“We are,” I answer, rising to stand so I can help Ella up. She’s perfectly capable of getting up from a chair, but I’m honestly loving taking care of her. “I think Carson may be coming to hang out after school as well.”
Carson and Oliver have become best buds. While there are a couple of years between them, they bonded over their love ofBluey, and they both really enjoy helping my mom in the kitchen. Both Oliver and Violet have sets of their clothes at my parents’ house now, and are all too thrilled to be welcomed into the Santo family. Meanwhile, Violet has become my dad’s shadow. I don’t think he’ll ever admit it, but Violet is his favorite grandchild. There’s something about her sassy personality that won him over immediately. I’m sure he’s going to get a kick out of how she tries to pronounce bullshit, because she will undoubtedly perform for him as soon as we get there.
An hour later, after dropping the kids off, we’re on our way to the birthing center. Ella shifts awkwardly in the passenger seat, pressing on her protruding belly. “Are you okay? Contraction?”
“No, I don’t think so,” she murmurs. “Some weird pressure. I’m just uncomfortable.”
“What if the OB says you’re in labor?” I joke. “You know, you probably are. We didn’t put the bag in the car.”
“Don’t tease me,” she mutters. “All I need is you, my phone, and a charging cord. I bet whatever your sisters told me I needed to have I won’t ever use.”
“Well, a lot of that came from Arianna. She’s always been a massive over packer.”
“Whitley didn’t help much either. I shouldn’t have trusted her, since she’s an emotional basket case as well.” Whitley recently found out she’s also pregnant, from a fuck buddy situation, and theguy immediately said he wanted nothing to do with the baby. Not surprisingly, my parents basically adopted her, telling her they’ll be the family she needs. Whitley’s parents are both gone, and as an only child, she gratefully accepted the welcoming gesture from my family.
Thankful for the expectant parents parking right in front of the birthing center, I jog around the new SUV to help Ella out of the car. While neither of our cars were in dire need of an upgrade, we chose to get a larger SUV for Ella, as she’ll be most likely to have all three children at once for the time being. Since all will be in full car seats for the foreseeable future, Ella’s new car will be the family car. I sold my car, and took over driving her older SUV. It made the most sense for both of us to have SUVs for our larger family.
We’re whisked into an exam room as we wait for the OB. Doctor Morales has delivered quite a few of my nieces and nephews, and it’s surreal she’s now delivering a child of mine. But once the heart rate monitor is strapped onto Ella’s stomach, I see the immediate concern on the nurse’s face. “What is it?”
Ella’s hand blindly reaches out to grab mine as we wait for the nurse to respond. “I need to get Doctor Morales. I think it’s safe to say you’ll be delivering this baby sooner rather than later.”
A moment later, the doctor strides in, grabbing the ultrasound machine. After squirting a glob on Ella’s stomach, she applies the wand, gazing intently at the screen. She nods once, removes the wand, then wipes off the gel. Turning to us, she says, “The baby’s heart rate is decelerating. Usually that means there is a decrease in oxygen due to the umbilical cord being compressed, or there may be an issue with the placenta. Whatever the case, I’m not taking any chances. As long as you agree, I’d like to do an emergency c-section right now. It’s time to meet your baby.”
In shock, Ella nods numbly, then turns to me, bursting into tears. “I wanted the baby out, but not this way!”
“I know, sweetheart,” I whisper, slowly stroking her spine. “Doctor Morales wouldn’t do a c-section unless it was absolutely necessary. I’ll be with you every step of the way, alright? It’s going to be okay.”
We’re ushered into a birthing room, where Ella is handed a gown. Once she’s undressed, nurses arrive to quickly get her ready. The monitors are again attached to her belly, an IV is inserted, and she’s given a catheter. She’s administered medicine meant to relax her, and I step out to call my parents to let them know that they can start the Santo phone chain. We decided a month ago that my mom would also come to the hospital, as we felt having a mother here would be moving for both of us. I know if Ella’s own mother could be here, she would be, and I’m thankful my mom can step in. Gianna will be taking Oliver back to her house, while Violet stays with my dad.
When I’m given scrubs, booties, and a hair net, I find myself chuckling. When I catch Ella’s eyes, I shrug. “Guess I was right about not putting your hospital bag in the car.”
“Gia already texted me to say she’d grab it on her way to get Oliver, and she’ll give it to your mom.”
“I was only gone for a couple of minutes. You discussed that with Gia already?” I ask.
Ella cocks an eyebrow at me. “I texted her as soon as you said it wasn’t in the car, Leo. Did you really think we wouldn’t have a plan for everything? The Santo women could undoubtedly rule the world one day.”
I grin, leaning down to kiss her softly. “Kinda love that, baby.”
I’m suited up when a team of nurses come in, ready to wheel Ella into the operating room. “Dad, you wait here.”
“What? No!” I blurt out. “I have to be with her. Is this normal? Why keep the dad out of the room? This is bullshit.”
Ella snorts. “Bullshit. Bah-sit. Bah-sit! Oh, fuck. I think the relax-y drugs they gave me have kicked in a little.”
One nurse laughs. “We’re not keeping you out of the room, Dad. Just until we get Mom situated, and the spinal administered.Once we begin the procedure, you’ll be brought in. I promise you won’t miss the birth of your baby.”
“Alright, I guess,” I mutter. I look down at Ella, smiling happily up at me, and I’m momentarily struck speechless. She’s about to give birth to our baby. While this might be the first baby born of our blood, it’s our third child. But, regardless of the number, this is still a brand new experience for both of us. I bend down to kiss her, letting my lips linger on hers for a few moments. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you,” she coos, reaching up to pat my cheek a little too harshly. “Goodness, you’re hot. Do you know how hot you are?”
“Those meds kicked in fast,” I comment.
“They did. I like them. Is this what weed is like?” Ella says, then gasps, her eyes opening comically wide. “Oh! Is this what it’s like to take gummies? I think I would like gummies.”
I stifle a smile as I shake my head. “I’m not sure if a gummy gives you this much of a high, Ladybug.”
She waves gaily at me as they wheel her bed out of the birthing room, and then it’s quiet. Disturbingly silent, to the point where all I can hear is my own breathing and my quickly spiraling thoughts. What if something happens to her? We aren’t married yet. Ella was adamant that we not marry until after the baby was born. She wants a ceremony in our home, with just us and the kids, but was clear she needed to wear a dress and not feel like a beached whale — her words, not mine. If something happens to her, what happens to Oliver and Violet? I’m suddenly furious with myself for not making her write things down. Would I have any claim to them? What if the baby survives, but Ella doesn’t?
