39. Lainey
Lainey
“Don’t leave me, please!” Sutton grabs my hand with so much strength I will probably have bruising.
“I’m not going to leave the hospital, Sutton. Remington and I are going to be here the whole time in the waiting room, okay?” I rub the back of her hand hoping she will ease up a bit.
“NO!” She tugs on me, pulling me down closer to her seated position in the wheelchair we got her into when we made it to the county hospital. “I really want you to be in the room with me, Lainey. Please. I want you and Mom there. I need you with me.”
“Of course I will stay with you, if you’re sure that’s what you want. It’s kind of a big deal.” My anxiety wraps around my chest in a way it hasn’t in a while, that voice whispering doubts.
Why would she want me in such a sacred space with her and Renee?
“Lainey, you are my person. Practically my sister. I can’t do this without you.” Her eyes are mixed with so many emotions. I could never deny her request, and knowing that she sees me as an essential part of her life, her family, means everything to me.
Kissing the back of her hand, I say, “Okay, let’s do this. I will be right back. I’m just going to update Remington.” Bobbing her head, she finally relinquishes my hand and I shake it out as I go to the man I love. He is pacing nervously but stops when I walk up to him.
“Hi.” He blows out a breath.
“Soooo . . . Sutton wants me in the delivery room with her,” I tell him, biting my lip.
“I’m not surprised. She will have the best birth team in there with you and my mom,” he says, running a strong, relaxed hand down my face and along my jawline.
“Remington, I don’t know how to do this,” I panic-whisper.
“It’s not about knowing how to do it, baby.
All you need to do is be the loving, amazing, supportive woman you always are.
My sister loves you and she needs you because of who you are to her, not because she thinks you are going to catch the baby.
” Pulling me into a hug, he adds, “You are going to crush this.”
I can’t help but smile up at him after his confident pep talk. “Thank you. I am sorry I won’t be with you, but I will update you as soon as I can.” Kissing him one last time, I rush off to join Renee and Sutton as the staff get her checked in.
“It’s after midnight. I’m so freaking tired. I feel like I need to push, please,” Sutton begs the doctor that is checking her cervix again.
“Good news, Sutton. You are fully dilated. Let’s get ready to welcome your daughter to the world, alright?” Dr. Barrett says cheerfully behind her mask.
Renee pats Sutton’s forehead with a cool cloth on one side of the bed and I stand on the other—sacrificing my hand again.
I don’t think it will ever be the same shape after today.
Refusing any medication, Sutton has been at this for hours and is beyond exhausted.
I hope for her sake it doesn’t take long to push out the baby.
As the team gets into place, Sutton suddenly goes still. Renee and I look at each other. All the monitors are beeping at the same rate, but something happened.
Sutton’s chin quivers, tears start to run rivers down her cheeks, and a guttural sob shakes her, choking her as she pulls in a breath. “He should be here. He-he-he was supposed to be here. We were supposed to be doing this together.”
The whole room stills as her words destroy us. I look to the ceiling, trying to slow my own tears and be strong for Sutton. When I look around the room even the nurses are wiping away tears. Dr. Barrett is set up at the bottom of the bed, but time seems to have frozen.
Renee shifts, looking at her daughter. Taking her hand, she grabs on to Sutton’s and she places it over Sutton’s heart.
“Sweetheart, he is here. Right here. Always. And in a few moments, when your daughter takes her first breath, when they lay her on your chest, she will hear your heartbeat. It is yours, but it also holds Derek and all the love you have for him, too. And that beautiful baby girl, she is a part of him, too, Sutton. She is part of both of you. A living, breathing representation of the profound love you have for each other. There is nothing more beautiful than that.” Hugging Sutton as she sobs, Renee looks at me and sweeps away her own tears, too.
“It’s time, Sutton,” Dr. Barrett says gently. “You can do this.”
Sutton takes a deep breath, resolve strong on her face, and she bears down. Pushing, breathing, and letting her tears of grief, sadness, and the extreme emotion of this moment flow.
Sutton is a pillar of strength.
An hour later she is still pushing, and we are all getting a bit anxious.
“She is right here, Sutton, right here,” Renee says as cheerfully as possible.
“If she is right here, then why the hell isn’t she coming out!” Sutton snaps.
“Sutton, focus.” Dr. Barrett pulls her attention downward. “Give me one more good one, come on, girl, you got this.” I can see the smile in her eyes even though she is wearing a mask.
“You can do it, Sutton. I can see her, push.” I have no idea if what I am saying is helping, but Sutton squeezes the shit out of my hand and pushes.
We all let out a collective cry of joy and relief as her baby girl finally slips into this side of the world, her small, piercing cry the best sound I have ever heard.
They place Sutton’s daughter skin-to-skin on her chest, right over her heart. She runs her hand up and down her tiny back and whispers, “Happy birthday, Kinsley. Daddy and I love you so much.”