Page 77 of Lost Lyrics

Dr. Mila grabbed a set of disposable gloves out of the box on the wall, snapped them on, and stepped in beside Tia. Loretta gave the doctor a quick update.

After Dr. Mila did a quick examination of Tia, she nodded. “Tia? Are you ready to meet your baby?”

“Please? Get this thing out of me.”

“You have to do that part, but I’ll be with you every step of the way. Are you ready to push?”

Loretta stayed monitoring the machines. Pamela wheeled a trolley of implements toward the far end of the bed. The blood drained from my face. I hoped the doctor didn’t have to use any of them.Ergh!I wasn’t looking forward to this.

I squeezed Tia’s hands. “Tee, I’m sorry for knocking you up.”

Her grip tightened around my fingers. “I’m not. We want this. Just don’t let go of my hand.”

“Never.”

“Arrrrgh! Fuck!” Her pain-filled cry punched my gut. “We’re only having one kid this way. This sucks.”

“One is more than I could’ve ever dreamed of, so I’m okay with that.”

“I know. But if we have a second, it will be via C-section. That has to be easier and less painful than this.”

Another child? Wow!We hadn’t talked about more than one. But I was down for whatever she wanted. I kissed her sweaty forehead. “Let’s start with this baby first.”

“Okay,” she said through clenched teeth and dipped her chin. Exhaustion had already drained the light in her eyes. “One baby, coming up.”

Dr. Mila moved into position, seated between Tia’s raised legs, and wriggled her facemask into place. She patted Tia’s knee. “On the next contraction, I want you to push.”

Tears sprang from Tia’s eyes as she nodded. She monkey-gripped my hand super tight, cutting off my circulation. I didn’t care.

“You got this, babe. I love you.” I swiped the damp strands of hair off her face.

“I’m scared.” She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Don’t be. I’m here. You can do this.”

The lines on the monitor waved. The contraction hit and Tia pushed, screaming as she curled forward. My stomach cinched as if I felt every contraction, but I knew mine didn’t come close to what she was going through.

“That’s it, Tia,” Dr. Mila bobbed her head. “You’re doing great. Let’s do the same again.”

“ARRRRGH!” Tia screamed and pushed. “Lewis, why the fuck do you have to have such a big head? This baby has taken after you.”

“I don’t have a big head.”Do I?But yeah, the baby was above average in our previous scans.

“Wanna bet?” Tia hissed.

She strained and pushed. Her cries reverberated off the walls. Tia collapsed, exhausted, against the pillow. The same motions went on and on. Push after push. Contraction after contraction.

Tia was spent. I was drained, but didn’t falter in giving her words of encouragement, holding her hand, soothing her brow with a cloth, or loving her with all my heart.

Somehow she kept going, digging deep to find new strength, and tapped into her energy reserves. She was my pillar of strength more than I was hers.

An hour later, Dr. Mila gave Tia the thumbs-up as shenodded. “That’s it. I can see the head. We’re almost there.” Fiery encouragement charged through the doctor’s tone. “You can do this. Give me a big push.”

“I can’t,” Tia sobbed. “I’m tired. Just cut it out of me. Fuck this shit.”

“Tee?” I kissed her hand. “I want to meet our baby. Don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Her chin trembled. “I do.”

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