“You’ve got this,” I tell her firmly. “You don’t need no stinkin’ epidural.”
“I didn’t like the look of the needle on the video,” she mumbles sheepishly. “And epidurals can screw up your legs and stuff…” Her face screws up as one more contraction hits. “Butmaybethatwouldhavebeenworthit, FUCK’S SAKE,” she gritsout. In time, the pain fades, and she growls, irritated. “This isn’t even meant to be happening for another two days.”
“Guess our little darling can’t wait to get out and start raising hell,” I risk joking, and it pays off when she laughs weakly.
“Guess so. Fair warning from him or her that they’re going to be a little whirlwind.”
I smile softly. “Fitting.” She lifts an eyebrow. “Our romance was kind of a whirlwind. Makes sense that our son or daughter will be one, born out of our chaos.”
Her answering smirk manages to be both fond and sardonic. “Whatever you say, big guy. Just get over here and dig your knuckles into the small of my back until I tell you to stop.”
Three hours later,and Nancy is staring at Sadie’s ass. Sadie’s on all fours, and I’m rubbing her back, kissing the top of her head, doing and saying anything I can think of to cheer her on.
“You’re doing well,” Nancy reassures us as the latest contraction - god, I’ve come to hate that word - comes to an end.
Sadie exhales hard. “I’m not getting anywhere,” she whimpers. “They keep going straight back in, and all my pushing is for noth - ”
“It’s OK, pumpkin,” I whisper, heart aching for her when she clutches my hand and rests her head against my chest. But she’s not wrong; the top of the baby’s skull is playing peekaboo.
“Leo’s right,” Nancy agrees. “It’ll happen, and the baby is doing fine. We’re not in any hurry.”
“Speak for yourself,” Sadie says through gritted teeth as she starts pushing again.
“Show me what you got, Mummy,” Nancy says in encouragement, and Sadie just freaking goes for it. She’s been silent while pushing up until now, just a little grunt of effort here and there, like she’s focusing all her energy on pushing rather than anything else. But a long moan escapes her now, and Nancy seems pleased with the latest result.
“Not long now,” she tells us. “I think the next contraction might get the head all the way out.”
“I’m so proud of you,” I whisper to my warrior queen as she gasps in pain. I really am. I always knew Sadie was the strongest person I knew, but after this, no-one will ever convince me that she isn’t the second coming of Xena.
“It hurts,” she cries quietly. After a few deep breaths, she seems to calm down. “I want my t-shirt off. It’s sticking to me.”
I ease it off her carefully, trying to make sure she needs to move as little as possible.
“Oh, god, I’m gonna tear, I’m gonna tear!” Sadie clutches at me, panicking.
“I don’t think you are, duck,” Nancy soothes her. “It’s looking OK here. And if you do, it’s easily mended.”
She lets out a sobbing moan, and if I thought she was freaking going for it before, she’s giving it everything she’s got and more when she pushes now.
“Good, good, good, good,” Nancy urges, and then, “theeeeere we are. Head’s out.”
Sadie starts to cry with relief, and my own eyes are starting to fill. “Well done, babe. Good fucking job. You’re amazing.” I kiss her head like it’s my sole purpose for existing. “I love you. I really fucking love you.”
How could I not?
“OK, next time you get a contraction, I want you to try and do it in one,” Nancy instructs her.
Sadie lets out ayou’ve got to be kiddinggroan.
“Just a few more moments, and we’ll meet our baby,” I remind her, not even wincing as she grips my arms again. “You’ve got this. It’s almost done.”
“OK,” she pants, “OK…” She takes a deep breath, and then yells, “FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUUUUUUUUCK!”
And then there’s a sound that changes everything.
A reedy cry.
Sadie slumps against me, completely and utterly spent, as Nancy lifts up a sweet little stranger covered head to toe in white goo, with a face scrunched up in outrage and a cranky, indignant wail. “It’s a girl!”
