Page 142 of Power Move
Davey approached my hospital bed, brushing by Mona, who moved aside.
“I’m going to give you all space,” Mona said. “I want to hear when they are here, okay?”
“I will send you a text,” Davey agreed. “If that is cool?”
“That’s perfect,” Mona smiled. “Good luck, Eva. You’ll do great.”
Mona patted Davey’s back, and he dropped to the chair where she sat. He pulled it closer, holding my hand so tight. I’d never seen him cry like this. It occurred to me we’d never broken up, but he worried the same. Why was he so emotional? He wasn’t angry or cold.
“I never wanted to say such awful things, Eva.”
“I get why you were upset,” I sighed, brushing his cheek. “Ididlie. Ididmeet Mona.”
“Let me be clear that it really wasn’t Mona. It was you keeping things from me, but I understand I wasn’t exactly sensitive of what you needed. You could have told me about Carter.”
“It’s okay. We were both raw and I worried you’d hassle me about working too much or being too invested with the dog, but I should have known better. I should have trusted you would support me.”
“I never would have said that. I did want you to stop working on leave, but also… I didn’t know you were working so hard to make me happy or how much it mattered to you. Eva,youmake me happy. This…”
He put his hand on my stomach. “This makes me happy. These babies mean everything to us both. I don’t need anything else.”
I grunted through a contraction. “But you have the company?—”
“Fuck it,” Davey said. “It is meaningless if I do not have the three of you. Set that aside. All I want to do is focus on gettingthese babies here safely, okay? No more work talk. We’ll have months to discuss what is next.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
“You… you named them?”
“I hate that Robbie will be David Robert the Third or whatever. It’s annoying, but we can agree to call him Robbie. I thought about it a lot. He has my dad’s name as his middle name—same as you. And your dad meant the world to you. I gave in. Max was perfect, as you well knew. So, I made the choice. You don’t hate it?”
“I love it.” Davey leaned to kiss my forehead. “With one important change.”
He hopped up, grabbed the dry erase marker and added something.
Pavlak-Delphine.
“They deserve both our names, Eva,” Davey said. “You made them, and it isyourdetermination that will make them strong. They’re Pavlaks as much as Delphines.”
Now,Ifought tears as our doctor appeared.
“So, it looks like they might give us abitof an unwelcome surprise,” he said. “But we’re in good shape. I think the best way to proceed here is to see if the labor stops. If it gets more consistent or your water breaks, I will suggest we decide by five tonight Twin A is in a good position, so we can attempt a vaginal delivery, but I’ll give you some time to think about that. More than likely, I think you will be parents soon.”
That was final. We were having these babies.
39.THE BOYS
Davey
How women managedto evict children from their bodies I didn’t understand, but Eva was a warrior. She gave birth in an operating room—a precaution for the twins—and didn’t bat an eye at the two-dozen people present. Our goal was to deliver two premature babies into the world. We all silently prayed for strong lungs and a healthy mom. Eva’s normal argumentative, demanding side didn’t come out. I worried her quiet demeanor signaled something was wrong.
By instinct, Eva preserved the energy her body needed to expel two humans, aware it was a marathon, not a sprint. I focused on her cues and beat down my squeamishness. There weresomany germs and things that could go wrong, but I couldn’t worry about those problems. They didn’t matter. I dabbed her forehead with a cold washcloth. I held her legs as she pushed, and I quietly encouraged her. Sensing too much hubbub would annoy Eva, I kept my voice quiet and calm.
“Just a few more pushes,” the doctor said. “You can do this!”
“You’ve got it, baby,” I said. “Just a couple more.”
Eva dug deeper, giving over to her competitive side. What mighttake a mortal three pushes, took her only one. The silence in the room faded as two neonatologists took over, shepherding the baby to an incubator. I expected a cry but got nothing. I saw only a flash of him—no face, no adorable feet. They worked tirelessly to stabilize him. Thankfully, the nurse at Eva’s head had words of wisdom.
