‘BREATHE, BABY.’
‘Jared… I… aaaammmm,’ she growls like she wants to kill me.
‘You’re doing so well, baby. I’m so proud of you.’
‘Aaaaaaarghhhhhh.’ She squeezes my hand, and I seriously think she’s stopping the blood flow to my digits, but I grin and bear it. She’s giving birth. It’s the least I can do.
‘Baby, how about some pain relief now?’ I ask and soon wish I’d kept my fucking mouth shut.
‘I DON’T FUCKING WANT IT!’ she growls out, and I’m not going to lie, she’s doing a pretty good impersonation of the exorcist right now. But again, I bite my tongue.
‘Okay, baby, I’m just checking that’s all.’
‘Please, can you get me a drink?’ And right then, she’s back to normal, for a second anyway. Apparently, I wasn’t fast enough getting her water, because she’s back to the exorcist seconds later. Jesus, I hate seeing her in this much pain, when there is fuck all I can do but stand by and watch.
‘Mrs Stone, if you want an epidural, I’d say now is a good time.’
Her eyes widen, and she glares at the midwife. ‘Why? Is something wr…oooooong?’ she says having another bad contraction.
‘You’re having twins, and with multiple births, an epidural is usually a good idea, just in case.’
‘In case of what?’ I ask while Devon grits her teeth against another contraction.
‘In case an emergency C-section is needed. It’s not often multiples reach this stage—we normally deliver early. But your wife insisted she wanted a natural birth.’
‘I know what she wants, but are you saying there are problems? Tell me?’
‘No, the babies seem fine right now.’
‘I need to push,’ Devon groans out.
‘I don’t think you’re near that stage yet—maybe you’re feeling a bit of pressure.’
‘I need to puuuush.’ Devon grits her teeth and twists onto her knees, her arms braced on the end of the bed. There is a gush of liquid, and the midwife takes a look.
‘Oh, well that developed quickly. You’re quite right. Baby number one is almost here.’ Devon glares at her, and if looks could kill she’d be fucking struck down where she stood.
‘Okay, Mrs Stone, on your next contraction, I want a big push, right down into your bottom, okay?’ Devon’s eyes close, and she’s trying to catch her breath, ready for the next one. I kiss her forehead, and she’s sweating so much that I ask for a damp flannel from the assistant midwife. She gets one, and as I place it on her head, she moans a little, and I know it was a good idea.
‘Keep them coming please, it’s helping,’ I tell the assistant, who looks a little affronted that I’m giving her orders. But tough shit, honey, my female needs it.
Another contraction takes hold of Devon, and she bears down. The midwife is using a mirror to check her progress.
‘That’s it, Devon, breathe and push again. Push, push, push, hold it as long as you can.’ Devon is almost purple in the face while she’s pushing. ‘That’s it, Devon. Well done, baby’s head is out, have a feel.’ Devon’s hand goes down, and I feel a little bit queasy, but I ignore it . The next push has baby number one into the hands of the midwife.
‘Baby girl,’ she says cutting the cord and holding her up to Devon, who is still panting through more contractions because baby number two is coming. I can’t move. I’m fucking stuck to the floor. My baby girl is handed to me, and my heart swells up so fucking big. I’m in love with her instantly. How is that even possible? I look at Devon who is desperate to see our baby girl, now wrapped in a pink blanket, and I move towards her. Her face splits into a grin, and then a grimace, as she bears down to push again.
‘Keep it going. Push, push, hold it, hooold it, really good. Well done. The head is almost there now.’
The assistant takes my baby girl, and I move back to Devon’s side. We have doctors in the corner of the room ready for anything, but so far, Devon has done well, and our baby girl is doing fantastic too. As another contraction takes hold, Devon screams a little, and blood gushes. I look at the midwife, and she goes into action. Getting the mirror, she says, ‘A small tear, but your baby’s head is out, another push or two and baby number two will be here.’ I relax a little because seeing the redness of the blood scared the shit out of me. I mean the whole fucking thing is blood and gunk and shit, but that was different. Devon’s face contorts in pain, and she starts to pant, getting ready for the big push.
‘That’s it, Devon, hold it, breathe through it and now push, push.’
Baby number two is born. My son. Bigger than his sister. And my god does he have a set of lungs on him. Where our daughter was quietly brought into the world, he came in screaming the place down. The midwife wraps him and again, hands him off to me. The love I feel at this moment is unbelievable. I never thought it would be possible to love anything more than I do Devon, but these two have proved me wrong. I lay my boy down next to his sister so he can be weighed and measured, and I move back to Devon’s side. The nurses are delivering the afterbirth, and I hold her hand.
‘Are they okay?’ she asks me eyes brimming with tears.
‘So fucking perfect, baby, so perfect.’ I smile as her tears overspill. ‘I can’t believe you did that,’ I tell her.
‘What gave birth?’ She laughs.
‘Grew two little people—our little people.’ I wipe her face with a towel, and she leans into my hand. I kiss her lips murmuring, ‘So proud of you.’ The nurses are about done, and they just need to make a couple of stitches. So when the babies are finished being weighed, they’re handed to me. One in each arm. I couldn’t be prouder as I take our children over to my wife.
‘We did good.’ She grins, ‘They’re so beautiful.
‘Baby one weight five pounds and seven ounces. And baby two weighs six pounds, ten ounces,’ the assistant tells us.
‘Thank you. What time were they born?’
‘Eleven seventeen and eleven twenty.’
‘Three minutes. She’s his three-minutes-older, big sister,’ Devon tells me. I chuckle knowing that she will lord that shit all over him anytime she can.
‘I love you, baby. You did so well.’
‘I love you too.’