Page 68 of Just Like in the Movies
The nurse showed Mike where he could put my bag so it was out of the way, then left us alone for a few minutes to get settled while they did paperwork or something. I wasn’t paying too much attention at that point because another contraction had started and I was practicing my breathing and trying not to worry too much about how much this was going to hurt.
“You okay?” Mike asked, reaching for my hand.
“Dunno?” The squeezing ache let go and I took a deep breath. “Ugh.”
He kissed the top of my head. “They’re bringing everything we need. Did you want to call your mom and let her know the show’s on the road?”
I sent him a look that I hoped adequately expressed my horror at his pun. “Sure. I think we’ll be busy later.”
He laughed and pulled out his phone.
“Don’t you dare take a picture of me!” I warned him.
“Promise. The couch isn’tthatcomfortable.” He got on the phone and moments later he was saying, “Hi, it’s Mike. We’re at the hospital.” He listened for a second, then told her, “About five minutes. Maybe a little less now.” He grinned and turned to me. “She wants to know if you’re still planning to do this naturally.”
“Yes,” I told him. “Just give me the phone, okay?”
He handed it over and while I was saying hi to Mom, he dragged a chair over beside the bed and began to rub my legs. “Your feet are cold,” he mouthed. “I’ll get your slippers.”
I made a face, but let him go get them. They were new and I didn’t want them ruined, but they could come off again when things got messy. And my feetwerecold.
The nurses came back in and it was like the baby had just been waiting for them to arrive, because my belly went hard as a rock and I forgot that I was on the phone with Mom as the contraction totally took over my existence.
When I was aware of anything else again, Mike was holding the phone and talking soothingly to my mother and the nurses were watching me with sympathetic eyes. “There’s still time for an epidural if you want one, honey,” one of them whispered to me as she straightened the sheets. “Nothing wrong with getting one, I can have the anesthesiologist up here in a jiffy if you want him.”
“I can do this,” I said stubbornly. “Omegas have been doing this for ages before modern medicine came around.” The thought of a needle going into my spine was the other half of my decision to do this completely unaided chemically, but I wasn’t going to mention that. I didn’t want Mike to think I was a coward, or weak.
I could do this. Icould.
Mike put the phone away. “Your mom is freaking,” he said with amusement. “I told her we were fine. That you were fine.” He took my hand and squeezed reassuringly. “You’re the best.”
I smiled and held his hand to my cheek. One of the nurses came in with a bowl and several stark white towels on a table that she rolled in behind my bed. “If your mouth gets dry, Dad there can give you some ice.”
I nodded—I’d been over this in pre-natal classes. Puking on everyone while I was in labor wasn’t on my bucket list, so I was glad to have that possibility off the table.
Another nurse flipped up the hem of my hospital gown and started wrapped a huge black belt over my belly. “Just for tracking contractions and listening to the baby’s heart. Do you want me to turn on the external speaker?”
I nodded, even though I’d heard his heart before. But it reminded me… “We still haven’t picked a name,” I said, suddenly worried. “He’s going to be here soon and we won’t know what to call him.”
“There’s time,” he reminded me.
“No,” I panicked. “We need to pick one.” Just in case.
“Well, we can give him all three,” Mike said, humoring me.
I would have blasted him, but the next contraction was starting and I flailed about, desperately searching for his hand to hold. Mike caught my hand and held it like we were going to arm-wrestle. As the contraction peaked, I couldn’t help a short cry of pain and then, mercifully, it eased off and I could lie back and gather my strength for the next one.
“You okay?” he asked and held our linked hands to his chest.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“That looked like it hurt.” Mike brushed my hair out of my face. “Are you sure you don’t want something for the pain?”
I shook my head, my stomach twisting queasily at the idea of a needle. “It’s okay. They say you forget all about it after.”
He nodded, but didn’t look convinced. I didn’t have time to deal with that, though, because the next contraction had already started. I took a new grip on his hand and began to pant like they’d taught me in pre-natal. Mike didn’t say much, but his presence by my side was way more comforting than I’d expected.
“Phew,” I said at the end of that one. “How much longer?”
