Chapter 61
THE NEXT CHAPTER
LYDIA
I’m so tired. My body aches everywhere, and I’m ready to give up.
I’ve been holding out on getting the epidural, but it’s past midnight now—nearly six hours after we got here—and I’m running out of steam.
I need sleep, and my body needs rest. I wanted to hold off as long as I could, but I haven’t progressed since I arrived, and I’m ready to have this baby.
“I’m waving the white flag.” I’m lying on my left side, with a peanut ball between my legs.
Fletcher’s sitting on a chair beside the bed, holding my hands in his and helping me through each and every contraction. “Time for an epidural?”
He’s exhausted too, I’m sure, his gaze hooded. He’s been my steady ground all evening into the night, and he was coming off a hard playoff game.
“Yeah.” Another contraction tightens across my belly, and a low groan leaves my lips, my body curling in as I breathe through the pain.
I can barely hear Fletcher talking to the nurses, but I’m so grateful he’s here.
Sleep is much easier once I get the epidural, and I wake up around six in the morning with an insane pressure in my pelvis. Fletcher is snoozing on the couch he pulled up beside my hospital bed, our hands entwined even through sleep.
I unlink our hands and press the button on the rail of the bed to call the nurse. When I tell them I’m feeling some pressure, they tell me they’ll be right in. I jostle Fletcher, and he groans.
“What? Are you okay?” He bolts up, scanning me up and down. “What’s going on?”
“I’m just feeling a lot of pressure. They’re going to check it out.”
He nods, standing up and pushing the makeshift couch bed back to the corner.
They come in a moment later and help me get situated on my back before performing the check. When the doctor nods, a knowing feeling settles in my gut.
“It’s time,” she says. “You’re ten centimeters, and the baby is right there and ready.”
“Holy crap.” I glance up at Fletcher.
Everything happens fast. They get the room ready, helping me so I’m comfortable in the bed and making sure the baby warmer is on and good to go.
By the time they’re ready for me to start pushing, the pressure is even stronger. My contractions are coming right on top of the other, it seems, and while I can’t feel the pain as much, the tightness is still there.
They give me a few directions, and then my legs are pushed up, baring my lower half to the entire room. I don’t even have it in me to care. All sense of modesty is gone. I want to get my baby out, and if this is what it takes, so be it.
Fletcher takes my hand, pressing a kiss to the back of my palm. “You’ve got this, beautiful.”
I tilt my chin, searching for a kiss. When he obliges, leaning down and cupping my cheek, it all locks into place.
My heart belongs to him and our little girl.
I never thought this was how we would end up, but I’m so glad we did.
When he pulls away, he keeps one of my hands in his, while his other arm wraps behind my shoulders, helping to hold me up.
“Ready, Lydia?” the doctor asks, and I nod. “Great. Now, when your contraction starts, push.”
It comes almost instantly, and I bear down, forcing all my energy into getting my baby out.
Time moves slowly as I continue to push, my body using every last molecule of strength through each and every push. I’ve been at this for over an hour now, and she’s still not coming.
“Lydia, she’s having some decels,” Dr. Jones says.
No, no, no.
“We can give it a few more pushes, but she needs to come out as soon as possible, or we’re going to have to do a C-section.”
My baby has to be okay. I have to get her out, but I’m so tired. My muscles are mush, and my brain is running on fumes. Oh, god, I don’t think I can do this.
“You can do this.”
With a determined nod, I take a deep breath as I wait for the next contraction to start. I don’t know where, but I find more strength.
“Good, good!” Dr. Jones says, and I hope that means I’m making some sort of progress.
A burning sensation hits, and I cry out.
“Don’t stop,” the doctor says.
I press on, screaming through the pain.
Fletcher pushes my hair back, his silent and steady presence helping the most. “Good job, baby. You’re so amazing. We’re going to meet our little girl soon.”
His whispered words give me strength.
When the count ends, the pain stays this time, and I can tell she’s moved farther down.
“Good job,” Dr. Jones says. “If you keep up with that, you’re going to have your baby in the next push.”
I nod, flopping my head back. When the next contraction hits, I do the same as before, finding that last little reserve of energy I have.
“It’s a girl,” Dr. Jones shouts, placing my daughter on my chest as the nurses begin cleaning her off with blankets.
My beautiful girl screams, her lungs working as she announces her arrival.
I brush my fingers over her face, tracing over the slope of her nose and the roundness in her cheeks.
Right now, her eyes are blue like mine, but who knows if that will change.
Her hair is dark, and the more the nurses clear all the goop off of her head, the more curls I see.
Fletcher leans in, tilting my head to kiss me as we both sob.
“She’s here,” I cry, my heart growing three sizes within only seconds. “Oh, my god. Fletcher.”
“She’s perfect.” He kisses me and cradles her head in his giant palm. “You’re incredible.”
“Dad, do you want to cut the cord?” Dr. Jones asks, holding a pair of medical scissors.
Fletcher looks down at me, as if searching for permission. I nod. There’s no question. His tears never cease as he cuts the cord, his gaze once again locking on me as soon as he’s done.
Once I’m cleaned up, the nurses bring Baby Girl over to the warmer to wipe her off and wrap her in a blanket. I send Fletcher over to get some photos of her while I take a minute to breathe. The nurses help me get adjusted in the bed, and when they bring my little girl back, the tears begin again.
She’s absolutely perfect, and everything I could have ever wanted. I made her. Every finger and toe, every eyelash and hair on her head came from me, and nothing will ever change that.
“Hi, baby,” I whisper, unable to stop myself from tracing her face again.
Fletcher returns, taking his phone out. He snaps a few photos before flipping the camera and leaning in. He presses a kiss to my lips right as he takes a photo. It’s the perfect moment, just the three of us as we begin the next chapter.