Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
Welcome to parenthood. I hope you like destruction and chicken nuggets.
—Denver to Nettie
Nettie
Labor day was here.
And I was struggling hard.
I was in my second hour of pushing, and I was exhausted.
Every time I pushed, the baby would come down, but go right back up.
I was, literally, ready to quit.
A C-section was sounding better and better.
“All right, push!” the doctor urged.
I did.
“You pooped.”
I turned to Eddy, the woman that I had not wanted in my delivery room but somehow was, and bellowed, “I’m pushing a goddamn baby out of my vagina, Eddy. Your vagina is really close to your asshole. Women shit in childbirth!”
There was silence and then Eddy looked at me apologetically, “I’m sorry. It just came out.”
My sister, the asshole.
“You better be good, or you’ll be leaving,” Boone growled.
My heart skipped a beat.
Eddy was Eddy. I loved her with all my heart, but sometimes words came out of her mouth before she could think better of them.
“It’s okay, Boone,” I replied, panting and exhausted.
“No, it’s not.” Boone leveled my sister with a glare. “I love you, Eddy. But say one more word, and you’re out of here.”
She held up her hands. “I’ll be good.”
She was such a liar.
She was never good.
Nor did I expect her to be.
But I was tired, and my man was picking up on that.
Plus, he was worried.
We all were.
That was why Eddy was adding commentary when she should be keeping her mouth shut. She jabbered when she was nervous.
“One more push coming up!” The nurse lifted my leg and practically shoved it to my throat.
“I can’t do it again, Boone.” I wept.
Boone’s big hands cupped my face, holding me really still, as he said, “She’s okay. She’s okay. Just push, baby. Push.”
I pushed.
And pushed. And pushed.
“Shoulder,” my doctor said almost too quietly for me to hear.
Then all of a sudden the room went absolutely wild around me. Two nurses jumped onto the bed, dislodging my sister from one side and Boone from the other.
An almighty pressure came from below, and I cried out in pain despite having an epidural—though it was a partially failed one which had been half my problem today.
Then I was staring at a baby covered in icky stuff on my chest and Boone’s big hand came to rest on her back to hold her in place.
“You did it, baby.” Boone’s words were deep and soothing.
I felt anything but soothed.
My vagina was on fire.
My eyes were leaking uncontrollably.
And my baby was wailing with her little shoulder looking a little weird.
I was dissociating, and I didn’t know what was going on.
“…fourth-degree tear.”
I blinked some more.
My mind swirled around me.
The baby continued to scream.
I was lost somewhere in my head.
There but not there.
I didn’t know how long that happened, but eventually the baby was lifted off of my chest, and I lay there staring at the ceiling for long moments.
That was what I was doing when I finally came back to myself.
Boone’s hand was on my face, and his forehead was against mine. He was whispering words to me.
A song.
The song that I’d always considered ours.
“…fishin’ in the dark…” he crooned.
I blinked.
“What happened?”
He pulled back and stared at me for long moments before he said, “You don’t remember?”
No.
He blew out a shaky breath. “Margery’s a big girl. Ten pounds on the dot.”
I blinked and smiled.
“Prick coming up right here.”
I flinched.
“She got stuck. Something called shoulder dystocia,” he said. “She came out, but the lady had to shove her entire arm up your vagina to get her out since she wasn’t breathing when she got stuck. You’re torn pretty bad.”
I winced. “Torn how?”
“Grade four,” the doctor said upon hearing what I’d asked. “From the clitoris to your anus. Though, it might be considered a really bad three. I don’t foresee you having any issues using the bathroom or anything. Thankfully.”
Shit.
I hadn’t even realized that was a possibility!
“Dad?”
Boone looked over at the nurse holding my baby.
“We’re going to take her to the nursery to check out her shoulder to make sure there are no issues. But we thought you might want to get a little cuddle in first.”
Boone left me so fast my head spun.
I snickered.
He reached for his girl and looked deep into her eyes. “Hello, Margery Mae.”
After his cuddle, he brought her to me so I could see her with clear eyes.
“She okay?” I asked as I pressed my cheek against hers.
“She’s perfect,” he said quietly.
“Good.”
“Time to go. Dad, are you coming with us?”
He looked at me.
“Go,” I urged. “I don’t want her switched at birth.”
He winked and stepped out of the room with our girl.
Eddy came to stand next to me and whispered, “I wish I hadn’t just witnessed that.”
“Why?” I laughed.
“Because I just found out that I’m pregnant.”
I smiled big. “Oh, Eddy. It was the best thing ever.”
She looked down at what was going on between my legs.
“Well, you did shit yourself.”
I gritted my teeth. “I’m going to fucking murder you, Eddy.”
Eddy grinned wickedly at me.
“Dear.” The nurse looked at my sister. “She has a fourth-degree tear. She just pushed a baby out of her that was a full ten pounds. She did this all naturally with an epidural that was spotty at best. She doesn’t need to be reminded of this every three seconds.
Now, either you sit there and don’t add commentary that we didn’t ask for, or you leave. Those are your two choices.”
Eddy looked contrite. “Sorry.”
Hours later, I finally got to head to the nursery where my husband had been keeping vigil at our daughter’s side.
“Which one’s yours?” a woman asked from my side.
I hadn’t seen her before she’d spoken, and she startled me slightly, making me jump. “Sorry.”
“That one.” I pointed at my girl who was having her shoulder examined by a doctor. “She had what they call shoulder dystocia.”
She patted me on the shoulder.
“It’s scary, I know.”
I looked to the woman with beautiful, long gray hair and said, “You know?”
She nodded. “My son, Luca, was born with shoulder dystocia, too. But look at him now.”
I did, glancing down the hall at a tall man with black hair and bulky shoulders. He had his hands on the glass as he smiled down at a tiny little baby boy who was getting put into a fresh diaper.
“He had it?”
She nodded. “Scared the hell out of both me and his father. I thought that I was going to die. That he was going to die. But he turned out okay, and yours will, too. The broken collarbone is scary now, but I promise you, she won’t remember a thing.
Neither will she have any developmental issues with her shoulder. ”
Relief tore through me at the thought.
“Thank you.” I smiled.
She patted me on the shoulder. “What’s that name say on her chest?”
I smiled again. “Margery Mae.”
“A strong name for a strong girl.” She smiled. “Where’d you get the name from?”
“My daughter’s great-grandmother on her daddy’s side,” I explained. “Her middle name is Mae. Her grandfather’s middle name is Eam. I thought it would be a cool play on that name if we went with Eam spelled backward.”
Because if it wasn’t for Sawyer, none of this would be possible.
He’d saved me when I was sixteen, and he didn’t have to.
It was only fitting that we name our girl after his mother and him.
“Oh, honey. That sounds perfect.”
And it was. It really was.