“I want one as soon as possible. I can’t take the pain much longer.”
“Well, let’s get in there.”
By there, he means my vagina. The thing I used to love, and so did Leo. Now, it’s a bringer of pain and giver of life. My poor pussy will never be the same. Permanently destroyed by the tiny human trying to rip me apart from the inside.
“Just relax,” the doctor says before he practically shoves his entire arm up my cunt, feeling out my cervix. “You’re dilated enough for an epidural.”
“Give it to me now,” I say without hesitation. I’m no longer looking to be a tough chick. There’s no medal of honor for enduring the pain. The kid’s not going to be the least bit impressed when they get older because I went to hell and back just so they could be born.
“Are you sure?” Leo asks, still sitting in his chair, pain-free and a lucky son of a bitch he’s still breathing.
I point at him and narrow my gaze. “You shut your mouth.” I would’ve lunged off the bed and wrapped my hands around his neck if I weren’t tethered to the doctor because his hand’s still up my twat.
Leo throws his hands in the air, maybe realizing the precarious position he’s in. “Anything you want,bella.”
My mother laughs and shakes her head. “Don’t argue with her, Leo.”
“I’d never.” He shakes his head, learning not to fight me on anything because I’ll just dig my heels in more. “I think an epidural is a great idea.”
The doctor snaps his gloves off and stands. “The anesthesiologist will be in shortly to administer the epidural. You’ll feel better once it’s in place and doing its job.”
“Thank fuck,” I hiss.
“You’re about seven centimeters dilated. We’re almost there.”
I don’t know why everyone in the room keeps referring to my birth as a we. I’m the only one in excruciating pain. The only one about to give birth. There’s no we about it. Everybody else is just an observer of my misery and not an active participant.
I groan and writhe around with each passing contraction, waiting for the epidural to arrive and wondering what the hell birth is really going to be like. The kid’s still in my uterus and hasn’t even started the slow and mighty tight trip down to my vagina. I think of the shoulders and cringe, knowing the real pain hasn’t even begun.
A few minutes later, the anesthesiologist walks into the room with some paperwork and the biggest needle I’ve ever seen in my life. “Are we ready for some relief?” he asks, being chipper like everybody else who walks into my room.
“Never been so ready for something in my entire life,” I say as the nurse scans my medical bracelet.
“You’ll feel better quick,” he says, setting everything out on a tray next to my bed. “You’re going to need to sit up so I can get at your back.”
Sitting up, or should I say, the act of sitting up, has become damn near impossible. My stomach’s the size of a beach ball, and I don’t even remember what my feet look like anymore.
Leo rushes to my side as I try to pull myself up and fail. I don’t push him away or try to claw his face off because I need him to help me make this pain go away.
Leo pulls me up, and I throw my legs over the side. I have no shame left as everyone in this room has seen either my ass or my pussy. It’s no longer sacred or pretty either.
“The nurse is going to help me navigate your contractions, so we can do this safely.” He’s doing something to my back as he speaks, but I don’t bother to ask. All I want is relief, and whatever it takes to make that happen, I’ll do. “You need to hold completely still while I do this procedure.”
I don’t even remember what it’s like to be still. The pain and aftermath of each passing contraction make me move around the bed like I’m drunk dancing on the floor, too plastered to stand on my own two feet.
Leo looks me straight in the eye, holding my arms with each hand as he lowers himself so we’re face-to-face. “Just look at me,” he says.
I level him with my gaze. “You’re the reason I’m in this much pain.”
“I know. Focus on your hate,” he tells me. “Plot my death in your head if you must. Just stay still.”
My fingernails dig into his arms as I clutch him while he’s holding on to me. The procedure’s quicker than I imagined and not nearly as painful because, again, there’s a human ripping out of my body.
“In a few minutes, you’ll feel numb,” the anesthesiologist says. “You can lie back down and relax.”
“You’re doing great,” Leo says sweetly.
I still want to rip his face off, but the need to do so lessens every few seconds.
