Page 25 of In The Game

I’ve been in the worst pain of my life for over twenty hours. I’m alone and scared and not sure how much longer I can hold on.Why won’t this baby come out of me?

“Is my baby okay?” I’m panicking.

“The monitor on your stomach still has a steady heartbeat. Baby is doing fine.”

Well, I’m glad they’re comfortable!

“This kid is going to pay for putting me through so much agony. I’m gonna use their college fund to—aaaaaaaah!—” I take short breaths like they showed me in class. I grunt, and focus my energy. My voice comes out like it’s possessed by a demon. “—buy a boat!”

My nurse gives me a small chuckle.

“It’s not supposed to hurt like this, right?”

She gives me a sad smile. This can’t be normal. I have a high pain tolerance, but this shit is like nothing I’ve ever experienced in my life. There’s not a word for it.

She holds out an emesis bag in time for me to rip it from her fingers and throw up again. My entire body is shaking.Shit, am I going to die?“Let me grab the doctor, are you good for a couple minutes?”

I nod and vomit again. I’m mad at my mother, I’m mad at Barrett, I’m mad at every person who has abandoned me in this pregnancy. I only like Heather, everyone else can eat stairs.

My doctor comes into the room, and I plead with her to take me out of my misery. “How we doing?”

“I’m tapping out. There has to be another way. I can’t keep going.”

She has me lie on my back so she can check my cervix. “Raleigh, you’re not progressing. I think it’s time we consider a cesarean.”

“Okay.” I turn my head and vomit again. I never thought this was the way my baby would come into the world, but I’m about two minutes away from asking them for a scalpel so I can do it myself. “Let’s do it.”

As soon as I give the nod, four more nurses enter the room, I’m unhooked from machines, and the bed is moving. I’m wheeled into the brightly lit operating room, machines are stationed in different corners. One of the machines has blankets and a little hat sitting on it.That’s for my baby.The space is cold and sterile, but everyone present is cheery and happy to see me. Two new nurses help me sit up on the bed. “Lean into me, hun.”

I hunch forward and try my damndest to stop shaking while anewanesthesiologist—thank Christ—puts a giant needle in my back. I don’t even feel it, the pain from the needle is child’s play compared to what I’ve been dealing with. The hardest part is holding perfectly still while my body wars against the contractions.

“You’re doing good, Raleigh. Almost done.” They lay me back down, and for the first time in twenty-two hours, I can take a full breath. Tears of relief spill from my eyes. I truly thought I might not survive the pain.

The next thing I know, Heather is back by my side, this time wearing surgical scrubs. “Feeling better?”

“Oh my God, this is so much easier.” I actually laugh.

The doctor speaks up, “Okay, Raleigh, do you feel this?”

I feel nothing.It’s lovely.

“Nope, all good.”

“Excellent. We are going to perform a cesarean and get your baby out. Ready?”

“Soready.” I smile as it dawns on me,I’m about to meet my baby.My sweet little boy or girl I’ve been carrying around forwell overforty weeks. Heather squeezes my hand.

There’s a plastic sheet blocking the view of my lower half so I can’t see what they’re doing. All I hear is sporadic suctioning and muffled talking between the surgeon and the techs. Every once and a while, a tool drops onto a metal tray.

The last twenty-four hours have felt like pure chaos. Foreign, guttural groans of pain coming from my throat, the constant sour taste in my mouth from vomiting, and excruciating contractions that can be described only as whatever comes after wishing for death. But here in the OR, it’s peaceful. It’s quiet, everyone’s voice is relaxed and easy. I’m finally not in pain. Maybe Idied.

“Do you think you’re going to have a boy or a girl?” Heather queries, distracting my twisted train of thought.

“I’m tempted to say girl based on how stubborn they’ve been about staying inside my uterus, but I can’t shake this feeling that it’s a boy.”

“You’ve done a phenomenal job hanging in there. You’re one tough mother.”

I blow out a breath of air. “That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I still ended up here.” I raise my eyes and look around. I can’t gesture with my hands, they’re strapped to boards like a crucifix.

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