Chapter 37
CHAPTER 37
R en
Trix closes her eyes when Taylor Swift sings the opening lines of “Lover.” Attached to a small speaker near the hospital bed, my phone works through a playlist I made weeks ago.
“How did you know exactly which songs I’d want to hear? This is perfect,” Trix coos, reaching for my hand without opening her eyes. She knows exactly where to find me because I haven’t left her side for the past two hours.
Two long hours of labor, and there’s no baby in sight.
“I’ve been keeping a list, actually.” I don’t mind divulging my secrets to winning her heart, at least some of them.
Her eyes pop open. “Really? For how long?”
“Pretty much since I saw you at Oxbow that day.”
She shakes her head and gives me a lazy smile. “Who could’ve known that day that we’d be bound together?”
I don’t waste a second answering .
“Me. I knew it then, and I know it even more now.”
Trix squeezes my hand, and my eyes alternate between hers and the line on the monitor that keeps spiking each time she has a contraction. They’re still over two minutes apart, but they’ve been getting closer together over the past two hours. I watch her face screw up as the contraction rips through her, and she sucks in a slow breath and lets it out in a whoosh.
Even with the epidural, she still feels them. I can tell by how hard she’s gripping my hand. “Do you need more pain meds?”
I expect a nod or shake of her head, but Trix, in her usual fashion, has a long explanation. “The epidural is helping a lot, but you heard the nurse. I need to feel some sensation so I can push when it’s time,” she huffs out as she breathes through the contraction.
“Yeah. Is it time?” I ask, even though I know her guess is as good as mine until the nurse measures how effaced she is.
“You’d think,” she grits out.
The contraction finishes, and Trix turns her head to smile at me. “Whew. Better. Is everyone still here?” She means her family.
It’s three in the morning, and her siblings have all been sitting in the waiting area since we called to say we were headed to the hospital. “Last I checked. I can tell them to come back in the morning,” I offer.
“They won’t leave. They’re stubborn like that.”
A laugh barks out of me before I can stop it. Trix narrows her eyes at me, but then she rolls them. “Yeah, it runs in the family.”
The door to the labor room swings open, and our nurse walks in. She snaps on a pair of gloves. “I saw you had another good contraction. They’re getting closer together. Let’s see how dilated you are.”
I stay near the head of the bed while she measures with her fingers and meets our eyes with a satisfied look. “I’m going to call your doctor. You’re fully dilated, plus one. Get ready to push when she gets here. ”
A nervous surge runs through me. It’s like no pregame jitters I’ve ever experienced. Suddenly, all the stress about wins and losses pales in comparison to this moment. We’re about to meet our baby. Trix is bringing life into the world, and I’m nervous as hell.
I sink onto the rolling stool, lean my elbows on my knees, and support my forehead with my hands.
“You okay?” Trix asks, side-eyeing me from the bed.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
“You don’t look good.”
I can’t do this to her. I mean, yeah, I feel like someone gut punched me, and if I was on the ice, I’d be looking for somewhere to take out my aggravation. But I’m here in the delivery room with the most amazing woman in the world, and I need to man up. I need to be there for her.
I swallow back the wave of nausea that hits my throat and sit up. “I’m good. What can I do for you?”
“Hold my hand. Now that this is happening, I’m nervous.”
Wheeling over to her on the stool, I extend my hand and clasp it around hers. “You’ve got this. And I’m here. Whatever you need, for as long as you need it, I’m here.”
“Once more, puuush,” Doctor Salinger says, her hands shoved under the blue modesty sheet laying over Trix’s lap. She’s been pushing for over an hour and I glance at Trix’s face, which is bathed in sweat as she pushes and squeezes my hand.
The guttural sound she makes with each push reminds me how helpless I am to help, other than to offer moral support and the bones in my hand, which, so far, she hasn’t broken. It’s up to her and the doctor to get this baby out. I hate feeling so useless.
“I can see the head. One more big push, Beatrix.”
“I can’t. I’m too tired. I can’t do it,” she whines. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard her capitulate, and I suddenly realize I’m useless if I don’t help her now.
Leaning in, I brush the hair back from Trix’s forehead and kiss her there. “You can do anything, Trix. We both know it. Let’s meet our baby. Can you push once more?”
Our faces are inches apart, and I stare into her eyes. She blinks back tears and sweat, but that bright blue sparkle starts to resurface. She nods.
“Once more.”
“That’s all I’m asking. Just one push. Last one.” I look over the blue sheet at the doctor, willing her to make it true. I don’t want to break my word, so she needs to catch this baby when Trix pushes.
“Okay, once more,” she coaxes, while I let Trix crush my hand once more. I’m going to need to spend a week in physical therapy before putting on hockey gloves again, but it’ll be worth it. One thousand percent.
With a guttural grunt, Trix gives it one more push, and the baby slides out. Looking over the sheet, I see our baby for the first time as the doctor holds her up. “It’s a girl.”
The nurse helps me cut the umbilical cord and then cleans our daughter up a little bit before bringing her to Trix. Staring down at the two most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen, I feel overwhelmed by my fucking good fortune. “She’s beautiful.” I choke the words out before a lump in my throat prevents me from saying anything else. Trix is staring at our daughter with such wonderment, I’m not sure she’ll ever look away. But then she does. Her eyes meet mine, and she reaches up and wipes away a tear I didn’t feel on my cheek.
“She’s perfect,” Trix says.
I simply nod, leaning over to kiss Trix on the lips and smooth the hair off her forehead. Then I kiss our beautiful daughter on the cheek. “She is. And I’m the luckiest guy alive because I get to love you both.” We both know without discussing it that she already has a name—Daisy. And I love her more than I ever thought possible.
Trix pulls me close, and I hope she never lets go. “Love you too.”