The nurse presses a few buttons on the fetal monitor as I lie back down. “You should be able to get some rest now. You’re going to need it for delivery.”
My mother stands at the foot of my bed and smiles. “I’m going to go talk to your father and brothers. I’ll be back, sweetheart. Sleep a little.”
“Yeah, Ma. I’ll do my best.”
Moments later, everyone’s gone, and it’s just Leo and me left in the room.
“Better?” he asks.
“Maybe,” I say, but I can already feel the epidural working its magic, reducing the agony.
Leo leans over the bed and grabs my hand. “Just rest,bella.”
I close my eyes, thinking I can get a few hours. But I should’ve known better. Hospitals are not the place for any type of relaxation. People are constantly in and out of the room, staring up my birth canal like it holds some magical answers to the universe. There’s a flurry of people, studying my vital signs and the baby’s heartbeat. There’s no rest. There will never be a moment’s peace for the rest of my entire life because I’m about to be a mother.
* * *
“Push,”the doctor says as I hold my knees, feeling more exhausted than I have ever felt in my entire life.
“You can do this,” Leo cheers me on, and I’m back to wanting to end his life.
I feel like I’m attempting to take the biggest shit of my life, and no matter how hard I try to bear down and push it out, there’s nothing moving.
“I can see the head,” the doctor says, looking up from between my legs.
“Get the baby out of me,” I plead as tears stream down my face, pushing with everything I have in me.
“Just a few more pushes,” the doctor says, like that’s going to make me feel any better.
I don’t want to do a few more pushes. Hell, I don’t even want to do one more. I want this all to be over, holding the baby in my arms, forgetting all about the last twelve hours of my life.
“You’re doing so well.” Leo smiles as he wipes down my face with a cool, damp cloth.
“How about you two grab her legs and help her through the last few?” the doctor tells Leo and my mother, and I know we’re about to get to the grand finale.
Each one of them holds a knee, staring between my legs as I pull myself forward and push with everything I’ve got.
The doctor urges, “Harder, harder, more, keep going.”
The hate I felt for Leo transfers to the man huddled between my legs, telling me to do something I’m doing my best at already to push the baby out.
The pain’s gone, replaced by the most intense pressure of my life. I would’ve straight up died without the epidural. I know that now.
Three pushes later, I gasp for air as the baby’s shoulders break free.
“Oh my God,” my mother says as tears form in her eyes, and she covers her mouth.
“Bella,” Leo says, staring between my legs like he’s seen the most beautiful sight.
I press my head into the pillow, feeling relieved to have survived the delivery and happy as hell to have it over.
“Congratulations,” the doctor says, holding the baby in his arms before placing it on my chest. “You have a son.”
Leo wipes his face, hiding the tears I have no doubt are falling fast. “A son,” he whispers.
“Would you like to cut the umbilical cord?” the doctor asks Leo.
“Yes.” Leo nods.
