?” I ask, eyebrows hitting my hairline. “I don’t think so, Mr. Just Come Back Early in the Morning. I think visiting hours start at eight.”
“I’ll be here at seven thirty then,” he says, kissing me again, and whispering into my ear, “I love you so much. I’m in awe at how you handled everything today.”
I blush, glancing down, the smile on my lips unmoving. “Thank you.”
“Good night, and I’ll see you in the morning,” he says, leaving with Willow and Westley.
He pauses at the door, and says, “Remember how we said we would just see how we do? Make our relationship be on a kind of trial basis?”
“Yeah,” I say, lip twitching.
“Consider yourself subscribed.”
I laugh, shaking my head at him as he leaves, glancing down at Walker.
I remember having that conversation with him, because I didn’t know if we could make it work, but after that it was like we were right back together, anyway.
“It’s just me and you now, my handsome little boy,” I say to my son.
I put him back in his little cot and try to get some sleep. I don’t think I’ve ever felt tired like this in my entire life, my whole body just needing rest.
It’s then that I learn that moms don’t get to rest.
Apparently sleep is a privilege for those without children only.