Page 160 of The One I Hate
And somehow, in what feels like a blink of an eye, I have this huge family, and it’s all because I fell in love with the guy I used to hate. I have women who not only have accepted me, but are already caring for me and the baby like I’m their blood. Who cleaned my house for me last week because I felt too pregnant to even move. Men who accepted me without question when it came to being with a man they consider their brother. And who put together our nursery and Simon’s ridiculous stroller. Even their kids got involved, gifting me with books and stuffed animals from their childhood that they wanted Baby Bug to have.
I thought those were only things blood did for each other. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned since moving to Rolling Hills, is that family isn’t always the ones you’re born to. Many times it’s the ones you choose.
“Okay. I’m here.”
Simon comes running out of the bathroom, still putting on his T-shirt. “Did I miss her? Is she here?”
I laugh despite another contraction hitting. “No. She’s not here. You did not miss the birth of our daughter during your five-minute shower.”
“Good,” he breathes a sigh of relief. “How are you feeling?”
He wrings out a wash cloth on one of the tray tables as I’m starting to sweat. “You know…like I’m about to push a kid out.”
“Good. I think that’s how you’re supposed to feel.”
I shoot him a look. The first of what I figure are going to be many today. “I’m going to need you to just stop talking. I know that’s hard. But for the sake of our relationship, and me not killing you, and our baby having a father, I’m going to need you to dial back the Simon today.”
He nods. “Noted.”
Amelia comes back in with my nurse and doctor. “I hear it’s time to start having a baby.”
Simon and I turn to each other and share a moment that I want to remember for the rest of my life. He brings my hands to his mouth, kissing it softly as I brush his wild hair back off his face.
“Yeah,” I say. “Let’s have a baby.”
“I need another push, Charlie. You got this.”
“No I fucking don’t!” I yell, though I do push again. I might break Simon’s hand in the process, but I push.
“Three…two…one…and relax.”
I fall into Simon’s chest, who at some point during labor moved behind me to help me stay up.
“You’re doing great, Bug,” he says, dabbing my neck and forehead with a wet cloth. “You’re so strong.”
“Fuck being strong. Fuck being pregnant. Fuck all of this. And speaking of fuck…we’re never doing that again.”
“Aw man…”
“Okay, Charlie, this is it.” Dr. Monty says. “We have a head, and I need one more.”
“You got this,” Simon whispers, giving me his hand. “Let’s meet our daughter.”
“This is it!” I yell. “If she doesn’t come now, put her back.”
“Sounds good,” Dr. Monty says. “Ready, now!”
“AHHHHHH!!!”
I don’t know how long I push. I don’t know what anything is right now. All I know is that one second all I can hear are my screams and in the next I hear the crying of my daughter.
My daughter…
“Here she is.” I fall against Simon as my breaths do their best to catch up. “We have ten fingers, ten toes, and a good set of lungs.”
I laugh against Simon, who is peppering my cheek and face with kisses.
“Daddy, would you like to cut the cord?”
