“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Two and half hours later I bust through the wooden doors of labor and delivery, skidding to a stop in front of the nurse’s station.
A young blonde nurse smiles up at me, her eyes widening when she takes in my disheveled stated. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here for Sylvie Matthews. She’s my wife and she’s having my baby and I need to get to her,” I huff, trying to catch my breath.
She taps a few keys on the keyboard and then buzzes me through another set of doors. “Room three zero six.”
A small shred of hope unfurls in my gut as I race down the hall, scanning each door. It finally comes into view and I bolt through like a crazy man.
Glancing around the room, I graze over my mother and Sylvie’s mother. And then my eyes land on her, my beautiful wife, and my body sags with relief. Her belly is still swollen with our child and the look on her face pulls me to her. She reaches out for me and I bury my face in her neck, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes.
“You made it.”
My hand covers her tight round belly, rubbing back and forth. “Back home, right where I belong.”
Lifting my head, I find her smiling. Tears are rushing down her flushed cheeks; her hair is sweaty and a small chunk is plastered to the side of her face. She’s never looked more beautiful.
She’s also never looked so exhausted, and I don’t miss the tight furrow of her brow or the sweat dotting her forehead.
Then her face contorts in pain as a contraction slams into her. Her entire body goes rigid and she reaches for my hand, squeezing it with a physical strength I didn’t know she possessed.
My wife is the strongest woman I know. Numerous times in our lives, she’s proven this fact over and over, and day after day she continues to amaze me, but nothing could have prepared me for this moment. To see her in pain like this fucking kills me.
Clenching her jaw, Sylvie squeezes her eyes shut, riding through the wave of pain. I ache to absorb every ounce of it.
“You’re doing so good, baby.” My words are meant to soothe and comfort her but they feel meager and weak.
She remains silent, her single-minded focus not wavering in the least as she breathes through it. Once the contraction subsides, she lays her head back on the pillow, straining to collect her ragged breath.
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, I kiss her damp cheek. “You amaze me, fearless wife.”
For the next three hours I don’t leave her side, coaching her through every contraction. They gave her an epidural about an hour ago and it’s helped a little but she’s still in a lot of pain.
Both of our mothers went down for coffee so it’s just the two of us. I sit next to her bed, wiping her brow, offering words of encouragement when Sylvie’s face tightens in pain again, and I brace for another contraction only it never comes. The monitors in the room start going crazy and next thing I know the room is flooded with nurses.
“What’s happening?” I ask, fighting for my spot next to her bed when a nurse tries to gently shove me out of the way.
Dr. Foss rushes through the doors with a hurried grace. She looks at a few things on the monitor and then pokes around at Sylvie before turning to us. “The baby is showing signs of distress. We need to do an emergency C-section.”
Sylvie’s face turns ashen and my heart slams into my chest.
“Sir, I’m going to need you to step back while we prep her.”
I keep Sylvie’s hand locked tight in mine. Panic rises in my throat. “No, I’m not leaving her side.”
Sylvie squeezes my hand, and I hate that she’s trying to support me through this when I should be the one supporting her. “I’ll be okay,” Sylvie assures me, but I’m not so sure. I kiss my wife on her lips as the nurses frantically move around me.
The nurse who gently tried to shove me out of the way is back and this time she isn’t giving in. “Sir, please.”
I step back, allowing the nurses to take over as I watch from afar, my eyes locked on Sylvie’s. Our fear is palpable, an ominous truth that everything I love could be stripped away in a single moment. The flurry of movement sends dread sinking in my gut, and I send up a silent prayer.
Please, God, don’t take them from me.
Once they have her ready, they lift the sides of the bed and begin to roll her out. I move to follow but another nurse steps up and hands me a set of scrubs. “Put these on. I’ll be back to get you shortly.”
