Re: Yellow (M/L ADULT): Ch. 19 9/17/20
Posted: Thu Sep 17, 2020 6:57 am
Well, here it is! It's by far the longest chapter, but I promised we'd meet Gabriel so here we are!
I've worked very hard to achieve authenticity in this story - from researching dates and locations and area-specific things as well as bringing as much cannon into an A/U story as possible. This chapter is no exception. I have never had my own children, so I did quite a bit of research and "interviewed" a few friends who have, so I hope that I've done the process justice!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I’d made a mental note of the time of that first contraction and I only had one other while I was in the shower, lasting a bit less than thirty seconds.
I luxuriated in the hot water, taking the time to wash and condition my hair and shave as much of myself as my belly would allow. I ran my soapy hands lovingly over my bump, a mixture of emotions swirling through my head as I contemplated what the next day or so would bring. I was certainly ready to no longer be pregnant and desperately eager to meet my son, but there was a part of me that realized how much I was going to miss having him inside of my body and so close to my heart. I felt like I could protect him so completely, nestled beneath my ribcage. There, the world couldn’t touch him and I could keep him safe.
“There are so many people that are so eager to meet you, Bug,” I murmured, staring down at my swell. “But no one in this world wants to meet you more than me and your Daddy.”
I took the time to blow dry my hair, lotion my skin, and even put on a touch of makeup. It would be a long while before self-care would come first again.
Another contraction set in as I stepped out of the bathroom and I leaned against the door jamb and breathed slowly until it passed.
“15 minutes apart,” I said to Max who was perched on the edge of the bed, watching me intently. He’d procured a notebook while I was in the shower and I watched him jot down the time.
“How long are they lasting?” He asked.
“About 30 seconds,” I replied, rummaging through the dresser for an old pair of sweats and a t-shirt.
Once I was dressed, I sat down beside Max on the bed and took his hand in mine.
“How are you feeling?” He asked quietly.
“Honestly? Terrified. And desperately glad I don’t have to do this alone,” I said, resting my head on his shoulder.
He pressed his lips to my hair.
“But I’m so excited to meet him, Max,” I added, stroking my bump. “By this time next week, we’re going to be seasoned pros at this parenting thing!” I joked and he chuckled in response.
“Or at least not completely floundering!” He quipped and I nodded in agreement. “So what do you want to do now?”
“Well, we’re not supposed to even call the hospital until the contractions are 5 minutes apart and lasting more than 45 seconds, so we’ve got awhile yet to go. Why don’t we go watch a movie or something?” I suggested, trying to think of things that would keep my mind occupied.
“You’re the boss!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
We decided on Ferris Bueller’s Day Off - easily one of our favorite movies of all time - figuring it would be a good distraction. My contractions stayed consistently 15 minutes apart, but by the time the movie was over there was a definite change in intensity. What began in my back and moved into a dull ache low in my belly was now deep and persistent in my pelvis as well.
Sitting still was getting desperately uncomfortable, so I asked Max to take a walk with me around the block. We were a little more than a week from Halloween and a number of the houses on Murray Lane were decorated for the occasion.
“I can’t wait until next year when we can take Gabe trick-or-treating,” Max said as we passed by a house that was particularly festive.
“We should come up with a family costume!” I suggested excitedly. “We could do something Disney themed, like Aladdin, Jasmine, and Abu!”
“Or we could do something punny like ‘Ice, Ice, Baby’!” Max replied and my eyes lit up.
“Oh my god, that would be hysterical!” I laughed, imagining Max and I dressed up like convenient store bags of ice. “But only if we can dress Gabe up like Vanilla Ice himself!”
“Do you think I’d have it any other way?” Max said, waggling his eyebrows.
“Oh man, now I really can’t wait until next…” I was cut off mid sentence by a particularly strong contraction. I turned and braced myself against Max, doing my best to take slow, deep breaths but all I wanted to do was freeze against the pain.
“You’ve got this, Lillabet,” Max murmured into my ear, his hands on my hips as he slowly rocked us back and forth, his fingers massaging my iliac crest.
I sighed as the pain finally subsided, sinking into him for a moment, drained.
“Gone?” He asked, brushing my hair from my face.
I nodded. “Yeah. That was a bad one,” I replied, still catching my breath.
“You’re doing incredible, Liz,” he said quietly before kissing my lips.
“That was less than 15 minutes,” I said as we began to walk again.
Max glanced down at his watch. “Eleven. And it lasted for 40 seconds.”
“We’re getting somewhere!” I said, trying to look on the bright side. “But I think I’m ready to head home.”
“Of course,” Max agreed and we made our way back towards the house.
“Everyone’s here,” I commented as we approached the driveway. The Jeep was blocked in by Maria’s Jetta and Phillip’s new SUV was parked next to the Durango. Apparently he and Diane decided to head back early from Clovis.
“What do you want to tell them?” He asked, pausing on the sidewalk.
“I need this to be just you and me, Max,” I said. “I need this to just be about us. The three of us. Maybe that’s selfish, but it’s the only way I think I can handle this right now.”
“It’s not selfish, Liz. This is about you and what you need and no one else. Why don’t we go inside and you can head straight for our room and I’ll hang back and talk to everyone. They love you, they will understand. I promise,” Max said soothingly.
I nodded. “Okay. Thank you, Max.”
“Anything for you, Lillabet.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As luck would have it, the kitchen was mercifully empty when we walked in. I made my way towards our bedroom while Max went to find everyone.
I closed the door quietly behind myself and stared at the bed for a minute, contemplating whether or not I wanted to lie down. I was hoping to get at least a few hours of sleep later in the evening, so I decided that it was still too early. I knew some laboring women found relief in hot water, so even though I’d taken a shower several hours before, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to run a bath.
As I let the tub fill, I unpacked a few of the candles I’d brought back from my balcony and set them out around the bathroom. I leaned against the counter, swaying my hips as I waited for another contraction to pass, a low moan escaping my lips as it peaked.
“Liz?” Max called from the bedroom.
“In here,” I replied, letting out a long breath.
“You okay?” He asked, his hands immediately going to my lower back to massage my sacrum.
I moaned again, this time out of pleasure. “Better now. I thought I’d sit in the tub for a bit. Is everyone freaking out? Are they mad that I wanted to be left alone?”
“Mad? Absolutely not. Freaking out? Maybe a little,” Max teased and I smiled. “Everyone is going to stay here tonight and they’ll follow us to the hospital when you’re ready, but they totally understood you wanting it to be just us right now. I don’t know how much sleep anyone is going to get though, they’re all pretty excited!”
I nodded gratefully. I was incredibly appreciative of their support and it meant the world to me that they all wanted to stay nearby, but I was even more thankful that they understood how much I needed Max and only Max through this process.
“Can I do anything to help?”
I began to shake my head, but an idea came to me instead. “Actually, would you mind brining in the CD player? I think some music would be nice.”
“Absolutely. Anything in particular?”
“Sigur Rós,” I said definitively. I couldn’t think of anything that would be more soothing.
“Do you want help getting in the tub first?” Max offered.
“Probably!” I laughed sheepishly. As pregnant as I was, Grace was certainly not my middle name!
I stepped in and held onto his hands as I slowly lowered myself into the water, the heat immediately relaxing my muscles.
“Better?” Max asked as I settled in.
“You have no idea,” I sighed, leaning my head back against the wall.
He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Give me two minutes.”
He returned with his portable CD player, an armful of towels, my robe, and a large bottle of water.
I raised an amused eyebrow at him.
“You need to stay hydrated!” He said, handing me the water bottle. “And I didn’t want you to be cold when you got out,” he shrugged.
“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” I asked.
He grinned at me over his shoulder as he finished setting up the CD player and moments later Svefn-G-Englar came floating quietly out of the speakers. He stacked the towels and robe on the lid of the toilet and came to sit down next to me.
“Still eleven minutes apart?” He asked.
“Yeah, though the last one was longer. Maybe 50 seconds,” I said, trying to focus on releasing the tension from every cell in my body.
I imagined my body softening and opening, every muscle, tendon, and ligament relaxed and pliable. It was an exercise I’d learned in our birthing class and I was surprised by just how helpful I found it.
As I felt another contraction building, I reached out for Max’s hand and he slid his fingers between mine without saying a word. I focused on the sound of his breath, matching mine to his as it kept me from holding it. The contraction felt different in the water; no less intense, but definitely less painful.
I stayed submerged in the tub for several hours, Max periodically adding hot water as the temperature dropped. I needed a distraction between contractions, so I asked Max to talk to me. I didn’t particularly care if he started reading the ingredients off the back of a shampoo bottle, I just wanted something to occupy my mind.
“How about I tell something I’ve never told you before instead?” He offered when I said as much.
I turned to look at him, mildly surprised. Our lives were so intertwined that I had trouble fathoming that there were any secrets left between us. I nodded with eager curiosity.
“It was last year right around this time, I remember because the Crash Down was decorated for Halloween. You were working and I was hanging out with Alex in our regular booth suffering through a problem set for AP physics, both of us wishing you would go on break so you could help us.”
I laughed. “You know, for a computer genius and a guy who can do discrete math in his sleep, the two of you had a bear of a time with that class!”
“I can’t speak for Alex, but I like math for math’s sake. Applied math? Not so much!” Max replied, shaking his head. “But anyways, I was spending a whole lot more time watching you than I was paying attention to my homework. You were serving a particularly frazzled looking woman with a very fussy baby who looked to be 8 or 9 months old. You’d gone over to see if she needed anything and just as you approached, the baby reached out and knocked over her soda, absolutely soaking her. I was positive the poor woman was going to burst into tears, but you jumped right in, helping her mop up the mess and insisting that she go to the bathroom to clean up while you watched the baby.
“She must’ve asked you to hold him because you scooped him out of the high chair and propped him up on your hip, making funny faces and chatting away to him while you waited for his mother to return. And as his mother walked into the bathroom, your mother came out from the break room and stopped at our table to say hello. She noticed you with the baby and me watching you.
“And your mom said, ‘for someone who grew up as an only child, she sure does have a natural maternal instinct. I think if you two decide to have children someday, she is going to be the most incredible mother.’ She patted me on the shoulder and then continued about whatever it was she was going to do. And I remember thinking the exact same thing. You looked so comfortable and happy holding that baby and I couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to see you with our own child one day.
“I know your mom isn’t here today to tell you that you are going to do an amazing job and that you are going to be the most wonderful mother Gabriel could ever ask for, but she saw it in you. She always saw it in you. And so do I,” he murmured, his voice cracking with emotion.
“Oh, Max,” I whispered through quiet tears. I’d never even considered the possibility that my mother had contemplated my potential future as a parent. That she’d ever observed those qualities in me, that she saw me as someone capable of doing for my own child what she did for me was astounding.
Max gently ran his thumb under my eyes. “I didn’t tell you at the time because I thought it might embarrass you; you always hated it when your parents were sappy!” He teased and I laughed softly. “But I’m really glad that it happened so that I could tell you now.”
“Me too,” I agreed. I needed to hear that more than I even realized in that moment and it was something from which I drew strength many times in the years to come.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
By the time I wanted to get out of the tub, my contractions were hovering around eight minutes apart and still lasting 45 to 50 seconds.
I spent the next few hours doing my best to keep my mind occupied. I read between contractions and when I couldn’t focus on the text any longer, Max read to me. I tried all sorts of positions, trying to find anything that would bring a modicum of relief, but it was always fleeting. Max even managed to talk me into eating some soup and crackers. I wasn’t particularly hungry, but I felt significantly better after I ate something.
I knew that it was called labor for a reason, but I was still surprised by how exhausted I was. While I was hoping to be able to get some rest, I didn’t really think that it would be a possibility with my contractions coming with relative frequency. But by 10:00 pm, all I wanted to do was sleep.
“The next time we go to sleep in this bed, Gabriel will be in that bassinet,” I said gesturing towards the beautiful, deep blue Moses basket standing like a sentinel in the corner, waiting for its charge to arrive.
“It’s so crazy,” Max said, tucking a pillow under my hips as I situated another between my knees. “Comfortable?” He asked.
“As comfortable as I’m going to get, I think,” I sighed.
“Will you be okay for a few minutes if I just let everyone know how you’re doing and that we’re going to bed?”
“Absolutely,” I replied, yawning.
Max kissed my cheek. “Get some rest, Lillabet.”
I was drifting off before he even closed the door.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was shortly after 4 am when I woke up to pain infinitely more focused and persistent than anything I’d previously experience. I’d managed to rest for most of the night, but not truly sleep, though I must have passed out at some point. I was covered in a cold sweat and could see my belly shrinking and tightening with the contraction, my body trembling with the exertion.
I tried to breathe as quietly as possible, wanting to wait and see if this was an anomaly or worth waking Max over, but the second I shifted to sit up, he was awake.
“Liz?” He asked, concerned. He sat up beside me, rubbing my back in slow, soothing circles.
I moaned in response, the sound low and primal and entirely out of my control.
“You’re doing great, Lillabet,” Max murmured in my ear. “You are so incredibly strong. I love you so, so much.”
I slumped against him with a quiet sob as the contraction finally abated, not entirely willing to admit that this was the real deal. Max wrapped his arms around me and kissed my hair.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Max,” I whimpered, feeling suddenly and completely overwhelmed. I was 17 years old for christ’s sake! How was I supposed to not only give birth to an entirely new human being, but then be a parent - a good parent? What possessed me to think I could do this?
“Liz Parker, you are the strongest, most resilient person I’ve ever known. I cannot begin to fathom how difficult and scary this is for you, but I need you to hear me when I say that you are beyond capable. You’ve trusted your body to carry and nourish and nurture our son for the last nine months, you need to trust that it can do the work to bring him into the world. I do. I trust in it implicitly. And more than that, I believe in you. And I’m not going to let you do this alone; not labor, not birth, and not parenting. I’m with you every step of the way, Liz.” His words held such deep conviction that I couldn’t find room for argument. Intellectually, I knew that all of this was true, but I was admittedly having trouble connecting with my rational mind.
“I love you, Max,” I whispered into the hollow of his neck.
He held me through another freight train of a contraction just a few moments later. “That’s less than 5 minutes, Lillabet,” he said gently.
I nodded and sighed. “I think we should probably call the hospital.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Max offered to phone labor and delivery while I got myself together. There was a significant amount of pressure in my pelvis when I stood, almost as though I needed to go to the bathroom, so I figured I’d do so before we got in the car. I could hear Max relaying information to someone on the other end of the line, and he’d just begun to answer that my waters had yet to break when I felt a ‘pop’ and an unexpected rush of fluid along with another contraction.
“Uh, Max? Tell them that my water just broke,” I called shakily.
Max’s head appeared around the corner of the door. “It did?” His wide eyes met mine and we stared at each other for a moment. It was as though up until that point there was a possibility that this entire process could somehow just stop and Gabriel’s birth would no longer be eminent. But as soon as my membranes ruptured, I knew there was no going back.
“Actually, her waters just broke,” he said into the phone, about a thousand times more composed than I felt. “Okay, we should be there in 15 minutes,” he added after a beat and then hung up.
I cleaned myself up the best that I could and Max grabbed a few towels for the car.
“I need to let my parents know that we’re going,” he said, slinging my hospital bag over his shoulder.
I paused at the door and looked up at him. “We’re really doing this?”
“We really are,” he replied, kissing me gently. “Let’s go meet our son!”
Max stopped at Phillip and Diane’s door, knocking quietly.
“Mom? Dad?” He called, cracking it open a few inches. I could hear rustling and murmured voices and then the door flung open wide.
“Is it time?” Diane asked excitedly, tying her bathrobe. “Liz, sweetheart, how are you feeling?”
“Should we start getting dressed?” Phil asked. I could see him already rummaging through his wardrobe.
“We’re going to head in,” I said calmly. “I’m doing okay, but my contractions are less than 5 minutes apart and my water just broke, so we’re pretty sure this is it.”
Diane’s eyes lit up and she clapped her hands excitedly. “Okay! We’ll get dressed and meet you guys there!”
“Mom, don’t rush. It’s going to be awhile yet. We still have to get checked in, Liz needs to be triaged, assigned a room, and I’m sure there will be about a million pages of paperwork. Why don’t you guys try to get a little more sleep and then come in at a reasonable hour?” Max suggested.
“Son, we couldn’t go back to sleep if you paid us!” Phillip said, beaming. “You two go, we’ll let the other kids know and we’ll be right behind you.”
“Oh, Liz!” Diane said, enveloping me in a hug. “I am so excited for you and so, so proud. I cannot wait to meet him!”
“Me too,” I said, hugging her back. As soon as she released me, she wrapped her arms around Max and kissed his cheek. “And I’m so proud of you as well, Max.”
“Thanks, Mom,” he mumbled and I could see his cheeks reddening.
“Okay, honey, let them go before our grandson is born here in this house!” Phillip teased her. “We love you both, we’ll see you in a little while,” he added, resting his hands on his wife’s shoulders.
“We love you too, Dad,” Max replied and then turned to me. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
There was a kindly, older nurse and an attractive red-headed woman in a short white coat waiting for us when we arrived.
The nurse showed us into a small triage room equipped with a gurney and a fetal heart rate monitor. She handed me a hospital gown and some no-slip socks and asked me to get changed and let them know when I was ready.
I stripped out of my sweats and Max helped me to tie the Johnny before kneeling down to swap my Adidas slides for the hospital-issued footwear.
A soft knock sounded before the door opened to reveal the young woman followed by the nurse.
“Hi Elizabeth, I’m Seurena Becker,” she introduced herself with a bright smile. “I’m the medical student assigned to your case. Luckily, Dr. Greenberg is the OB on call, so she should be here shortly, but she’s asked me to examine you and get you settled into your room for her. And this is Nurse Susan, she’s going to be your nurse until change of shift at 7.”
“It’s nice to meet you both,” I said, grimacing as Max helped me up onto the gurney. “I go by Liz. And this is Max.”
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you guys. Sounds like we’re going to be having a baby today!” She said as she donned a pair of gloves. “Susan is going to hook you up to the fetal heart monitor as well as a second device that monitors your contractions so we can get an idea of how your little one is handling labor and how your contractions are progressing. And if it’s okay with you, I’m going to do a brief pelvic exam to check your dilation and your baby’s position.”
I nodded in agreement and Susan draped a sheet over my legs before lifting my gown to expose my belly.
“Just a bit of gel,” she said, squirting the warmed liquid on my bump. She placed a flat disc over the gel and moved the probe around for a few seconds before the sound of Gabriel’s heartbeat came through loud and clear. She then placed a second disc above it.
“I’m going to slide two bands underneath you so we can strap these into place,” she explained. Max gave me his hand and helped me to sit up a bit and she got the monitors situated quickly.
As I laid back down, another contraction began to build and I held onto Max hard, moaning.
“Look at me, Lillabet,” Max whispered, pressing his forehead to mine, his free hand cradling the back of my neck. I pried my eyes open, my vision swimming from the tears that threatened to spill over, but I locked onto his gaze. “Breathe, baby. Breathe. That’s it. You’ve got this, Liz. You’re doing an amazing job.”
I focused on the sound of his voice and my breath in my lungs until the pain finally subsided and I slumped back on the gurney once more. Max brushed an errant strand of hair away from my face and kissed my forehead.
“Well, you are certainly having some good contractions,” Seurena commented, watching the digital output to my right. “And it looks like you have a great birthing partner,” she added, smiling.
I squeezed Max’s hand. “I’m very, very lucky,” I agreed.
“Alright, while you’re between contractions, let me take a quick peek at you,” she said. She lifted my legs into stirrups and helped me to slide down to the edge of the bed. Her exam was brief but uncomfortable and I was glad that it was over quickly.
“Well, it looks like you’re at 7 centimeters and your baby is head down and fully engaged. Your membranes are completely ruptured and your contractions are productive, so I think we’ll be able to avoid having to use any Pitocin unless your labor stalls. I will have Susan place and IV; Dr. Greenberg does like to put her patients on supportive fluids during labor to help you stay hydrated and that way we have a line in case we need it. Is that okay with you?” She asked, depositing her used gloves in a biohazard bin.
“That’s fine, whatever you guys need to do,” I said. I’d never had an IV before, so I was nervous about the prospect, but I knew that it was for the best.
“Okay, great! And what about pain management? Did you and Dr. Greenberg discuss if you’d like to have an epidural?” She asked, making a few notes in my electronic chart.
“Yes, definitely yes,” I said quickly. If the past 14 or so hours were supposed to be easy compared to what was to come, I didn’t want any part of that unmedicated!
“Epidural it is, then! We’ll have anesthesia paged and they’ll come see you once we get you settled into a room. Now are you planning on having anyone besides Max in the room with you? Maybe your mom?” Seurena asked, glancing from the computer screen to me.
I felt a lump form in my throat and tried to swallow it down to answer. “My mom…” I began shakily, but Max stepped in.
“We just want it to be us. There are going to be a bunch of people in the waiting room, though.”
“That’s fine! Do you want any visitors after you have your epidural or do you want to wait until he’s born?”
I looked up at Max. I wasn’t sure what I wanted at that point because the only person other than him I truly wanted wasn’t going to be there.
Seurena noticed my hesitation and added, “you don’t have to make any decisions now, you just let us know what you’re comfortable with and that’s what we’ll do. We just like to know ahead of time in case eager family members try to crash the birthing suite!” She chuckled and I managed a weak smile.
“Hey, Lillabet,” Max murmured. I looked up at him and he gently ran the pad of his thumb under each of my eyes. I didn’t even realize I was crying. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I whispered in return.
“Alright, if you two can just hang tight about five minutes, we’ll be able to get you into a room and have you well on your way to meeting your son!” Seurena said.
“Thank you, we appreciate it,” Max replied.
She paused at the door as though she wanted to add something else, but she just smiled softly after a moment and pulled the curtain closed behind her.
“She didn’t know, Lillabet,” Max said gently, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.
I nodded against his chest. “I know she didn’t; I think I’m just feeling super emotional.”
“With good reason!” He added sincerely.
He held me through another contraction and just as it was ebbing, an orderly came in to move us down the hall to our room.
I noticed a gradual shift in my focus during that time; while there was a flurry of activity that included a seemingly endless parade of medical and administrative staff trying to complete my admission, I felt like I was watching them on television and not in real time. I have a vague recollection of answering a barrage of questions, of being transferred into a bed vastly more comfortable than the gurney from triage, of a collection of contractions - each gradually more intense than the one before.
Even though I was experiencing progressively more pain, my energy turned inward; my body instinctively recognizing that I was going to need every last reserve I had for the hours to come. I whimpered and I moaned, but there was no exertion or screaming. Had I the ability to be objective during that time, I would’ve been in absolute awe of how my body knew exactly what it needed. I did not make any conscious decisions during that time; that would’ve been nearly impossible. Instead, I surrendered to a biological imperative that was infinitely stronger than my own will. I trusted that my body - no matter how young or immature - knew exactly what to do and I did my very best to listen.
“Will you hold me?” I asked Max once we were alone again. We were still waiting on Dr. Greenberg and the anesthesiologist and Susan had stepped out to check on another patient.
“Always,” he replied.
I did my best to shift over in the small bed to make room for him and he situated himself next to me, careful to avoid my IV line and monitors. I curled into him, breathing in his familiar, comforting scent and I felt myself relax automatically. His touch has always been the single most comforting thing in the world to me; it still is. There is no place on earth I’ve ever felt safer or more grounded than in his arms.
I clung to him as my contractions peaked, the pressure in my pelvis growing more persistent and the pain lasting longer each time. I was lying on my left side, my bent knee resting on Max’s hip and my head tucked under his chin. After an indiscernible amount of time, I gradually found that if I deviated from that position even by a few inches, I was overwhelmed by nausea. So I stayed very, very still. Though I knew it was common during labor, the last thing I wanted to do was start vomiting while having a contraction!
I vaguely registered the door opening and I felt Max shift ever so slightly so he could address whomever it was that walked into the room.
“She’s okay,” I heard him murmur in response to an unintelligible question. “If she moves at all, she feels like she’s going to throw up.”
“Liz?” I recognized the voice of Dr. Greenberg. “You don’t need to move, but I can give you something for the nausea if you’d like.”
I nodded, desperate for even the smallest reprieve.
“Okay,” she replied and I registered the rapid clacking of a keyboard for a few moments. “I just put the order in for both Zofran and Zantac, so the nurse should be in very shortly to administer them both. Once you’re feeling a bit better, I’d like to examine you. I think you’re probably in transition, so believe it or not the nausea is a very good sign. It means we’re getting close!”
“What about the epidural?” Max asked. I’d been wondering the same thing.
“Anesthesia’s been paged, but there are only two attendings on and at the moment both of them are in surgery. One of them will be here as soon as they possibly can, but I know how hard it is to wait,” she said sympathetically.
“It’s just that she’s in a lot of pain,” Max said plainly. “I hate seeing her like this; I hate that she’s suffering.”
Dr. Greenberg’s response became background noise as another contraction slammed into me and I braced myself against Max. “Pressure!” I ground out, my fingernails digging hard into his shoulder as he massaged my back. “So much pressure!” I repeated, gasping.
“Okay, Lillabet,” Max murmured soothingly. “She’s going to check you as soon as you can move, but for right now I just need you to breathe for me. In and out, as long and slow as you can.” He took a deep breath of his own and I matched my exhale with his.
“That’s it, Liz. That’s incredible. You’re incredible.”
His words of encouragement were such a small, simple thing, but they were my lifeline. I’d never felt so completely out of control in my entire life, but hearing his voice, knowing how unequivocally he believed in my ability to safely bring our son into this world made me feel like I had the power to endure - that I could actually survive this experience.
“Okay,” I whispered, blowing out a long breath as the contraction finally ebbed. “Okay. I’m okay.” I wasn’t sure if I was trying to reassure him or myself at that point.
“The nurse is here with the medicine, can you let her get to your IV?” Max asked gently, smoothing my sweat slicked hair away from my damp forehead.
I nodded and released his shoulder from my right hand, holding it out so she could access the clave.
“Hi Liz, I’m Jennifer. I’m going to be your nurse for the rest of the day,” a 30-something woman in fuchsia scrubs and spiky blonde hair introduced herself. I realized then that it must already be after 7. “I’m going to give you these two drugs and then I’m also going to hang some fluids. They’re electrolyte balanced and have a bit of sugar so they’ll hopefully get you feeling better shortly and give you a bit of energy,” she explained. “This is the Zofran, you should feel better as soon as I flush it.”
She wasn’t lying. I could taste the drug as it entered my system and as soon as she flushed the saline behind it, the nausea became almost non-existent.
“Oh my god,” I breathed, feeling my entire body relax in relief.
“Better?” Max asked, gently rubbing my bump as I rolled onto my back.
“You have no idea,” I sighed. “I’d rather suffer through another 5 hours of contractions than 5 more minutes of feeling that nauseated!”
“It’s good stuff,” Jennifer added, as she locked in the next syringe. “This should help as well. And hopefully anesthesia will be by soon to help with the pain and then you’ll be cruising!”
She finished administering the medications and setting up the IV drip, then she went about checking the monitors and making a few notes in my chart.
“Is there anything else I can get you right now?” Jennifer asked kindly, standing at the foot of the bed.
“Can she have ice chips?” Max asked and I was suddenly aware of my cracked lips and the dryness in my mouth.
“Of course,” Jennifer replied. “I’ll be right back with those and I’ll send Dr. Greenberg and Seurena in to do your exam.” I hadn’t even realized that Dr. Greenberg had stepped out.
We both thanked her and she shut the door quietly as she exited the room.
“This is so hard, Max,” I mumbled, feeling like I was about to cry. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Hey, look at me,” he insisted, crooking a finger under my chin and turning my face gently towards him. I pried open my eyes and met his, bright with concern. “I know I cannot begin to imagine how much pain you are in, but I also know that you are more than capable of getting through this, of giving birth to our son. You are working so incredibly hard and your body is taking amazing care of our baby. His heartbeat is so strong and he’s handling the contractions perfectly; Dr. Greenberg was absolutely thrilled. I know this is so hard, I know this is the hardest thing that you’ve ever done, but you are doing it with grace and aplomb.”
“Aplomb?” I managed to tease with a quirk of my mouth.
“It’s an SAT word I can’t seem to get out of my head,” he replied bashfully and I rolled my eyes. “Regardless, the point is that you’ve got this. And I’ve got you, Lillabet. If you stop believing in your ability to do this, I’ll believe for both of us.”
How is he even real?
“Promise?” I asked quietly, not trusting my voice.
“I promise. And you know I never make promises I can’t keep.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I rode out another contraction before Dr. Greenberg and Seurena made their way back into the room.
“Jen told me you were wanting these,” Seurena said, setting a large cup of ice chips on the tray table along with a plastic spoon.
“Thank you,” I managed, still getting my breathing back under control.
“Do you mind if I do a brief exam?” Dr. Greenberg asked, donning a pair of sterile gloves.
I shook my head and Max pressed a quick kiss to my forehead before easing off the bed so that they had room to work. He didn’t go far, however, immediately taking my hand in his as Seurena helped me into the stirrups.
I sucked in a sharp breath, wincing as I was probed, but the discomfort was almost laughable compared to what I’d been experiencing to that point.
“You’re at 9 centimeters, Liz. All that pressure you’re feeling is your baby’s head moving into the birth canal,” she explained, removing her fingers. “Your contractions should start to slow down a bit as you get closer to pushing.”
“What about the epidural?” I asked, panic fluttering in my chest. I never anticipated having to give birth unmedicated, but it was suddenly a distinct possibility.
“You can get an epidural up to the time you start pushing, it’s just a matter of how much time it has to work. Some women go from 9 to 10 very quickly, but others take quite a bit of time, so let’s not rule it out yet. I’m going to page again and see if either of the docs are able to escape the OR long enough to come get this done for you, but I can’t make any promises. It’s one of the disadvantages of being a small hospital; there are only so many physicians to go around,” she explained empathetically. “In the meantime, you might find it helpful to move around a bit. Let me go see if I can get someone from anesthesia up here.”
“Thank you,” Max said for both of us as another contraction began.
Slowing down my ass, I thought as the pain quickly took center stage again.
Once the pain finally subsided, I realized that I was no longer attached to the fetal heart monitor or the contraction monitor and I looked up in confusion, surprised to see Seurena setting the disks aside.
“You and your baby are doing really well and if you’re going to walk around a bit, it’s going to be difficult to do so hooked up to all of this machinery. At least you can take your IV pole with you,” she said, offering her hand to help me sit up.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and sat for a moment, leaning into Max until the room stopped spinning.
“The Zofran can make you a bit woozy, so just take it easy,” Seurena said, watching me carefully.
I nodded, gingerly rising to my feet, expecting another contraction to come crashing into me at any moment. I was, however, pleasantly surprised to find that being upright was alleviating the majority of my lower back pain.
We paced slowly around the spacious room, stopping every so often to breathe through a considerably less painful contraction. Dr. Greenberg was right; they were coming less frequently, but with each one the pressure in my pelvis seemed to increase exponentially.
“God, it feels like he’s right there,” I said to Max, rolling my hips as he held me.
“Do you feel like you want to push?” He asked, massaging my lower back.
I shook my head against his chest. “Not yet, it’s just the pressure, but I don’t think we’re far off.”
Seurena - who had stepped out of the room once she was sure that I was stable on my feet - came back in with a large, green rubber ball.
“I thought you might like to lean on this for a bit,” she said, placing it down in the center of the bed.
I glanced up at Max who gave me a small shrug and an encouraging nod. “What do I do?” I asked.
“Basically, you are going to lean over and give it a hug and rest most of your weight on your arms and upper chest. Max can stand behind you and rub your back, or come stand in front of you if you want to focus on him. Some moms don’t want to be touched at all during this stage of labor, but I think it’s safe to say that you’re not one of them!” She said, though not unkindly. She was right, the longer I labored, the more I needed physical contact for support.
“Where do you want me, Lillabet?” Max asked as I situated myself over the ball. I let out a small sigh as the change in position brought unexpected relief.
“Behind me,” I mumbled, rocking gently back and forth and then I let out a quiet mewl of pleasure as the heels of his hands pressed into my middle pelvis.
“‘Lillabet’ is a pretty nickname for Elizabeth,” Seurena commented. “Is that what your family calls you?”
“Just me,” Max answered in my stead. He could feel the tension seeping from my body and he knew that I wasn’t in any shape to reply. “‘Elizabeth’ is quite a mouthful when you’re two and a half, so I called her ‘Lillabet’ instead and somehow it stuck.”
“Wait, did you say two and a half?” Seurena asked, surprised. “How long have you guys known each other?”
“I met her for the first time in this very hospital when she was about 2 hours old. I was just shy of 5 months. Our mothers were best friends,” Max explained, still massaging my back. “I’ve loved her for longer than I can even remember.”
“Wow, that’s pretty incredible,” Seurena replied. “I’m pretty sure the longest relationship I’ve ever been in is with my student loans officer!”
I managed a quiet chuckle at her joke.
“I’m very, very lucky,” Max said, though it was definitely directed more towards me than to Seurena.
“I’m pretty sure I’m the lucky one,” I mumbled into the crook of my arm as Max worked his magic. It’s incredible the things those hands can do!
“That position seems like it’s helping, Liz,” Seurena commented after a moment. “Are you comfortable to stay like that for a bit while I check to see if there are any updates from anesthesia?”
I nodded my head in agreement, trying to focus solely on Max’s touch and my breath.
“Okay, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said and I heard the door close quietly behind her.
“How are you doing?” Max asked quietly, his fingers working their way up my spine to my shoulders and back down again.
“Okay. There’s a more definitive break in between contractions. And your hands feel incredible,” I added with a lilt. “Though I’m pretty sure that your incredible hands had something to do with why we’re in this present situation,” I quipped and Max laughed.
“I dunno, I seem to remember your hands doing some pretty amazing things too,” he teased back and I giggled groggily. While we both knew that the actual circumstances that brought us to that moment were a hell of a lot more sober, it was nice to have some playful banter in the middle of an otherwise serious situation.
“I can’t believe how close we are to meeting him,” Max said, bringing his arms around to encircle my bump.
I opened my mouth to reply, but I was suddenly and relentlessly bombarded by the overwhelming need to push.
“Lillabet?” He could feel the difference in the size and tightness of my stomach.
I couldn’t answer him, I couldn’t do anything except drop into a deep squat, my body bearing down entirely of its own volition. The sound that escaped my throat was deep and loud and primal, coming from somewhere inside of me that I’d never before accessed.
“Shit, Liz!” I heard Max yelp. He must’ve hit the call button because I vaguely registered a staticky voice ask if we needed assistance.
“She’s pushing! We need someone in here!” Max all but shouted into the receiver.
The contraction finally began to fade and with it went the need to bear down.
“I…don’t think…I’m getting that…epidural,” I gasped, but in that moment my brain and body were so dedicated to bringing my child into the world that my comment was no more than a simple, passing observation. Instincts are fascinating things.
Max was crouched down beside me, a hand on my lower back. “What can I do?”
“The bed…I need to get on the bed,” I insisted. “Quickly!” I added as another contraction began to build.
Just as Max was helping me up off of the floor, Seurena entered the room.
“You’re feeling pushy?” She asked, scrubbing her hands in the sink before donning a pair of surgical gloves.
“She’s not ‘feeling pushy’, she is pushing!” Max bit back as the contraction crescendoed and I once again bore down without any conscious intention.
“Okay, let’s take a look. Dr. Greenberg is on her way,” Seurena said, unfazed by Max’s outburst.
“Max he’s right there, the head is right there…It hurts so bad, Max!” I cried, my entire body trembling.
“I know, Lillabet, I know. He’s almost here, it’s almost over. I just need you to hang on for a few more minutes, everyone is coming to help. You are so strong and so capable. I am in absolute awe of you.” His voice was a refuge in a raging storm. I clung to his hand and forced myself to look at him, trying to block out the flurry of activity that suddenly surrounded us.
“I can’t do this, Max,” I whispered, tears rushing down my cheeks.
“Not only can you do this, but you already are,” he replied, staring deeply into my eyes. “And in just a little while, you’re going to be holding our son. He’s going to be right here,” he said, pressing his palm against my sternum. “And he’s going to look up at you and all of this pain and fear are going to be a distant memory. So what do you say we meet Gabriel?”
My body responded for me. The pressure became an indescribable burning and I knew that no matter what I wanted in that moment, I was going to have my baby.
“Okay, Liz, you’re doing great,” Seurena said, the end of the bed suddenly disappearing as she moved to sit between my legs. “I’m going to ask Jen and Max to hold your legs and I want you to relax your hips and let them do all of the heavy lifting. I want all of your energy to come down towards me. Can you do that?”
I nodded and then groaned which quickly devolved into a scream as I bore down against the licking flames.
“Lillabet, oh my god Lillabet, I can see his head! He’s right there, you’re doing an amazing job!” Max’s exuberance was palpable.
“Little pushes, Liz. That’s exactly right, nice and easy,” Seurena coached. “Good. Just keep breathing. Zoë, she’s crowning,” she called over her shoulder and I saw Dr. Greenberg enter the room out of the corner of my eye.
The next 20 minutes were some of the most agonizing and exhilarating of my entire life, culminating with the single most beautiful sound I have ever heard to this day: my son’s first cries.
At 3:33 pm on October 16th, 2000, Gabriel Parker Evans was born.
And our lives would never be the same again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I've worked very hard to achieve authenticity in this story - from researching dates and locations and area-specific things as well as bringing as much cannon into an A/U story as possible. This chapter is no exception. I have never had my own children, so I did quite a bit of research and "interviewed" a few friends who have, so I hope that I've done the process justice!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I’d made a mental note of the time of that first contraction and I only had one other while I was in the shower, lasting a bit less than thirty seconds.
I luxuriated in the hot water, taking the time to wash and condition my hair and shave as much of myself as my belly would allow. I ran my soapy hands lovingly over my bump, a mixture of emotions swirling through my head as I contemplated what the next day or so would bring. I was certainly ready to no longer be pregnant and desperately eager to meet my son, but there was a part of me that realized how much I was going to miss having him inside of my body and so close to my heart. I felt like I could protect him so completely, nestled beneath my ribcage. There, the world couldn’t touch him and I could keep him safe.
“There are so many people that are so eager to meet you, Bug,” I murmured, staring down at my swell. “But no one in this world wants to meet you more than me and your Daddy.”
I took the time to blow dry my hair, lotion my skin, and even put on a touch of makeup. It would be a long while before self-care would come first again.
Another contraction set in as I stepped out of the bathroom and I leaned against the door jamb and breathed slowly until it passed.
“15 minutes apart,” I said to Max who was perched on the edge of the bed, watching me intently. He’d procured a notebook while I was in the shower and I watched him jot down the time.
“How long are they lasting?” He asked.
“About 30 seconds,” I replied, rummaging through the dresser for an old pair of sweats and a t-shirt.
Once I was dressed, I sat down beside Max on the bed and took his hand in mine.
“How are you feeling?” He asked quietly.
“Honestly? Terrified. And desperately glad I don’t have to do this alone,” I said, resting my head on his shoulder.
He pressed his lips to my hair.
“But I’m so excited to meet him, Max,” I added, stroking my bump. “By this time next week, we’re going to be seasoned pros at this parenting thing!” I joked and he chuckled in response.
“Or at least not completely floundering!” He quipped and I nodded in agreement. “So what do you want to do now?”
“Well, we’re not supposed to even call the hospital until the contractions are 5 minutes apart and lasting more than 45 seconds, so we’ve got awhile yet to go. Why don’t we go watch a movie or something?” I suggested, trying to think of things that would keep my mind occupied.
“You’re the boss!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
We decided on Ferris Bueller’s Day Off - easily one of our favorite movies of all time - figuring it would be a good distraction. My contractions stayed consistently 15 minutes apart, but by the time the movie was over there was a definite change in intensity. What began in my back and moved into a dull ache low in my belly was now deep and persistent in my pelvis as well.
Sitting still was getting desperately uncomfortable, so I asked Max to take a walk with me around the block. We were a little more than a week from Halloween and a number of the houses on Murray Lane were decorated for the occasion.
“I can’t wait until next year when we can take Gabe trick-or-treating,” Max said as we passed by a house that was particularly festive.
“We should come up with a family costume!” I suggested excitedly. “We could do something Disney themed, like Aladdin, Jasmine, and Abu!”
“Or we could do something punny like ‘Ice, Ice, Baby’!” Max replied and my eyes lit up.
“Oh my god, that would be hysterical!” I laughed, imagining Max and I dressed up like convenient store bags of ice. “But only if we can dress Gabe up like Vanilla Ice himself!”
“Do you think I’d have it any other way?” Max said, waggling his eyebrows.
“Oh man, now I really can’t wait until next…” I was cut off mid sentence by a particularly strong contraction. I turned and braced myself against Max, doing my best to take slow, deep breaths but all I wanted to do was freeze against the pain.
“You’ve got this, Lillabet,” Max murmured into my ear, his hands on my hips as he slowly rocked us back and forth, his fingers massaging my iliac crest.
I sighed as the pain finally subsided, sinking into him for a moment, drained.
“Gone?” He asked, brushing my hair from my face.
I nodded. “Yeah. That was a bad one,” I replied, still catching my breath.
“You’re doing incredible, Liz,” he said quietly before kissing my lips.
“That was less than 15 minutes,” I said as we began to walk again.
Max glanced down at his watch. “Eleven. And it lasted for 40 seconds.”
“We’re getting somewhere!” I said, trying to look on the bright side. “But I think I’m ready to head home.”
“Of course,” Max agreed and we made our way back towards the house.
“Everyone’s here,” I commented as we approached the driveway. The Jeep was blocked in by Maria’s Jetta and Phillip’s new SUV was parked next to the Durango. Apparently he and Diane decided to head back early from Clovis.
“What do you want to tell them?” He asked, pausing on the sidewalk.
“I need this to be just you and me, Max,” I said. “I need this to just be about us. The three of us. Maybe that’s selfish, but it’s the only way I think I can handle this right now.”
“It’s not selfish, Liz. This is about you and what you need and no one else. Why don’t we go inside and you can head straight for our room and I’ll hang back and talk to everyone. They love you, they will understand. I promise,” Max said soothingly.
I nodded. “Okay. Thank you, Max.”
“Anything for you, Lillabet.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As luck would have it, the kitchen was mercifully empty when we walked in. I made my way towards our bedroom while Max went to find everyone.
I closed the door quietly behind myself and stared at the bed for a minute, contemplating whether or not I wanted to lie down. I was hoping to get at least a few hours of sleep later in the evening, so I decided that it was still too early. I knew some laboring women found relief in hot water, so even though I’d taken a shower several hours before, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to run a bath.
As I let the tub fill, I unpacked a few of the candles I’d brought back from my balcony and set them out around the bathroom. I leaned against the counter, swaying my hips as I waited for another contraction to pass, a low moan escaping my lips as it peaked.
“Liz?” Max called from the bedroom.
“In here,” I replied, letting out a long breath.
“You okay?” He asked, his hands immediately going to my lower back to massage my sacrum.
I moaned again, this time out of pleasure. “Better now. I thought I’d sit in the tub for a bit. Is everyone freaking out? Are they mad that I wanted to be left alone?”
“Mad? Absolutely not. Freaking out? Maybe a little,” Max teased and I smiled. “Everyone is going to stay here tonight and they’ll follow us to the hospital when you’re ready, but they totally understood you wanting it to be just us right now. I don’t know how much sleep anyone is going to get though, they’re all pretty excited!”
I nodded gratefully. I was incredibly appreciative of their support and it meant the world to me that they all wanted to stay nearby, but I was even more thankful that they understood how much I needed Max and only Max through this process.
“Can I do anything to help?”
I began to shake my head, but an idea came to me instead. “Actually, would you mind brining in the CD player? I think some music would be nice.”
“Absolutely. Anything in particular?”
“Sigur Rós,” I said definitively. I couldn’t think of anything that would be more soothing.
“Do you want help getting in the tub first?” Max offered.
“Probably!” I laughed sheepishly. As pregnant as I was, Grace was certainly not my middle name!
I stepped in and held onto his hands as I slowly lowered myself into the water, the heat immediately relaxing my muscles.
“Better?” Max asked as I settled in.
“You have no idea,” I sighed, leaning my head back against the wall.
He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Give me two minutes.”
He returned with his portable CD player, an armful of towels, my robe, and a large bottle of water.
I raised an amused eyebrow at him.
“You need to stay hydrated!” He said, handing me the water bottle. “And I didn’t want you to be cold when you got out,” he shrugged.
“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” I asked.
He grinned at me over his shoulder as he finished setting up the CD player and moments later Svefn-G-Englar came floating quietly out of the speakers. He stacked the towels and robe on the lid of the toilet and came to sit down next to me.
“Still eleven minutes apart?” He asked.
“Yeah, though the last one was longer. Maybe 50 seconds,” I said, trying to focus on releasing the tension from every cell in my body.
I imagined my body softening and opening, every muscle, tendon, and ligament relaxed and pliable. It was an exercise I’d learned in our birthing class and I was surprised by just how helpful I found it.
As I felt another contraction building, I reached out for Max’s hand and he slid his fingers between mine without saying a word. I focused on the sound of his breath, matching mine to his as it kept me from holding it. The contraction felt different in the water; no less intense, but definitely less painful.
I stayed submerged in the tub for several hours, Max periodically adding hot water as the temperature dropped. I needed a distraction between contractions, so I asked Max to talk to me. I didn’t particularly care if he started reading the ingredients off the back of a shampoo bottle, I just wanted something to occupy my mind.
“How about I tell something I’ve never told you before instead?” He offered when I said as much.
I turned to look at him, mildly surprised. Our lives were so intertwined that I had trouble fathoming that there were any secrets left between us. I nodded with eager curiosity.
“It was last year right around this time, I remember because the Crash Down was decorated for Halloween. You were working and I was hanging out with Alex in our regular booth suffering through a problem set for AP physics, both of us wishing you would go on break so you could help us.”
I laughed. “You know, for a computer genius and a guy who can do discrete math in his sleep, the two of you had a bear of a time with that class!”
“I can’t speak for Alex, but I like math for math’s sake. Applied math? Not so much!” Max replied, shaking his head. “But anyways, I was spending a whole lot more time watching you than I was paying attention to my homework. You were serving a particularly frazzled looking woman with a very fussy baby who looked to be 8 or 9 months old. You’d gone over to see if she needed anything and just as you approached, the baby reached out and knocked over her soda, absolutely soaking her. I was positive the poor woman was going to burst into tears, but you jumped right in, helping her mop up the mess and insisting that she go to the bathroom to clean up while you watched the baby.
“She must’ve asked you to hold him because you scooped him out of the high chair and propped him up on your hip, making funny faces and chatting away to him while you waited for his mother to return. And as his mother walked into the bathroom, your mother came out from the break room and stopped at our table to say hello. She noticed you with the baby and me watching you.
“And your mom said, ‘for someone who grew up as an only child, she sure does have a natural maternal instinct. I think if you two decide to have children someday, she is going to be the most incredible mother.’ She patted me on the shoulder and then continued about whatever it was she was going to do. And I remember thinking the exact same thing. You looked so comfortable and happy holding that baby and I couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to see you with our own child one day.
“I know your mom isn’t here today to tell you that you are going to do an amazing job and that you are going to be the most wonderful mother Gabriel could ever ask for, but she saw it in you. She always saw it in you. And so do I,” he murmured, his voice cracking with emotion.
“Oh, Max,” I whispered through quiet tears. I’d never even considered the possibility that my mother had contemplated my potential future as a parent. That she’d ever observed those qualities in me, that she saw me as someone capable of doing for my own child what she did for me was astounding.
Max gently ran his thumb under my eyes. “I didn’t tell you at the time because I thought it might embarrass you; you always hated it when your parents were sappy!” He teased and I laughed softly. “But I’m really glad that it happened so that I could tell you now.”
“Me too,” I agreed. I needed to hear that more than I even realized in that moment and it was something from which I drew strength many times in the years to come.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
By the time I wanted to get out of the tub, my contractions were hovering around eight minutes apart and still lasting 45 to 50 seconds.
I spent the next few hours doing my best to keep my mind occupied. I read between contractions and when I couldn’t focus on the text any longer, Max read to me. I tried all sorts of positions, trying to find anything that would bring a modicum of relief, but it was always fleeting. Max even managed to talk me into eating some soup and crackers. I wasn’t particularly hungry, but I felt significantly better after I ate something.
I knew that it was called labor for a reason, but I was still surprised by how exhausted I was. While I was hoping to be able to get some rest, I didn’t really think that it would be a possibility with my contractions coming with relative frequency. But by 10:00 pm, all I wanted to do was sleep.
“The next time we go to sleep in this bed, Gabriel will be in that bassinet,” I said gesturing towards the beautiful, deep blue Moses basket standing like a sentinel in the corner, waiting for its charge to arrive.
“It’s so crazy,” Max said, tucking a pillow under my hips as I situated another between my knees. “Comfortable?” He asked.
“As comfortable as I’m going to get, I think,” I sighed.
“Will you be okay for a few minutes if I just let everyone know how you’re doing and that we’re going to bed?”
“Absolutely,” I replied, yawning.
Max kissed my cheek. “Get some rest, Lillabet.”
I was drifting off before he even closed the door.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was shortly after 4 am when I woke up to pain infinitely more focused and persistent than anything I’d previously experience. I’d managed to rest for most of the night, but not truly sleep, though I must have passed out at some point. I was covered in a cold sweat and could see my belly shrinking and tightening with the contraction, my body trembling with the exertion.
I tried to breathe as quietly as possible, wanting to wait and see if this was an anomaly or worth waking Max over, but the second I shifted to sit up, he was awake.
“Liz?” He asked, concerned. He sat up beside me, rubbing my back in slow, soothing circles.
I moaned in response, the sound low and primal and entirely out of my control.
“You’re doing great, Lillabet,” Max murmured in my ear. “You are so incredibly strong. I love you so, so much.”
I slumped against him with a quiet sob as the contraction finally abated, not entirely willing to admit that this was the real deal. Max wrapped his arms around me and kissed my hair.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Max,” I whimpered, feeling suddenly and completely overwhelmed. I was 17 years old for christ’s sake! How was I supposed to not only give birth to an entirely new human being, but then be a parent - a good parent? What possessed me to think I could do this?
“Liz Parker, you are the strongest, most resilient person I’ve ever known. I cannot begin to fathom how difficult and scary this is for you, but I need you to hear me when I say that you are beyond capable. You’ve trusted your body to carry and nourish and nurture our son for the last nine months, you need to trust that it can do the work to bring him into the world. I do. I trust in it implicitly. And more than that, I believe in you. And I’m not going to let you do this alone; not labor, not birth, and not parenting. I’m with you every step of the way, Liz.” His words held such deep conviction that I couldn’t find room for argument. Intellectually, I knew that all of this was true, but I was admittedly having trouble connecting with my rational mind.
“I love you, Max,” I whispered into the hollow of his neck.
He held me through another freight train of a contraction just a few moments later. “That’s less than 5 minutes, Lillabet,” he said gently.
I nodded and sighed. “I think we should probably call the hospital.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Max offered to phone labor and delivery while I got myself together. There was a significant amount of pressure in my pelvis when I stood, almost as though I needed to go to the bathroom, so I figured I’d do so before we got in the car. I could hear Max relaying information to someone on the other end of the line, and he’d just begun to answer that my waters had yet to break when I felt a ‘pop’ and an unexpected rush of fluid along with another contraction.
“Uh, Max? Tell them that my water just broke,” I called shakily.
Max’s head appeared around the corner of the door. “It did?” His wide eyes met mine and we stared at each other for a moment. It was as though up until that point there was a possibility that this entire process could somehow just stop and Gabriel’s birth would no longer be eminent. But as soon as my membranes ruptured, I knew there was no going back.
“Actually, her waters just broke,” he said into the phone, about a thousand times more composed than I felt. “Okay, we should be there in 15 minutes,” he added after a beat and then hung up.
I cleaned myself up the best that I could and Max grabbed a few towels for the car.
“I need to let my parents know that we’re going,” he said, slinging my hospital bag over his shoulder.
I paused at the door and looked up at him. “We’re really doing this?”
“We really are,” he replied, kissing me gently. “Let’s go meet our son!”
Max stopped at Phillip and Diane’s door, knocking quietly.
“Mom? Dad?” He called, cracking it open a few inches. I could hear rustling and murmured voices and then the door flung open wide.
“Is it time?” Diane asked excitedly, tying her bathrobe. “Liz, sweetheart, how are you feeling?”
“Should we start getting dressed?” Phil asked. I could see him already rummaging through his wardrobe.
“We’re going to head in,” I said calmly. “I’m doing okay, but my contractions are less than 5 minutes apart and my water just broke, so we’re pretty sure this is it.”
Diane’s eyes lit up and she clapped her hands excitedly. “Okay! We’ll get dressed and meet you guys there!”
“Mom, don’t rush. It’s going to be awhile yet. We still have to get checked in, Liz needs to be triaged, assigned a room, and I’m sure there will be about a million pages of paperwork. Why don’t you guys try to get a little more sleep and then come in at a reasonable hour?” Max suggested.
“Son, we couldn’t go back to sleep if you paid us!” Phillip said, beaming. “You two go, we’ll let the other kids know and we’ll be right behind you.”
“Oh, Liz!” Diane said, enveloping me in a hug. “I am so excited for you and so, so proud. I cannot wait to meet him!”
“Me too,” I said, hugging her back. As soon as she released me, she wrapped her arms around Max and kissed his cheek. “And I’m so proud of you as well, Max.”
“Thanks, Mom,” he mumbled and I could see his cheeks reddening.
“Okay, honey, let them go before our grandson is born here in this house!” Phillip teased her. “We love you both, we’ll see you in a little while,” he added, resting his hands on his wife’s shoulders.
“We love you too, Dad,” Max replied and then turned to me. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
There was a kindly, older nurse and an attractive red-headed woman in a short white coat waiting for us when we arrived.
The nurse showed us into a small triage room equipped with a gurney and a fetal heart rate monitor. She handed me a hospital gown and some no-slip socks and asked me to get changed and let them know when I was ready.
I stripped out of my sweats and Max helped me to tie the Johnny before kneeling down to swap my Adidas slides for the hospital-issued footwear.
A soft knock sounded before the door opened to reveal the young woman followed by the nurse.
“Hi Elizabeth, I’m Seurena Becker,” she introduced herself with a bright smile. “I’m the medical student assigned to your case. Luckily, Dr. Greenberg is the OB on call, so she should be here shortly, but she’s asked me to examine you and get you settled into your room for her. And this is Nurse Susan, she’s going to be your nurse until change of shift at 7.”
“It’s nice to meet you both,” I said, grimacing as Max helped me up onto the gurney. “I go by Liz. And this is Max.”
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you guys. Sounds like we’re going to be having a baby today!” She said as she donned a pair of gloves. “Susan is going to hook you up to the fetal heart monitor as well as a second device that monitors your contractions so we can get an idea of how your little one is handling labor and how your contractions are progressing. And if it’s okay with you, I’m going to do a brief pelvic exam to check your dilation and your baby’s position.”
I nodded in agreement and Susan draped a sheet over my legs before lifting my gown to expose my belly.
“Just a bit of gel,” she said, squirting the warmed liquid on my bump. She placed a flat disc over the gel and moved the probe around for a few seconds before the sound of Gabriel’s heartbeat came through loud and clear. She then placed a second disc above it.
“I’m going to slide two bands underneath you so we can strap these into place,” she explained. Max gave me his hand and helped me to sit up a bit and she got the monitors situated quickly.
As I laid back down, another contraction began to build and I held onto Max hard, moaning.
“Look at me, Lillabet,” Max whispered, pressing his forehead to mine, his free hand cradling the back of my neck. I pried my eyes open, my vision swimming from the tears that threatened to spill over, but I locked onto his gaze. “Breathe, baby. Breathe. That’s it. You’ve got this, Liz. You’re doing an amazing job.”
I focused on the sound of his voice and my breath in my lungs until the pain finally subsided and I slumped back on the gurney once more. Max brushed an errant strand of hair away from my face and kissed my forehead.
“Well, you are certainly having some good contractions,” Seurena commented, watching the digital output to my right. “And it looks like you have a great birthing partner,” she added, smiling.
I squeezed Max’s hand. “I’m very, very lucky,” I agreed.
“Alright, while you’re between contractions, let me take a quick peek at you,” she said. She lifted my legs into stirrups and helped me to slide down to the edge of the bed. Her exam was brief but uncomfortable and I was glad that it was over quickly.
“Well, it looks like you’re at 7 centimeters and your baby is head down and fully engaged. Your membranes are completely ruptured and your contractions are productive, so I think we’ll be able to avoid having to use any Pitocin unless your labor stalls. I will have Susan place and IV; Dr. Greenberg does like to put her patients on supportive fluids during labor to help you stay hydrated and that way we have a line in case we need it. Is that okay with you?” She asked, depositing her used gloves in a biohazard bin.
“That’s fine, whatever you guys need to do,” I said. I’d never had an IV before, so I was nervous about the prospect, but I knew that it was for the best.
“Okay, great! And what about pain management? Did you and Dr. Greenberg discuss if you’d like to have an epidural?” She asked, making a few notes in my electronic chart.
“Yes, definitely yes,” I said quickly. If the past 14 or so hours were supposed to be easy compared to what was to come, I didn’t want any part of that unmedicated!
“Epidural it is, then! We’ll have anesthesia paged and they’ll come see you once we get you settled into a room. Now are you planning on having anyone besides Max in the room with you? Maybe your mom?” Seurena asked, glancing from the computer screen to me.
I felt a lump form in my throat and tried to swallow it down to answer. “My mom…” I began shakily, but Max stepped in.
“We just want it to be us. There are going to be a bunch of people in the waiting room, though.”
“That’s fine! Do you want any visitors after you have your epidural or do you want to wait until he’s born?”
I looked up at Max. I wasn’t sure what I wanted at that point because the only person other than him I truly wanted wasn’t going to be there.
Seurena noticed my hesitation and added, “you don’t have to make any decisions now, you just let us know what you’re comfortable with and that’s what we’ll do. We just like to know ahead of time in case eager family members try to crash the birthing suite!” She chuckled and I managed a weak smile.
“Hey, Lillabet,” Max murmured. I looked up at him and he gently ran the pad of his thumb under each of my eyes. I didn’t even realize I was crying. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I whispered in return.
“Alright, if you two can just hang tight about five minutes, we’ll be able to get you into a room and have you well on your way to meeting your son!” Seurena said.
“Thank you, we appreciate it,” Max replied.
She paused at the door as though she wanted to add something else, but she just smiled softly after a moment and pulled the curtain closed behind her.
“She didn’t know, Lillabet,” Max said gently, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.
I nodded against his chest. “I know she didn’t; I think I’m just feeling super emotional.”
“With good reason!” He added sincerely.
He held me through another contraction and just as it was ebbing, an orderly came in to move us down the hall to our room.
I noticed a gradual shift in my focus during that time; while there was a flurry of activity that included a seemingly endless parade of medical and administrative staff trying to complete my admission, I felt like I was watching them on television and not in real time. I have a vague recollection of answering a barrage of questions, of being transferred into a bed vastly more comfortable than the gurney from triage, of a collection of contractions - each gradually more intense than the one before.
Even though I was experiencing progressively more pain, my energy turned inward; my body instinctively recognizing that I was going to need every last reserve I had for the hours to come. I whimpered and I moaned, but there was no exertion or screaming. Had I the ability to be objective during that time, I would’ve been in absolute awe of how my body knew exactly what it needed. I did not make any conscious decisions during that time; that would’ve been nearly impossible. Instead, I surrendered to a biological imperative that was infinitely stronger than my own will. I trusted that my body - no matter how young or immature - knew exactly what to do and I did my very best to listen.
“Will you hold me?” I asked Max once we were alone again. We were still waiting on Dr. Greenberg and the anesthesiologist and Susan had stepped out to check on another patient.
“Always,” he replied.
I did my best to shift over in the small bed to make room for him and he situated himself next to me, careful to avoid my IV line and monitors. I curled into him, breathing in his familiar, comforting scent and I felt myself relax automatically. His touch has always been the single most comforting thing in the world to me; it still is. There is no place on earth I’ve ever felt safer or more grounded than in his arms.
I clung to him as my contractions peaked, the pressure in my pelvis growing more persistent and the pain lasting longer each time. I was lying on my left side, my bent knee resting on Max’s hip and my head tucked under his chin. After an indiscernible amount of time, I gradually found that if I deviated from that position even by a few inches, I was overwhelmed by nausea. So I stayed very, very still. Though I knew it was common during labor, the last thing I wanted to do was start vomiting while having a contraction!
I vaguely registered the door opening and I felt Max shift ever so slightly so he could address whomever it was that walked into the room.
“She’s okay,” I heard him murmur in response to an unintelligible question. “If she moves at all, she feels like she’s going to throw up.”
“Liz?” I recognized the voice of Dr. Greenberg. “You don’t need to move, but I can give you something for the nausea if you’d like.”
I nodded, desperate for even the smallest reprieve.
“Okay,” she replied and I registered the rapid clacking of a keyboard for a few moments. “I just put the order in for both Zofran and Zantac, so the nurse should be in very shortly to administer them both. Once you’re feeling a bit better, I’d like to examine you. I think you’re probably in transition, so believe it or not the nausea is a very good sign. It means we’re getting close!”
“What about the epidural?” Max asked. I’d been wondering the same thing.
“Anesthesia’s been paged, but there are only two attendings on and at the moment both of them are in surgery. One of them will be here as soon as they possibly can, but I know how hard it is to wait,” she said sympathetically.
“It’s just that she’s in a lot of pain,” Max said plainly. “I hate seeing her like this; I hate that she’s suffering.”
Dr. Greenberg’s response became background noise as another contraction slammed into me and I braced myself against Max. “Pressure!” I ground out, my fingernails digging hard into his shoulder as he massaged my back. “So much pressure!” I repeated, gasping.
“Okay, Lillabet,” Max murmured soothingly. “She’s going to check you as soon as you can move, but for right now I just need you to breathe for me. In and out, as long and slow as you can.” He took a deep breath of his own and I matched my exhale with his.
“That’s it, Liz. That’s incredible. You’re incredible.”
His words of encouragement were such a small, simple thing, but they were my lifeline. I’d never felt so completely out of control in my entire life, but hearing his voice, knowing how unequivocally he believed in my ability to safely bring our son into this world made me feel like I had the power to endure - that I could actually survive this experience.
“Okay,” I whispered, blowing out a long breath as the contraction finally ebbed. “Okay. I’m okay.” I wasn’t sure if I was trying to reassure him or myself at that point.
“The nurse is here with the medicine, can you let her get to your IV?” Max asked gently, smoothing my sweat slicked hair away from my damp forehead.
I nodded and released his shoulder from my right hand, holding it out so she could access the clave.
“Hi Liz, I’m Jennifer. I’m going to be your nurse for the rest of the day,” a 30-something woman in fuchsia scrubs and spiky blonde hair introduced herself. I realized then that it must already be after 7. “I’m going to give you these two drugs and then I’m also going to hang some fluids. They’re electrolyte balanced and have a bit of sugar so they’ll hopefully get you feeling better shortly and give you a bit of energy,” she explained. “This is the Zofran, you should feel better as soon as I flush it.”
She wasn’t lying. I could taste the drug as it entered my system and as soon as she flushed the saline behind it, the nausea became almost non-existent.
“Oh my god,” I breathed, feeling my entire body relax in relief.
“Better?” Max asked, gently rubbing my bump as I rolled onto my back.
“You have no idea,” I sighed. “I’d rather suffer through another 5 hours of contractions than 5 more minutes of feeling that nauseated!”
“It’s good stuff,” Jennifer added, as she locked in the next syringe. “This should help as well. And hopefully anesthesia will be by soon to help with the pain and then you’ll be cruising!”
She finished administering the medications and setting up the IV drip, then she went about checking the monitors and making a few notes in my chart.
“Is there anything else I can get you right now?” Jennifer asked kindly, standing at the foot of the bed.
“Can she have ice chips?” Max asked and I was suddenly aware of my cracked lips and the dryness in my mouth.
“Of course,” Jennifer replied. “I’ll be right back with those and I’ll send Dr. Greenberg and Seurena in to do your exam.” I hadn’t even realized that Dr. Greenberg had stepped out.
We both thanked her and she shut the door quietly as she exited the room.
“This is so hard, Max,” I mumbled, feeling like I was about to cry. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Hey, look at me,” he insisted, crooking a finger under my chin and turning my face gently towards him. I pried open my eyes and met his, bright with concern. “I know I cannot begin to imagine how much pain you are in, but I also know that you are more than capable of getting through this, of giving birth to our son. You are working so incredibly hard and your body is taking amazing care of our baby. His heartbeat is so strong and he’s handling the contractions perfectly; Dr. Greenberg was absolutely thrilled. I know this is so hard, I know this is the hardest thing that you’ve ever done, but you are doing it with grace and aplomb.”
“Aplomb?” I managed to tease with a quirk of my mouth.
“It’s an SAT word I can’t seem to get out of my head,” he replied bashfully and I rolled my eyes. “Regardless, the point is that you’ve got this. And I’ve got you, Lillabet. If you stop believing in your ability to do this, I’ll believe for both of us.”
How is he even real?
“Promise?” I asked quietly, not trusting my voice.
“I promise. And you know I never make promises I can’t keep.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I rode out another contraction before Dr. Greenberg and Seurena made their way back into the room.
“Jen told me you were wanting these,” Seurena said, setting a large cup of ice chips on the tray table along with a plastic spoon.
“Thank you,” I managed, still getting my breathing back under control.
“Do you mind if I do a brief exam?” Dr. Greenberg asked, donning a pair of sterile gloves.
I shook my head and Max pressed a quick kiss to my forehead before easing off the bed so that they had room to work. He didn’t go far, however, immediately taking my hand in his as Seurena helped me into the stirrups.
I sucked in a sharp breath, wincing as I was probed, but the discomfort was almost laughable compared to what I’d been experiencing to that point.
“You’re at 9 centimeters, Liz. All that pressure you’re feeling is your baby’s head moving into the birth canal,” she explained, removing her fingers. “Your contractions should start to slow down a bit as you get closer to pushing.”
“What about the epidural?” I asked, panic fluttering in my chest. I never anticipated having to give birth unmedicated, but it was suddenly a distinct possibility.
“You can get an epidural up to the time you start pushing, it’s just a matter of how much time it has to work. Some women go from 9 to 10 very quickly, but others take quite a bit of time, so let’s not rule it out yet. I’m going to page again and see if either of the docs are able to escape the OR long enough to come get this done for you, but I can’t make any promises. It’s one of the disadvantages of being a small hospital; there are only so many physicians to go around,” she explained empathetically. “In the meantime, you might find it helpful to move around a bit. Let me go see if I can get someone from anesthesia up here.”
“Thank you,” Max said for both of us as another contraction began.
Slowing down my ass, I thought as the pain quickly took center stage again.
Once the pain finally subsided, I realized that I was no longer attached to the fetal heart monitor or the contraction monitor and I looked up in confusion, surprised to see Seurena setting the disks aside.
“You and your baby are doing really well and if you’re going to walk around a bit, it’s going to be difficult to do so hooked up to all of this machinery. At least you can take your IV pole with you,” she said, offering her hand to help me sit up.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and sat for a moment, leaning into Max until the room stopped spinning.
“The Zofran can make you a bit woozy, so just take it easy,” Seurena said, watching me carefully.
I nodded, gingerly rising to my feet, expecting another contraction to come crashing into me at any moment. I was, however, pleasantly surprised to find that being upright was alleviating the majority of my lower back pain.
We paced slowly around the spacious room, stopping every so often to breathe through a considerably less painful contraction. Dr. Greenberg was right; they were coming less frequently, but with each one the pressure in my pelvis seemed to increase exponentially.
“God, it feels like he’s right there,” I said to Max, rolling my hips as he held me.
“Do you feel like you want to push?” He asked, massaging my lower back.
I shook my head against his chest. “Not yet, it’s just the pressure, but I don’t think we’re far off.”
Seurena - who had stepped out of the room once she was sure that I was stable on my feet - came back in with a large, green rubber ball.
“I thought you might like to lean on this for a bit,” she said, placing it down in the center of the bed.
I glanced up at Max who gave me a small shrug and an encouraging nod. “What do I do?” I asked.
“Basically, you are going to lean over and give it a hug and rest most of your weight on your arms and upper chest. Max can stand behind you and rub your back, or come stand in front of you if you want to focus on him. Some moms don’t want to be touched at all during this stage of labor, but I think it’s safe to say that you’re not one of them!” She said, though not unkindly. She was right, the longer I labored, the more I needed physical contact for support.
“Where do you want me, Lillabet?” Max asked as I situated myself over the ball. I let out a small sigh as the change in position brought unexpected relief.
“Behind me,” I mumbled, rocking gently back and forth and then I let out a quiet mewl of pleasure as the heels of his hands pressed into my middle pelvis.
“‘Lillabet’ is a pretty nickname for Elizabeth,” Seurena commented. “Is that what your family calls you?”
“Just me,” Max answered in my stead. He could feel the tension seeping from my body and he knew that I wasn’t in any shape to reply. “‘Elizabeth’ is quite a mouthful when you’re two and a half, so I called her ‘Lillabet’ instead and somehow it stuck.”
“Wait, did you say two and a half?” Seurena asked, surprised. “How long have you guys known each other?”
“I met her for the first time in this very hospital when she was about 2 hours old. I was just shy of 5 months. Our mothers were best friends,” Max explained, still massaging my back. “I’ve loved her for longer than I can even remember.”
“Wow, that’s pretty incredible,” Seurena replied. “I’m pretty sure the longest relationship I’ve ever been in is with my student loans officer!”
I managed a quiet chuckle at her joke.
“I’m very, very lucky,” Max said, though it was definitely directed more towards me than to Seurena.
“I’m pretty sure I’m the lucky one,” I mumbled into the crook of my arm as Max worked his magic. It’s incredible the things those hands can do!
“That position seems like it’s helping, Liz,” Seurena commented after a moment. “Are you comfortable to stay like that for a bit while I check to see if there are any updates from anesthesia?”
I nodded my head in agreement, trying to focus solely on Max’s touch and my breath.
“Okay, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said and I heard the door close quietly behind her.
“How are you doing?” Max asked quietly, his fingers working their way up my spine to my shoulders and back down again.
“Okay. There’s a more definitive break in between contractions. And your hands feel incredible,” I added with a lilt. “Though I’m pretty sure that your incredible hands had something to do with why we’re in this present situation,” I quipped and Max laughed.
“I dunno, I seem to remember your hands doing some pretty amazing things too,” he teased back and I giggled groggily. While we both knew that the actual circumstances that brought us to that moment were a hell of a lot more sober, it was nice to have some playful banter in the middle of an otherwise serious situation.
“I can’t believe how close we are to meeting him,” Max said, bringing his arms around to encircle my bump.
I opened my mouth to reply, but I was suddenly and relentlessly bombarded by the overwhelming need to push.
“Lillabet?” He could feel the difference in the size and tightness of my stomach.
I couldn’t answer him, I couldn’t do anything except drop into a deep squat, my body bearing down entirely of its own volition. The sound that escaped my throat was deep and loud and primal, coming from somewhere inside of me that I’d never before accessed.
“Shit, Liz!” I heard Max yelp. He must’ve hit the call button because I vaguely registered a staticky voice ask if we needed assistance.
“She’s pushing! We need someone in here!” Max all but shouted into the receiver.
The contraction finally began to fade and with it went the need to bear down.
“I…don’t think…I’m getting that…epidural,” I gasped, but in that moment my brain and body were so dedicated to bringing my child into the world that my comment was no more than a simple, passing observation. Instincts are fascinating things.
Max was crouched down beside me, a hand on my lower back. “What can I do?”
“The bed…I need to get on the bed,” I insisted. “Quickly!” I added as another contraction began to build.
Just as Max was helping me up off of the floor, Seurena entered the room.
“You’re feeling pushy?” She asked, scrubbing her hands in the sink before donning a pair of surgical gloves.
“She’s not ‘feeling pushy’, she is pushing!” Max bit back as the contraction crescendoed and I once again bore down without any conscious intention.
“Okay, let’s take a look. Dr. Greenberg is on her way,” Seurena said, unfazed by Max’s outburst.
“Max he’s right there, the head is right there…It hurts so bad, Max!” I cried, my entire body trembling.
“I know, Lillabet, I know. He’s almost here, it’s almost over. I just need you to hang on for a few more minutes, everyone is coming to help. You are so strong and so capable. I am in absolute awe of you.” His voice was a refuge in a raging storm. I clung to his hand and forced myself to look at him, trying to block out the flurry of activity that suddenly surrounded us.
“I can’t do this, Max,” I whispered, tears rushing down my cheeks.
“Not only can you do this, but you already are,” he replied, staring deeply into my eyes. “And in just a little while, you’re going to be holding our son. He’s going to be right here,” he said, pressing his palm against my sternum. “And he’s going to look up at you and all of this pain and fear are going to be a distant memory. So what do you say we meet Gabriel?”
My body responded for me. The pressure became an indescribable burning and I knew that no matter what I wanted in that moment, I was going to have my baby.
“Okay, Liz, you’re doing great,” Seurena said, the end of the bed suddenly disappearing as she moved to sit between my legs. “I’m going to ask Jen and Max to hold your legs and I want you to relax your hips and let them do all of the heavy lifting. I want all of your energy to come down towards me. Can you do that?”
I nodded and then groaned which quickly devolved into a scream as I bore down against the licking flames.
“Lillabet, oh my god Lillabet, I can see his head! He’s right there, you’re doing an amazing job!” Max’s exuberance was palpable.
“Little pushes, Liz. That’s exactly right, nice and easy,” Seurena coached. “Good. Just keep breathing. Zoë, she’s crowning,” she called over her shoulder and I saw Dr. Greenberg enter the room out of the corner of my eye.
The next 20 minutes were some of the most agonizing and exhilarating of my entire life, culminating with the single most beautiful sound I have ever heard to this day: my son’s first cries.
At 3:33 pm on October 16th, 2000, Gabriel Parker Evans was born.
And our lives would never be the same again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~