Epilogue
AYDA
“Ifucking hate you, Drew Tucker!” I screamed.
The pain in my body was immense, and I had been verging on exhausted hours ago. I was a mess, my hair stuck to my sweaty forehead, legs spread for the room, and stretch marks cradling my exposed belly. Yet, there stood my husband with his top off, looking perfect for the entire world.
But, I could see how tense the muscles in his bare shoulders were as I squeezed his hand. He was enduring the torture I was inflicting on him as yet another contraction rolled over me, and I was beginning to wonder what I’d done to myself when it finally eased enough for me to breathe again.
“Maybe hate is a strong word,” I mumbled as the nurse checked the machines.
Drew was scowling and trying to smile at the same time, but it came off as some weird kind of grimace, his eyes drifting to the hand I’d just tortured. “You could never hate me, Ayda.” Leaning closer, he reached up to brush some damp strands of hair away from my face. “And you can do this. You’re the toughest old lady I know.”
“Old—” my words were cut off as the now familiar pressure started again. My skin felt too tight for my body, and my griptightened around Drew’s abused hand again. They’d told me to hold off on the pushing while they’d made sure everything was okay, but the pressure was making it impossible. For the millionth time, it felt like it was too much—like I couldn’t do this. There was no way in hell I could push this baby out, not even when my body was demanding I do it.
“Ayda,” the doctor said, rolling her stool closer, in between my parted legs. This whole baby thing was really hard on my personal space. “This is it now. We’re ready. You can start pushing.”
I released a long breath, my eyes meeting Drew’s before I pulled in another. Digging my nails into the back of his hand, I finally started to push.
“Come on, baby,” Drew hissed, his body working with mine, leaning closer as though he wanted to push for me. I would have let him, too. I felt like I was trying to shit out a watermelon. I curled forward as I pushed with everything I had. The pressure was so intense that I was convinced I was being ripped in two.
“You’re crowning,” the doctor offered in a way of an update, but I felt her reaction was delayed. I could feel the baby’s head pushing, stretching, burning.
“I can’t,” I wailed, trying my best to remember how to breathe. My eyes found Drew’s as my body took over and pushed with every ounce of strength I had. My fingers were buried so deep into the back of his hand, I couldn’t seem to release my grip.
I was contradicting myself it seemed.
A scream started and stuck in my throat as the doctor moved around between my thighs and smiled up at me. Her mouth was moving but the words were drowned out by my body’s sudden chanting ofpush, push, push.
“Stop pushing now, Ayda.”
What the fuck?
“Can’t.”
“The baby’s head is out, sweetheart, but we have to check that the cord isn’t around the neck.”
I felt my bottom lip tremble. My body demanded that I rid myself of this pain immediately. My head was almost fuzzy with the odd feeling of being held open.
“Holy shit,” Drew whispered beside me, his attention drifting to where the doctor’s hands were holding onto the baby we’d yet to meet.
I tried to lift my head to look, but I couldn’t see over my stomach while I was fighting to catch my breath.
“You’re doing so well, Ayda. Now we’re going to have you give one last big push for us.”
Sweat trickled down my forehead and slid into my eye, forcing me to brush it away with my free hand before pushing up on my elbows and curling around my belly. Gritting my teeth, I could hear the strangled cry tearing free from deep inside me as the pain soared to a point I wasn’t sure was normal.
Then, I pushed.
Time slowed down as the stretching sensation left my body. The pain was receding, but my breaths wouldn’t come as a nurse cut the cord and swaddled the baby before whisking her away. Drew and I looked after them, the time ticking painfully away until a high-pitched wail came from the other side of the room.
My skin broke out in goosebumps at the sound of our baby, and tears clouded my eyes, that cry making my arms ache, and my heart soar in my chest. Knowing that the baby was healthy had me searching for Drew.
His mouth was parted, his eyes wide as he stared at me, unable to believe the baby was here.
“You did it,” he finally whispered, wrapping a hand around my neck and dropping his forehead to mine. “Ayda, you did it.She’s here. Our little girl is here.”
I started crying. I couldn’t help myself. I was so overcome with emotion that I just fell apart. I needed to hold my little girl, see her beautiful face—kiss all ten fingers and toes. Everything in me seemed to ache for it. But this moment with Drew, this moment called for something more. Pressing my palm to his face, I pressed my lips against his and smiled a tearful smile.
