Twenty #2
"Your body's been doing the work all night." Well. For once my body has chosen productivity. The contractions are close enough now that conversation happens in strange little fragments.
Alexander continues timing them. I start pretending not to notice he's timing them. Every time one hits, he quietly reaches for my hand.
Around sunrise there's a quiet knock on the door. The midwife pokes her head in.
"Your friends are asking if they can say hello." I close my eyes, wondering if I can deal with all of them when I am in pain.
"They brought coffee." She adds, probably sensing my hesitation.
"That changes things…Fine." The door opens. Luca appears first. Naturally. He's wearing jeans, an oversized jumper and enough concern to almost disguise his excitement. Almost. He takes one look at me.
"…Babe."
"What?"
"You look…" He gestures vaguely. "…Busy." I bark out a laugh. Immediately regret it.
"Get out or I will stab you."
"See? Humour is helpful." He points triumphantly at Alexander. "She's coping."
Alexander doesn't even look up.
"She's just threatened you."
"Also known as a coping strategy when pushing out tiny beings." Elsie walks over first. No fuss. No baby talk. She simply brushes my hair back from my face.
"Leo's okay." My shoulders immediately drop.
"He ate breakfast. He also seemed to have packed three dinosaurs." She smiles at me. "Noah is with him now. He made Milo promise not to let anyone steal his chips." I smile back.
"Sounds about right." Liv hangs back near the door. Coffee in one hand. Looking deeply uncomfortable with this.
"I brought caffeine."
"I love you."
"I know." She points at Alexander.
"You." He looks up.
"Don't let her convince you she's fine."
"I won't."
"Good."
They stay maybe… Five minutes. Just enough to show they love me without me lashing out at them in my dramatically fluctuating mood. Luca kisses my forehead with more flair than needed. As though I am going to war. Which is inaccurate, but I am sure my uterus disagrees.
"If you die, I'm deleting Ethan's LinkedIn."
"I'm not dying."
"I know." He sniffs the air in feigned indignation. "But it seemed appropriate to tack on a threat."
Once they're gone, the room feels quieter.
Alexander pulls the chair closer to the bed.
Our knees touch. Neither of us says anything for a while.
There's nothing left to say. Every few minutes another contraction arrives.
Every few minutes he reaches for my hand.
Never missing one. Not once. Hours disappear.
Time stops meaning anything. Someone offers me gas.
Someone checks my blood pressure. Someone tells me I'm doing well.
I inform them, quite passionately, that they're all liars. Alexander laughs. The midwife laughs. Even I laugh. Then another contraction makes me cry instead. By early afternoon I'm too tired to joke anymore.
The midwife checks me one last time. A smile spreads across her face.
"You are at ten centimetres." She looks up. "I think it's time to meet your daughter."
The room goes strangely quiet. Not silent. There are voices. Someone says, "One more, Harper." Someone else tells me I can do it. A monitor beeps steadily beside my head.
But all of it feels… Far away. Another contraction tears through me. I bear down because everyone is telling me to. And maybe because my body doesn't seem interested in asking permission anymore. I squeeze Alexander's hand so hard I hear his knuckles crack. He doesn't even flinch though.
"You're nearly there."
"I hate you."
"I know." Another push. Everything burns. For one impossible second I honestly wonder whether women have collectively agreed to lie about childbirth because if we told the truth the human race would die out within a generation.
Then… Instant relief. A weight disappears from inside me. The room fills with the loudest, angriest scream I've ever heard. I blink. The scream keeps coming. The midwife laughs.
"Well…" She grins down at the tiny person. "She's certainly got opinions."
Someone lifts a tiny, slippery little person into my arms.
"Oh…" It's barely a whisper. She's warm.
So warm. Dark hair plastered to her tiny head.
Her little face is scrunched in outrage.
Both fists clenched. She is absolutely furious about the entire experience.
I stare at her. She stops crying for just a second.
Our eyes meet. Everything else… Just disappears.
I don't know how long I sit there. Seconds. Minutes. Years. She fits against my chest like she was always meant to. I count her fingers. Ten. Then her toes. Ten. Her tiny nose, tiny ears, her perfect little mouth.
"Hi," I whisper. My voice breaks on the one syllable. "I'm your mum."
Beside me… Alexander hasn't spoken. I look up. Tears are running silently down his face while he looks at our daughter like she's the most unbelievable thing he's ever seen. He catches me looking and laughs awkwardly.
"I know." He wipes his eyes. "I know."
"I wasn't going to say anything."
"You were thinking it."
"I was." He lets out a shaky breath.
"I've argued cases in front of judges." Another laugh. "I've negotiated million-dollar settlements." He looks back at her. "…None of that prepared me for this."
The midwife smiles.
"Would you like Dad to cut the cord?" Alexander blinks as though the words make no sense.
"What?"
"The cord."
He looks at me. At the baby. Back at the midwife.
"…Can I?" I give him a watery smile.
"You'd better." His hands shake so much the midwife has to steady the scissors. When it's done, he just… Stares.
"I did that."
"You did."
"I've never cut anything this important before."
A little while later, the midwife asks, “Have you decided on a name?"
Alexander looks at me. We'd talked about dozens. Maybe hundreds. But somehow… Only one feels right. I look down at the tiny girl sleeping against my chest.
"Grace." Alexander smiles immediately and nods at me in agreement.
"Grace."
The midwife writes it down.
"Grace Bennett."
I shake my head.
"No."
Everyone looks at me. I glance at Alexander.
"If that's still okay with you…" His eyes soften. "Grace Hayes."
His tears start to fall again as he looks at me with an expression that seems a lot like awe.
"Grace Hayes."
For the first time… She feels real. There's a quiet knock. The door opens just enough for Elsie to peek her head around it.
"Can we come in?" I nod. She disappears. A second later the door opens properly. Leo walks in first. Still in his dinosaur pyjamas. Still clutching his backpack. He stops dead beside the bed.
"…Whoa." He stares into the bassinet. "She's…" He looks back at me. "So little."
"She is."
"Is she broken?" I laugh so hard I immediately regret it as I feel the aches through my body.
"No."
"She just looks…" He scrunches up his face as he tried to find the right word. "…Very new." Alexander chuckles.
"I think that's because she is." Leo reaches one careful finger into the bassinet. Grace immediately wraps her whole hand around it. His mouth falls open.
"She's holding my finger." Nobody says anything. Nobody needs to. He just keeps looking at her. Eventually he whispers,
"I'll teach you so many things. I will be your best friend."
I think that's when it really hits me. Not when she cried. Not when I held her. Not even when we named her. It happens watching my little boy promise his baby sister something so extraordinary.
I look around the room. Alexander. Leo. Grace. Elsie quietly crying in the corner. Luca pretending he isn't. Liv refusing to admit she is. None of us planned this. None of us expected it.
But somehow… Here we are. A family. Not the one I thought I'd have. The one that found me anyway.
And I realise that I don't feel broken. I feel home.