19. Mahasin
Mahasin
My throat was dry and in need of some of those delicious hospital ice nuggets.
I don’t know how that standard-ass ice machine does it, but hospital ice just hits different.
The texture, the taste—crazy part is it’s probably some unfiltered-ass water coming from a machine that ain’t been updated since the hospital opened.
Amber, of course, was nowhere to be found.
She was probably out harassing everyone, and since I had the epidural, walking to get my own ice wasn’t a factor.
I hit the button on the remote attached to the bed to call for the nurse.
Before I could put the remote down, my door pushed open as if they were anticipating my call. Talk about good service.
However, the person who came through the door shocked me and caused me to tense in every area of my body that medication should have numbed.
“Gage?” I whispered, my voice shaking.
He came straight to me, eyes scanning my face, my hands, the monitors.
“You made it,” I said.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he responded, still looking over the mass of wires, his eyes expanding, laced with worry and pity as he eyed the catheter in my lower back.
I took his hand. “It’s just a thin, flexible tube that will transfer pain medication during labor. It can remain after birth depending on pain levels, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
His eyes relaxed, but not enough for my liking.
“Hey,” I whispered, “I’m okay. There’s no needle—you missed the fun part.” I smiled.
When he returned the gesture, I felt a sense of relief.
“I should have never gone on that fucking trip,” he said apologetically, as he pulled the chair next to my bed closer and took a seat. “I’m sorry, Mahasin.”
“There’s no need to apologize, Gage. This could have happened when you were in town, and you could have still missed all the extras because you got caught in traffic or something.”
I wanted to tell him how scared I was, the thoughts that ran through my mind about his future relationship with our daughter, and how relieved I was now—but all that came out was, “Tell Paris I’m sorry for interrupting your trip.”
He leaned in close and placed the softest kiss on my cheek. “Don’t worry about that. Just focus on bringing our baby girl into the world.”
I felt warm inside, like a high schooler with a crush, hearing him say our baby girl. The moment must have been sensualizing for him too because he cleared his throat, straightened, and asked, “Can I get you anything?”
“A tummy tuck,” I said, grinning.
He laughed quietly. “Your body was perfect before, it’s perfect now, and it’ll be perfect after.”
“I don’t know about that,” I murmured. “But maybe some ice chips. I called for the nurse to get me some, but no one arrived yet.”
“Knowing you, Dollface, it’s only been about thirty-five seconds since you hit that button, and to you that means ‘no one came,’” he joked.
“Shut up,” I laughed, playfully slapping his arm.
He found the small bucket on the rolling food tray across the room and fed me spoonfuls, as if it were the most sacred task in the world. Each cold piece melted against my tongue, soothing and sweet.
“Yeah, they probably turned away once they saw me coming into the room. And Amber was right behind me, so she’s not far. You want me to go get someone?” he asked, still catering to me.
“Nah, I only wanted ice. Let whoever Amber is harassing keep an eye on her for me,” I joked.
We both laughed until our eyes met one another’s—and it was like we both got lost. Whatever this zone was that hovered between time and space was euphoric, and I didn’t want to leave it.
We stayed like that—quiet, steady—until a strange pressure pushed low, deep, right into my center.
I winced.
Gage froze, spoon in hand.
“I thought you said there was no pain,” he said, voice tight.
“It’s not pain,” I breathed. “It feels like… like— Auuuhhh!” I moaned. “Like she’s falling out!”
He blinked, startled by both my words and the sound leaving my throat. For him to be a genius, he was having a really hard time processing what I clearly described I was feeling. And the uncomfortableness was causing me to be easily irritated.
“Falling out? The fuck does that mean?” he asked, panicked.
“Go get a nurse. Or Amber. They’ll know.” I said, my tone was very short.
The moment he disappeared through the door, the pressure intensified—deep, heavy, undeniable. As if something was descending and my body was opening, whether I cooperated or not. I’d delivered enough babies to know exactly what was happening, and my instinct was rising above explanation.
My body was ready.
I adjusted the bed and braced myself into the birthing position. I closed my eyes and pictured her: tiny fingers curled around mine, one day little hands pressing piano keys; her laugh twirling through the house, skirt swinging from her private school uniform.
I’m planning your whole life already , I thought. And you don’t even have a name.
The door burst open. Amber came in first, then Krista and Tiana, then Elle. Gage floated in milliseconds later, wiping his hand down his face, his skin pale beneath the brown.
“Auuuhhh—what the actual fuck!” I yelled, body tightening as I arched against the bed.
“That’s the sound I want to hear, Dr. St. James,” Elle’s voice was calm, steady, grounding.
Amber squeezed Gage’s shoulder. His ass was still clearly confused.
“It means you’re about to meet your daughter, Mr. Blaque.”
Elle washed her hands, snapped on gloves, and lifted the sheet to check me.
“You don’t even gotta feel around down there—that pussy wider than all outside,” Amber announced as she looked down at my vaginal area like she was the doctor.
Everyone laughed—because of course she would say that right now.
Elle looked up at me. “Time to push.”
I nodded, gripped the rails, and summoned every muscle I had to bring life into this world.
One push.
Then two.
Then three.
“Uggghhh! If I push any fucking harder, I’m going to shit on myself!” I complained.
“One more,” Elle said, voice firm but kind.
“You said one more five pushes ago,” I snapped, half-crying, half-laughing.
Gage caught my hand, his thumb tracing slow circles against my skin as he pressed the softest kiss to my forehead.
“You’re doing great, Dollface. You got this.”
His voice anchored me. He was my peace—my hero—and my fear quieted.
I pushed again.
Amber suddenly squealed, causing me to pause mid-push. She scared the hell out of me.
“She’s got a lot of hair!” she yelped.
Of course, Amber could pull laughter from chaos. This time, we guffawed out of sheer relief that nothing was wrong.
“Give me one big one , Mahasin, and I promise you’ll be all done,” Elle coached.
“Elle—no, I’m tired… I can’t,” I whined, breath ragged.
“Come on, mama,” Gage pleaded, gripping my hand tighter. His other hand slid behind my back, lifting me slightly, supporting me like he’d always been meant to. “Squeeze my hand as hard as you need to, but give it everything you've got. I’m right here.”
And I did. I squeezed so hard on his hand that my knuckles turned white. I pushed down long and strong—until I felt the weight leave my body.
I did it.
Then—
Silence.
It fell over the room like a curse. No cry. No sound. Just the shuffle of feet and the ripping of plastic packaging.
“She's not crying,” I said. “Why isn’t she crying?”
Elle and the nurses moved her to the warmer. Their movements were expert—efficient, focused—and I hated that I understood every step. I knew too much. I saw too much.
The hum of the machine charging filled my ears until it drowned out all other sounds.
“Come on, baby,” I whispered. “Please cry.”
Nothing.
Gage was asking me questions, yelling over to the team to tell him what was going on, but I had tunnel vision. My focus was on my little baby being worked on across the room. I watched—because that’s all I could do. Too shocked to talk, too numb to get up and assist, so I watched. Helplessly.
This was new territory. This was real fear. A scary movie, I could turn off. A nightmare, I’d wake up from. But my child, helpless in the corner—me not knowing if she was in pain or even alive—and there being nothing I could do about it...
That was my monster under the bed.
The compressions started, her tiny chest pressed rhythmically, purposefully—and my heart splintered.
A bell chimed—the machine was fully charged. The line between medical protocol and human grief blurred.
“Stop,” I said sharply.
Amber looked at me, eyes wide. “Mahasin, no—let them—”
“You’ll crush her chest,” I choked out, shaking my head. Tears streamed so fast I couldn’t breathe. “Elle… you know, after a certain time, it’s a lost cause.”
Elle looked up at me, her eyes glossy and full.
“Mahasin… please.”
I didn’t want hope only to have it ripped from me. I didn’t want to be lifted just to be dropped from a higher level.
If I were going to experience the ultimate pain, then let it be just once.
“You’re legally bound to do as I wish, Dr. Mathers .” My voice cracked, but it didn’t falter. “Call it.”
“Mahasin—” she tried to plead, but I cut her off.
“Call it now !” I screamed.
My breathing came harsh and uneven, my shoulders rising and falling like a bull ready to charge. I was hurting, furious, and for a terrifying second—I wanted to die right here, right now.
Gage’s voice came from somewhere behind me—rough, breaking. Only then did I realize this was his daughter, too.
“Nah—Mahasin, what are you saying?” His voice trembled, desperate.
I couldn’t look at him.
This was all my fault. From having a one-night stand, to not keeping track of my body and finding out about my pregnancy at four months. Two. Fucking. Trimesters. Without monitoring, without prenatal care. Two fucking trimesters.
I slept with this man, showed up at his job, and ruined his relationship. Was this my karma? Were my sins stored up for my baby girl?
Fuck… how could I have let this happen?
I failed my baby.
I stared at the ceiling, waiting for the words that would shatter me.
Elle turned to Tiana, who already had a pen and pad ready.
“Time of death, twelve—”
And then—
“Baby girl, wake up for Daddy. Please!”
His voice hit the air like thunder—deep, commanding and pleading all at once.
Every head turned.
For one suspended breath, nothing moved.
Then a sound split the room open—a single, fierce cry, small but strong, rising like the first note of a song you'd never forget.
I gasped. My whole body trembled. Tears burst out of me from a place I didn’t know still existed. My body went limp, and the sobs came heavy—relief and gratitude spilling into one another.
The women in the room froze, then laughed, then cried—sound and motion twisting together like pure, wild joy.
Elle lifted the baby from the warmer, wrapped her in a pink and brown Fendi blanket—courtesy of Krista and Tiana—and placed her on my bare chest.
She was perfect. Fat cheeks, a button nose, and a head full of jet-black curls.
“There’s Daddy’s girl,” Gage whispered, tears sliding slowly down his cheeks.
“He means the baby , not you, Mahasin,” Amber teased.
Of course, she found the strength to joke—she pulled a soft ripple of laughter from a room full of tear-stained faces.
I tapped my daughter’s nose with a shaky finger. “Hey, little one,” I whispered. “You scared the fuck out of me.”
“Welcome to motherhood,” Elle said gently, and God—her tone held the truth of it.
Amber, still crying and smiling, leaned in closer. “We have to name her Heaven,” she sniffed.
“Miracle,” Krista offered, eyes warm.
“Blessing,” Elle added softly.
I shook my head, smiling, tears still flowing. All I could do was repeatedly thank God. My gaze lifted to Gage’s, but all he saw in that moment was his daughter.
Every name in the room dissolved.
This baby was his gift. His answered prayer. His wish.
He named her before she existed.
“Her name,” I said quietly, “is Snoh.” The room fell still again, this time in peace, not fear. “She’s your Snoh in December,” I whispered, “the one you asked Santa for.” Gage leaned down, forehead against mine, both of us crying, laughing, breathing the same air like we’d never separate.
He kissed me—soft, grateful, trembling. “Thank you, God,” he whispered against my lips. I felt his tears on my face, our daughter’s heavenly baby scent between us, and love all over me. Here, in this room, in this moment, everything I’d ever wanted was mine.