Page 68 of Flawless Lyric

He’s not here!

Micah’s not here and I’m starting to freak out since everyone’s poking and prodding while hooking me up to all these machines. Doc Taylor has been talking to me nonstop, but I haven’t heard a word he’s said. I need Micah to be my ears since I’m too busy trying not to push.

When he busts through the double doors, he looks exactly how I feel. Scared and overwhelmed.

Reaching out, he grabs my hand and squeezes. Giving me the strength that I need to face whatever happens next. In a split second, he’s taking control and I’m so very grateful.

“Okay, Doc. Fill me in. What have I missed?”

“I’ve given her some medication to relax her uterus, in the hope it will stop the labor. She’s also hooked up to an IV for extra fluids. And she’ll be spending the night or more in the hospital so we can monitor her more closely. If and when she needs antibiotics, we’ll be able to administer them right away through the IV.”

I get a little agitated that they’re talking about me like I’m not in the room.

“What happens if the medication doesn’t work, and her labor continues?” See, this is the reason I need someone here with me.

“Then you’ll be parents sooner than you expected, but let’s take it one step at a time.”

Micah nods before leaning in to kiss my brow, whispering, “We got this, Beauty.”

I so wish I was as confident as he is right now. Unfortunately, this baby has a mind of his own as I breathe through another contraction. Oh god, I just said he, didn’t I?

“Is this medicine a one-shot deal or can you keep giving it to her?” Micah is a godsend.

“I can give her a second dose in about twenty minutes, but this is a temporary fix. I wouldn’t recommend using it for more than forty-eight hours. It gives us a small window of time to figure out what’s happening and how developed the fetus is.”

Now that he’s here, I absorb every word. My heart sinks when I pick up on the word fetus. Not baby, not he, or anything in between. He’s using a clinical term like my baby doesn’t stand a chance. I want to scream “Stop!” This is my child. Our child. I can’t handle another miscarriage. Not after I’ve felt him move inside of me. No! I can’t stop the tears from coming any longer.

“Hey, hey, Beauty. Shh, it’s going to be fine. I promise. Years from now we’ll sit him down and tell him what a little shit he was for scaring the bejesus out of his parents because he couldn’t wait another two months.” My tears come faster than his thumbs and lips can wipe them away.

At first I think it’s Micah rubbing my inner thigh, until Doctor Taylor speaks. “Relax, Lyric. You’re seven months pregnant and believe it or not, I’ve delivered my share of preemie babies before. In fact, I have a whole wall dedicated to them. All of them are healthy and thriving. Let’s focus on the next few hours. Okay?”

I have no words, so I nod as Micah answers for me. “Okay, Doc. We’ll do whatever you need us to do.”

By the time my contraction is over, I’m exhausted. Apparently, I’ve been in labor all weekend long and didn’t realize it. I only have myself to blame for not coming in sooner. Maybe if I did, the doc could have stopped my contractions once and for all.

I doze off and on for the next few hours. The medicine takes the edge off, but it didn’t stop the contractions. I keep touching my belly to make sure there’s movement, and the fetal monitor is music to my ears. Doc said our baby’s a fighter and is holding up better than we are.

At this point, I believe it since I feel like I’m falling apart.

“Micah, now’s your chance to grab something to eat or drink. It’s going to be a long night and I need you strong and alert when your son makes his appearance into the world.”

I don’t have the heart to tell him we won’t be able to hold him. And he might not have the chance to cut the umbilical cord. Most likely they will rush him to the NICU right away to be examined. Where they’ll put him in an incubator to sustain his body temperature.

There are so many thoughts racing through my head right now. One of them being, I wish my mom was still alive to hold my hand and give me comfort. What a foolish thought for a forty-year-old pregnant woman to have, but I miss her so very much.

“I’m not leaving you, Beauty. So get that through your pretty little head. It’s you and me, and soon baby will make three.” How can he stay so positive after everything that’s happened?

“How are you feeling Lyric?” Doc Taylor asks as he walks into the room.

“I’m ready to have this baby. My contractions are about two minutes apart and last for sixty seconds.”

I know Micah’s angry since I just mentioned he could leave when I’m so close to delivering this baby. But, as he said, it’s not my first rodeo. And just because my contractions are coming fast and lasting longer doesn’t mean he’s in the right position.

“Okay, Lyric. The medicine bought us some time, but this little one isn’t having it. Let’s take a look.”

I flinch when he snaps on a glove and performs another vaginal exam. It’s painful and feels like I’m being split right down the middle.

“You’re doing great, Lyric. The good news is the baby’s in position and you’re nine centimeters dilated. Not much longer and you’ll get to meet this little one.” After throwing away his gloves, he pats my shoulder and walks out the door.

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