Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Jaq
“Babe…babe,” Graham grimaced, trying to keep his composure. “I'm losing circulation, Jaq, you’re really hurting my hand—”
“Well, this baby is hurting my fucking vagina, and you don't see me complaining!” I snapped back, finally letting go. Then I had to remember, that while my own mother didn't care, Marāma wasn't huge on swearing.
“I'm really sorry, Marāma, but this just effing hurts! Graham, how the hell did I convince you to let me do this?” I screamed.
“You're doing fine, my love,” Marāma coached, rubbing my shoulders. “Your body is in crisis, but it's learning on its own what to do.
“If it makes you feel any better, baby, you're crowning. If anything, that means the worst is over,” Graham splashed around, adjusting himself until my back was against his chest. I thought experiencing a water birth would be way more soothing and personal than being in a hospital, but the hospital did have a lot of benefits.
“Says the man who doesn't feel a ring of fire between his legs.
Oh my god, why did I turn down a hospital birth?
What I wouldn't give for some drugs! Molly, percosets.” I was well aware that all the pain that I was in was of my choice, and I'm sure in time it’d feel like a distant memory, but in the moment, giving birth at home was…
an experience. I could see why my mom was a one and done.
It was a miracle what the body was capable of, but damn.
Did childbirth have to be this painful? Couldn't have science, for all carrying to term put you through, offer a nice neural blocker during the duration, or something?
People really did this two, three, sometimes four, or more times?
“You're doing so good, baby, you're almost there,” Graham soothed his palms along my shoulders, but no amount of pushing made me relax.
“Jacqueline, maybe you should try standing up again?” My mom suggested. “Or getting on all fours helps. It puts less pressure on your back, and the baby will rotate easier through the birth canal—”
“Getting on all fours is what got me here in the first place!” I joked.
“The worst part is the shoulders,” I heard someone say, but for the life of me, I couldn't tell who it was over all my screaming.
“I know it hurts, Jacqueline, but you just need to push a little more.” That I could tell was still Graham. He was the only male voice still in the room.
“It feels like I've been pushing for hours,” I hopelessly yelled to no one in particular.
“You don't have to push so hard. Once you get past the shoulders, the baby will naturally feel its way out,” as I could finally make out that it was my doula.
I know they were all supporting me and all, but being coached to do something that was literally draining me was like the equivalent of getting jumped into a gang.
I know it was the pain talking, but I just really wanted to slug everyone in the room.
A scream of relief released as I felt and guided the shape out, the searing shock of it all leaving me as limp as spaghetti.
My doula helped guide the baby to my chest to create that first bond, but insisted I still had a ways to go.
“You're not out of the park yet. There's still the afterbirth.”
“Now I gotta go through an afterbirth, too?” I whined.
“Baby, it's just a placenta. Much easier than the first part,” Graham comforted.
“Easy for you to say. You got to participate in just the fun part, and now I'm paying the iron price—”
“Stop trying to make me laugh,” Graham tried really hard to guard off a smile. “This is the worst time to be funny,” he challenged.
"I can't help it! I'm Black, I joke during my pain,” I squealed, insisting Graham take hold of the baby as I needed more concentration to push the rest out.
“That's a lot of blood,” Graham noted, trying to concentrate on the baby, but distracted by the color of the water. “Is there supposed to be that much blood?”
Crying into myself, I held on to the sides of the pool, giving as much effort as I could, as someone with no energy possibly could. Things got really dizzy, and if I hadn't had my mom, mother-in-law, and doula, I'm sure I would have slipped underwater.
***
Beeping was the first thing my subconscious made out, as a combination of vertigo and hunger overwhelmed me. It took a few seconds of blinking to finally see more clearly. “Take your time, babe,” a voice echoed, almost like it was loud and faint at the same time.
When my vision settled in, I made out that I was hooked up to an IV. “Oh my god, am I in a hospital?”
“Relax, Jaq, don't push yourself. And yes, you're in a hospital. I got a little worried when you passed out, so I rode with you to the emergency room.”
“Where's our baby? Are they okay?”
“Jaq, they’re fine…she's fine. My intuition was right. It was a girl.” I had to refrain myself from crying. How long had I been out? Was I missing essential bonding time?
“I didn't even get to hold her.”
“You did the moment you gave birth. You don't remember?”
“Graham, I was pushing a human being out my body. The only thing I remember was the pain.”
Graham reached out and squeezed my hand, making sure I felt some sort of pressure that comforted.
“And you were like…so amazing. I know it doesn't feel like it, but you're like a flipping superhero right now.
Of all the things I've seen you do—and you've done so many amazing things—this was by far anything beyond what I could have imagined. I've experienced childbirth as an older brother, but never as a partner. It was like, I was happy and scared. Then nervous and excited. But there was just a lot of blood, and I was worried that you were hemorrhaging or anything that could lead to infection. When my mum had Payton, she developed postpartum endometriosis because she was too stubborn and nearly didn’t treat it time. When I knew our baby was okay, I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he explained.
“You just don't want to raise a kid by yourself,” I whined.
“I mean, can’t it be both? I'd never really be by myself, because our moms are both here. But I do want us doing this together, even though I get a lot of it will be on me, since you need to heal. Your body has been through a lot, and I just want to make sure I take care of you, considering you did care for our baby for nine months and two weeks.”
Unsure of whether my emotions postpartum were just everywhere, or that I was upset that I'd just given birth, but didn’t even remember the experience to cherish it, I burst into tears, collapsing onto the bed giving into exhaustion.
“I don't even remember what she looks like. Did her color at least come in?”
“We may have completely different ways of determining that, but I do have pictures.” Graham took out his phone, scrolling through the dozen pics of her snug in a tightly wrapped blanket.
“Right now it's just me giving her skin the skin. Our moms wanted to, but I wanted us to be the first ones to do that. So, at the moment our doula is kind of handing out my wishes, easier to have her fight them than me. Unrealistically, I was hoping you’d be keen enough to come home tonight. I know you had concerns about her latching, and the window of opportunity is still early enough, but I also don’t want to rush you.
You feeling strong enough is my only concern. ”
Even though I’d heard all that, that wasn’t my biggest concern. “Text my mom and ask her to check behind her ear,” I suggested, as he asked if he even wanted to know, or whether he should leave this as something that he would never understand.
“We made a very cute baby, though, right?” he beamed.
“She is very cute,” I admitted, still drained. Graham rested his chin in his hand, using his other one to gently squeeze mine.
“What? Why the hell are you smiling so hard?”
“I am?” he questioned, unaware that he'd been doing it.
“Sorry, you just looked so beautiful. Like an after-baby glow or something.”
“No Graham, that's called sweat and stress. And don't be looking at me all cute. Looking at me all cute is what got me here in the first place. This pussy is on a dick cleanse,” I declared.
“I respect it. I'm sure Melody will keep our hands plenty full,” as he acknowledged her by name this time, which arguably only made me cry more. “I just can't wait for you to come home. I miss you, but I can tell she misses you, too.”
***
The only thing I hadn't regretted about a natural birth was that after a few hours I could get up on my own. Granted, I wasn't out-walking an air bender, but knowing I could get up and use the bathroom on my own didn't suck.
Graham had been pretty strict about me getting rest after giving birth, so the first five days, according to him, I wasn't allowed to leave the bed for more than a few minutes, and normally it was only to stretch my legs.
He was lucky I didn't want to keep getting up and doing things myself, because how you gonna tell me what to do? I'm grown.
“Here's Mommy, isn't she so pretty? And you're so hungry, aren't you?” Graham cooed, baby-talking to our daughter until he joined me on the bed.
“I'm getting really sick and tired of you getting free meals and leaving no tip,” I teased.
“I'm sorry, baby. I try to only bother you when she has her hungry cry,” he said, handing her to me.
“Look at you, deciphering between all the cries that she has,” as I brought down the drop-down cup, preparing for the discomfort of the initial pressure from the latch.
“I've done this before, Jaq. I know my stuff,” he flirted, wearing a strong grin, crawling over to the head of the bed to get comfortable.
“Gosh, what the hell are you smiling for?” I noticed, as Graham confusingly shrugged.
“Jaq, you're lucky you're postpartum and insanely irritable because I would totally be mean mugging and starting an argument right now.”
“You're the one coming in here cheesing and being annoying,” I countered.
“Babe, this is like, my favorite time of the day. It’s like the parts of the day we spend time like a family, seeing how you’re not in the condition to go out right now.”
“You have a point. Guess this is the closest any of us are going out to eat in a while,” I acknowledged. “But you could have at least brought me some chips,” I mumbled.
“I could get you some chips. You want a soda, too?” he smiled.
“Sparkling water would be better,” as Graham kissed Melody on the top of her little bald head, then kissed me on the forehead, and left the room to get my snacks.
When he returned, he opened both for me, holding the sparkling water above my mouth to reach the straw. “Love you, baby.” Graham grinned, as I narrowed my eyes instead of rolling them, and he silenced my suspicion with a kiss.
“You're lucky I could barely make it to the car, otherwise your girl might take a drive for some cigarettes, only to never be seen or heard from again.” Graham just burst out laughing, being a good sport.
“I know your postpartum, but I’m happy that you retained your sense of humor. It's one of the things I love most about you…or maybe it's just because I love you.”
“Well…you did put a baby in me, so I'm stuck with you,” I joked. “But I couldn't think of a better person to be stuck with.”