Page 104 of Just Say (Hell) No
Marko’s mum, still holding his phone, said, “Oh. Wait,” and everybody looked up. “Nyree says that Ella’s decided she wants Josie there. And Hugh, if he wants to come.” She laughed. “Here’s what sheactuallysaid. ‘It’ll be, like, totally gross, but maybe Josie will need him there. Tell him he has to stand by my head and not look at anything until the end.’ I’d say she’s doing fine.”
Josie had jumped up already, her face lit up like Christmas, and Hugh had stood with her. “Going now,” she said. “Oh. Hugh. Going where?”
“We’ll ask,” he said, taking her hand. “Come on.”
“Shemustwant me,” Jakinda said. “I’m asking, too.”
Olivia had a hand on her arm. “We’ve gone over this,” she said. “Nyree did the classes with her. The room will be full of people. It’s too many.”
“I’m hermother,”Jakinda insisted. “I’m going. She needs me.”
Marko stood up. In the way. “No,” he said.
“This isn’t yours to say,” Jakinda said.
“No,” he said again. “It’s Ella’s to say. Right now,she’sthe mother. And what she says goes.”
Nyree was so not ready for this. The only problem was—neither was Ella.
They were in an operating theater. Enormous, chilly, clean, and crowded. She’d known that there’d be two of everybody here. She just hadn’t expected that to feel so… full.
“I need to… push,” Ella was groaning, as she’d been doing for the past ten minutes.
“Any minute,” the OB promised, rolling closer on his stool, his voice perfectly calm. “We need to get you set in case things take a turn. It’s what we talked about before, Ella. If something happens, it’ll happen very fast, and we need to have you ready. In case I need to turn Baby B, or if we need to go in by C-section to get him. Do you remember that?”
“Of… course,” Ella got out. “I’m not… stupid. Just… having babies.”
Nyree laughed, squeezed her hand, and said, “Good on ya. Doing awesome. Just another minute.”
The anesthesiologist, or one of them, finished taping a tube to Ella’s back. “Got it,” he said. “Good to go.”
“Is Josie… coming?” Ella asked. “I should’ve… said. I didn’t think I’d want people to… see. But… they’re hers.”
“Yeh,” Nyree said. The stupid tears were trying to spring up, now that the first dramatic rush was over. She’d never been more scared in her life, and truth be told, she still was.
The door opened, then, and there she was. Jocelyn Pae Ata, in the garb she’d worn so many times on camera. Blue gown, blue paper cap, blue scrubs, blue booties. Not looking nearly as glamorous as evil Dr. Eva. Looking thrilled, and scared, and so excited. She had Hugh right beside her. Looking like a rugby captain.
A nurse said, “Over here,” and moved them against a wall. Nobody else paid them the slightest attention. The doctor had a hand on Ella’s belly and was saying, “All right, Ella. Just like you practiced. This first one’s not going to be comfortable, but every minute the epidural’s in there, it’ll get better. You’re a strong girl. Time to be strong now. Let’s do it.”
Nyree found out, later, that it had taken fourteen minutes for Baby A to arrive. They felt like forty. Breathing with Ella, keeping her arm behind her head to help her sit up, and chanting along with the nurse.“Push. Push. Push.Come on, Ella.Push.”Until, between contractions, Ella gasped, “I’mpushing,all right? Give it arest.”
Nyree laughed out loud, hugged Ella’s neck, and said, “You’re doing awesome. You’re doing amazing. You’re having a baby.”
“No,” Ella said, her face starting to twist again. “I’m having a… hippo.” And Nyree had to laugh again.
When Ella was calling out, though, and the doctor was saying, “Head’s coming. We’ve got black hair here. Deep breath, and push him out,” nobody was laughing. Ella’s strong young body strained all the way from her forehead to her feet, her belly pulled taut, and she pushed with everything she had.
In the corner, Josie had her hands to her cheeks, and Hugh had his arm around her. On the bed, Ella was wailing, and Nyree was saying, “Come on. You’ve got this. Comeon.”And then the doctor was telling her, “Right. Here we are. Shoulders are coming. One more easy push. Here he comes.”
Noah James Latimer came into the world fighting. Arms waving, legs pedaling, full head of black hair looking like it wanted to spring from his scalp. Eyes screwed shut. And screaming.
Josie was laughing, and Hugh was crying. Ella was lying back again, taking deep, shuddering breaths, trying to smile as the nurse lifted the baby high. And saying, “Look, Josie. Look. It’s your baby.”
Hunter John Latimer came more easily. Calmly, like he’d always meant to be here, sliding smoothly into the doctor’s hands, then curling into the nurse’s. Crying a bit when he was weighed, then apparently deciding that he could leave it to his blanket-wrapped brother, who was being held fast against Josie’s chest, his breathing having passed muster, but still protesting the indignity of it all.
“Five pounds eight ounces,” the nurse announced. “Only a little off his brother. You had a lot of baby in there, love.”
“I know,” Ella said. Drowsily, now, like she was ready to fall asleep. Well, she’d earned it. “I call it… the economy plan.”
