Chapter 24
ELAINA
I always imagined going into labor would be dramatic—contractions wrenching through my guts, maybe some screaming, definitely an abundance of panic and trying not to freak out as I navigated the “heading to the hospital” process.
Instead, I basically just…peed myself.
It’s both surreal and weirdly mundane, like my body didn’t get the memo that this is supposed to be the Big Moment. Life will never be the same after this. Never. There are now officially zero sleeps left before I become a mom.
But instead of chaos and upheaval, I’m weirdly calm as I emerge from the bathroom in fresh underpants and waddle toward where Hunter has the pair of sweats I requested waiting.
“Here, careful. Hold onto me,” he says, fussing like a designer-clad mother hen as I step into the clean bottoms. “I don’t want you to fall.”
“I won’t,” I say, smiling as I hold onto his shoulder and let him pull my pants up.
This isn’t even close to how I imagined this moment would go, either, but damn it’s good to have him with me. I’m not alone anymore. He’s here, hovering and fussing and looking at me like I’m a precious treasure he’s vowed to protect at all costs.
An irreplaceable treasure…
It was the perfect word. Just perfect.
“Okay, what else?” he asks as he smooths my shirt down over the top of the sweats. “Should I pack fresh clothes for after the birth? Toiletries? Maybe some?—”
“I already have all that packed in the little gray suitcase by the door,” I assure him. “The yellow suitcase next to it is for the babies. So, we just need to get those both down to the car and grab the car seats from the storage area near my parking spot and?—”
I break off as the first real contraction hits, making me suck in a surprised breath as my stomach balls into a knot.
“Oh. Wow. Okay,” I say as pain enters the picture, steady and throbbing. I frown and my shoulders instinctively creep closer to my ears, but I try to stay as relaxed as I can, remembering my birth class training.
“What’s wrong?” Hunter asks, wrapping an arm around me.
I lean against him for support. “That was a contraction,” I say, pulling in a deeper breath as it gradually begins to fade. I nod, pulse picking up as this “about to give birth” thing starts to get really real, really fast. “Yeah, that was definitely a contraction. Not fun. They weren’t kidding about the hurting part.”
“I’m sorry,” he says. “What can I do?’
“You can take the bags to the car,” I say, smiling up at him as I shift my hand to brace myself against the bureau instead of his chest. “And then come get my fat ass because I’m not sure I trust myself to go down the stairs alone right now.”
“You’re not fat, you’re pregnant and perfect, and I’ll be right back,” he says, pressing a swift kiss to my forehead before hurrying toward the door.
I watch him go, gratitude swelling in my chest.
An hour ago, I thought I’d be doing this alone. Now he’s here, solid and steady and worried and reassuring, ready to help however he can.
Tears prick my eyes. After eight months of missing him, of wondering if I’d ever feel anything like what I felt with him, he’s here. Not just physically present, but here for all of it. All of me, all of the mess, all the chaos, and most importantly, here for these two little girls. They won’t have to grow up without a father, the way I did. They’ll know their dad cares about them and their mom.
I believe Hunter will keep the promise he made with his hand over my belly. That wasn’t just a promise, it was a vow. I felt that truth with everything in me. Even if therapy and loving each other isn’t enough to make our happily ever after a reality, he’s never going to let our girls down.
But I really hope we can make happily ever after a reality…
I love this man so damned much.
He appears at the top of the stairs barely two minutes later, breathing hard as he says, “Your car is a piece of shit. I’m buying you a new one before we drive back from the hospital. If I’d known you were going to go into labor, I wouldn’t have let Mom take my car. We’ll be lucky to make it fifteen miles in that thing, let alone all the way to the hospital.”
My lips twitch. “Oh, it’ll be fine. Chum Bucket is a great little car. You’ll see.”
“Chum Bucket,” he mutters as he slides an arm around me, helping me across the room. “Named for that hideous gray and pink paint job, I assume?”
“I thought I could paint her myself with spray paint,” I say, stepping into my unlaced boots by the door. That’s where they were! Congratulating past me on her cleverness, I add, “But turns out that leaves your car looking like shit. Though in my defense, I was only nineteen at the time and?—”
I break off at the door, leaning on Hunter as another contraction spirals through me like a pain tornado. This one is even longer and more intense than the first, leaving me panting as I say, “Yeah. Downstairs. Let’s go before another one comes.”
The stairs are a slow process, each step careful, deliberate. The old wooden steps creak beneath our feet, the sound echoing through the empty alley below. The March wind whips through my hair, but I don’t mind the cold. Even just two contractions in, the pain already has me feeling overheated and sweat breaking out on my upper lip.
“Almost there,” Hunter says as we reach the bottom. “I’ll get you in the passenger seat, then go grab the car seats.”
“Great,” I say, adding in a teasing tone, “if that private equity billionaire thing ever dries up, I think you have a bright future as a valet.”
“Nope. I hate people too much to go into customer service.” He opens the passenger’s side door, guiding me inside. “My resting asshole face would kill my tips.”
I grin up at him, appreciating the joke. “Very true. It’s good you know yourself so well. The car seats are in the third storage area.” I point toward the wall of wooden storage compartments nestled beneath the stairs and small back balcony. “On the first big shelf, right above the beach wagon.”
He hurries into the shadows. The motion-sensor light flickers on, but it apparently isn’t enough for him to see. He pulls out his cell, turning on his flashlight, before locating the proper door and grabbing both car seat handles with one hand.
A moment later, he’s back at the car, depositing them in the back seat.
“The bases,” I say, trying to turn over my shoulder, but unable to twist with my giant stomach in the way. “We’ll need the bases to attach them to the car later. Maya and I were going to install them tomorrow, but obviously that won’t be happening.”
“Bases,” he repeats, frowning.
“The big black plastic things at the back of the shelf,” I say, pointing back toward the storage area. “Just reach in there. You can’t miss them.”
It takes him another moment to turn his flashlight back on and locate the bases. By the time he returns to the car, I’m in the middle of another contraction, one that draws a low moan from my throat as it reaches its peak before slowly fading away.
“Five minutes since the last one,” Hunter says, checking his very expensive watch that probably costs more than my car as he slides into the driver’s seat. “That’s fast.”
“It’s not slow,” I agree, fear tickling the back of my neck. “But labor usually takes hours.”
“Usually,” he agrees, sliding Chum Bucket’s key into the ignition. He catches my gaze. “But maybe our girls are overachievers. Like their mother.”
“More likely they’re just stubborn,” I counter. “Like their father.”
“Says the most stubborn woman I know,” he murmurs, affection in his tone.
I smile. “These poor kids. They don’t stand a chance. They’re destined to be as pigheaded as they come.”
“Destined for greatness, you mean,” he counters, shifting into reverse before pausing again. “I assume we’re going to St. Barts?”
I shake my head. “No, the Methodist hospital. So, head north. St. Bart’s doesn’t take my insurance.”
“St. Bart’s is closer,” he mutters, scowling as he backs out of my spot into the alley. “Next time, you’re going to the closest hospital, with the best doctors.”
“I don’t know about next time, buddy,” I say, secretly thrilled that he’s even kidding about more babies. It proves he’s ready for this. Maybe even more ready than even he realizes just yet. “The only way I’m even thinking about getting pregnant again is if the universe makes me a solemn promise to only give me one at a time from now on.”
“I think that’s fair,” he says. “And a reasonable request after giving us two the first time.”
Us…
It’s a sweet word, one I appreciate now more than ever.
The streets of Sea Breeze are quiet as we drive. Thursday nights are usually pretty calm this time of year, with the annual wave of tourists still a couple months out and most of the bars closing early. Only the Clam Shack still shows signs of life, warm light spilling onto the sidewalk, where a few hardy locals brave the March chill, waiting for a table to open in the tiny restaurant.
“You should call your doctor,” Hunter says as he navigates through town. “Let him or her know we’re on our way to the hospital.”
“Already done. I texted Dr. Saunders earlier while I was peeing,” I say, pulling my cell from my purse. “She’s going to meet us there in thirty minutes or so. But I should call Maya. She’s my labor coach.”
I hit Maya’s contact number, and she picks up on the first ring. “Please tell me you didn’t kill him,” she says by way of greeting. “Blood is really hard to get out of hardwood.”
I laugh, then wince as another contraction builds. “No killing,” I grit out. “We’re actually good, but um, my water broke?” I exhale, fighting the twist of pain as Maya screeches on the other end of the line.
“WHAT?!”
I pull the phone away from my ear with a wince. “Relax,” I pant. “I’m fine. It’s fine.”
“Oh my God! Where are you? Are your bags still packed? Do you need me to come get you? I was just about to leave the rental. I still need to drop Mario off with the nanny, but I can be there in?—”
“No, it’s okay, Hunter’s driving me to the hospital in Chum Bucket,” I say, pulling in a smoother breath as the pain subsides again. “We’re on our way now. Should be there in fifteen minutes or so.” I glance Hunter’s way as he accelerates out of downtown. “Maybe sooner if Hunter has anything to say about it.”
“Okay, good, I’m glad you’re on your way,” Maya says. “I’ll drop Mario off, grab a few things, and be there as soon as I can.” She hesitates a moment before adding in a softer voice, “And you’re okay? You sure? With him taking you and…everything?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.” I reach over to take Hunter’s hand, happiness flooding through me as he twines his fingers through mine. “Better than okay, actually.”
“Oh good.” Maya’s tone goes gooey. “That’s so great to hear. So, you two made up? Is he going to stay with you during the birth?”
“Yeah, he’s staying with me,” I confirm, watching his profile in the dim light.
Hunter glances over, his gaze stern. “Not going anywhere,” he says, raising his voice to ensure Maya can hear. “Not tonight or any other night, if I have anything to say about it.”
“Yay!” Maya exhales a breathy laugh. “Oh, Elaina, this is so wonderful! I was so worried I’d overstepped, but I couldn’t stand to see you miserable and going through all this alone anymore. Hold on, your mother-in-law wants to talk to you.”
“She’s not my—” I start to protest, but Margaret’s already on the line.
“Elaina, sweetheart!” Her voice is thick with emotion. “Oh, honey, I’m so happy. You have no idea. And I’m here for anything you need. Absolutely anything. How are you feeling? Are the contractions bad yet? Do I need to yell at my son?”
I laugh. “No, no yelling required. Hunter’s taking good care of me.”
“He finally pulled his head out of his butt, then?” she asks, making me snort. I glance toward Hunter to find him smiling.
“Yes, mother,” he says. “My head is fully out of my ass. And it’s going to stay that way.”
“I should hope so,” Margaret says before adding in a voice for my ears only, “And if it sneaks back up there, I’ll pry it out again, honey. Don’t you worry. He loves you so much. He really does. He just needs practice being a good partner. But I have all the faith in the world in you two. What you have is so special, and I know you’re going to build a beautiful family together.”
“Thanks. I think so, too,” I say, my eyes stinging again. “Love you, Margaret. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Oh, I am, too, sweetheart,” she says, also sounding on the verge of tears. “Is it okay if I come to the hospital with Maya? I’d love to be there for you and the babies.” She sucks in a delighted breath. “When Maya told me you were having twin girls, I could hardly contain myself.”
“Yes, of course,” I say, wincing as another contraction starts to build. “See you there. Have to go. Having a contraction.”
I end the call and cling to Hunter’s hand as the pain throbs between my hips.
“Hold on,” he says. “Only five more miles. We’re almost there, baby. You’re doing great.”
I am doing great, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to that epidural my doc promised. Screw natural childbirth, I want the drugs, anything to take the edge off what I can already tell is going to be a way more painful experience than I bargained for.
Ten minutes later, Hunter is swinging into the emergency room parking and half carrying me toward the reception desk.
As soon as he says the words, “She’s in labor, strong contractions, three to four minutes apart,” the nurses launch into motion.
The next twenty minutes pass in a blur of activity, as I’m whisked away in a wheelchair to the labor and delivery ward on the third floor, signing forms on the way as Hunter stands guard beside me, never more than a foot from my side. He helps me into my gown and holds tight to my hand as the nurses check my progress and attach monitors to my belly to track the babies’ heartbeats.
Dr. Saunders appears just minutes later, pulling on surgical gloves as she casts a curious look Hunter’s way.
“The baby daddy,” I explain as she settles into a rolling stool. “We decided we love each other, after all. He’s staying for the birth, but my birth coach is still on her way, too. So, I’ll have two hands to squeeze in half.”
“Brilliant. Two hands for two babies,” she says. She smiles at Hunter. “Welcome back, baby daddy. I’m Dr. Saunders.”
“Hunter Mendelssohn,” Hunter says. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same.” She rolls closer and lifts the drape covering my lower half. “Now, let’s see how close we are to delivering some babies.” After just a few seconds and light pressure I can barely feel over the cramping, she pulls back, her eyes wide. “Woah, lady. Eight centimeters. These girls aren’t wasting any time.”
“Eight centimeters?” I echo, panic rising in my chest as the reality of eight freaking centimeters hits hard. “Already?”
“You’re an overachiever, girl, what can I say? But you’re going to do great. No worries. Baby A is still in the perfect position. With a little bit of luck, Baby B will follow her sister’s lead, and you’ll be meeting your daughters soon!” She squeezes my ankle reassuringly before adding over her shoulder to the nurses, “Prep for delivery? I’ll scrub in and meet you in the delivery room.”
“What about the epidural?” I ask, panic rising as she scoots back, tugging off her gloves. “I was promised drugs. Good ones. The kind that make you forget you’re pushing a watermelon through a?—”
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Saunders cuts in gently as she starts for the door, “but we’re past that window. These babies are coming, and they’re coming fast. But like I said, you’ve got this. It’s going to be over before you know it.” She turns to the nurses hovering nearby, “Get Dad some scrubs and warn the team at the check-in desk that her birth coach should be arriving soon. She’ll need scrubs, too, before she joins the fun.”
“Fun?” I mutter as she disappears, my heart throbbing in my throat as I turn wide eyes Hunter’s way. “This doesn’t feel like fun.”
His hand tightens on mine as he stands steady amidst the controlled chaos unfolding around us. “But she’s right. You’ve got this. There’s nothing you can’t do, Elaina Murphy.”
“Yeah?” I squeak, pulse slowing simply from seeing his faith in me reflected so clearly in his eyes.
“Yeah.” He accepts the scrubs the tiny nurse with her hair pulled into a blond bun presses into one hand, but holds tight to mine with his other. “No doubt in my mind. You’re the strongest person I know. You inspire the hell out of me.”
Tears sting into my eyes again. But before I can tell him that I feel the same way, another contraction rips through me, stealing my words. This wave is different than the ones before—deeper, more demanding. My bones vibrate with it, a sea change unfolding at the cellular level until it feels like my body is trying to turn itself inside out.
Releasing Hunter’s hand, I bend forward in the bed, bracing my hands on my bent knees and pulling in breaths as best I can with my giant belly balled into a throbbing knot. I whimper, keening low in my throat as the pain floods through me from head to toe and my brain starts to feel floaty in my skull.
“Breathe, baby, breathe,” Hunter says, pressing a hand to my lower back, offering support, assuring me I’m not alone. “She’s supposed to breathe, right?”
“She is,” the short nurse assures him from somewhere nearby. “And she’s doing great.” Raising her voice, she adds, “Deep breaths, honey. Relax your shoulders if you can. Good job. You’re doing so good. It’s on the way out, just a few more seconds. I can see the contraction fading on the monitor.”
A few seconds later, I realize she’s right. The contraction is fading, leaving me trembling, sweat breaking out on my upper lip as I lift my head, panting, “Is that as bad as they get? Please tell me that’s as bad as they get.”
Her pale blue eyes crinkle sympathetically as she says, “That was a bad one all right. Let me get you some ice chips. Sucking on one helped distract me during labor.” To Hunter, she adds in a more urgent voice. “Scrubs. Now, Dad. And don’t forget the booties for your shoes.” She lifts a hand, signaling to another nurse. “We need to get her moving into delivery. Now.”
Nurses move into place beside me, unlocking the rolling bed. Pulse spiking again, I lock eyes with Hunter, silently pleading with him not to let them take me, though I know none of us have a choice at this point.
It doesn’t matter how much I wish the world would slow down for a second and let me catch up, this ball is rolling down a mountain, gaining momentum with every passing second.
“I’m right behind you,” he promises. “Be there as soon as I change.”
I nod, pulling in a bracing breath as another contraction starts to build. I grab fistfuls of the sheets, hanging on for dear life as the nurses start to move, rolling me down the hall as my core starts to split in two.
Tension and urgency ripple through me, summoning a groan from low in my throat as we arrive in delivery.
“As soon as this one passes, let’s move her,” Dr. Saunders announces firmly. To me, she says in a softer voice, “You’re doing great, Elaina. Labor is progressing perfectly.”
“I’m going to poop, I don’t think I can stop it,” I gasp as soon as I can speak through the pain, past caring if I embarrass myself in a room full of people. I’m no longer in control of my body, and they need to know that before I soil the delivery room and we have to start this “cleaning up to have a baby” thing all over again.
Dr. Saunders has the nerve to chuckle at my traumatic announcement. “That’s the urge to push, lady,” she says. “Your body knows what to do. Trust it. I’ll check you again in a second to be sure, but I’m guessing you’re ready to start pushing on the next contraction.”
“And if you poop, it’s fine,” the blonde nurse says softly. “Nothing we haven’t seen before. And nothing we can’t handle. We’ve got you, honey.”
“I love you,” I say, making her laugh. “No really, I do. Thank you.”
“No, problem,” she says. “I’ll go check on Dad and get him down here ASAP.”
Before I can thank her again, Hunter is suddenly beside me, looking ridiculously foxy in dark blue scrubs and a surgical mask. Even fresh from agonizing pain directly caused by his sexiness, I can’t help but take a beat to appreciate the way his shoulders fill out that shirt.
I blink up at him. “Well, hello, hot doctor,” I murmur, loopy enough from the pain that I announce without thinking, “I think I have a new role-playing fantasy.”
His eyes crinkle as the nurses giggle around us. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, taking my hand. “I heard you’re about to start pushing. What can I do to help?”
I grip his hand tighter as the wave rises inside me again. “Just don’t let go.”