Every face in the room relaxes.
“Master Benjamin, what can I do?” Frederick steps forward immediately, dressed in a pair of dark pajamas.
“Answer the door when she rings the bell. Everyone else . . . I don’t know . . .” He looks to Gianni.
“We’ll wait outside. Just call us if you need anything.”
“Drugs!” I erupt. “I need drugs.” The force in my lower abdomen is unbearable.
“It’s a little too late for that,” Gianni informs me sympathetically.
The pain in my stomach is constant now, and all I want to do is push.
“It feels like it’s happening so fast. Should it be happening this fast?” I ramble as I see stars.
“It really is Baz’s kid!” Desmond calls from the hallway. “Always in a hurry with no place to go!”
“Shut the fuck up, man! I’m high energy!” Baz yells back, the banter distracting me slightly.
I squirm uncomfortably on the bed, breaking into a cold sweat. “Where’s the doctor? I feel like I have to push.”
“Don’t push. Just wait.” Baz traps my hand with both of his, trying to keep me calm. “She’ll be here any minute. Don’t push, Stevie. Wait.”
“That’s easier said than done, Baz. She wants to come now.” I pant like a thirsty dog.
“A few more minutes.”
“I don’t think we have a few more minutes. It feels like her head is breaking through my vagina!”
The door bursts open just in time as Dr. Miranda and Dr. Levinstein invade the room.
“Oh, thank God.” I drop my head onto the pillow.
They both get to work, slapping on latex gloves as they move in what looks like a choreographed dance.
“Okay, let’s have a look.” Baz helps Dr. Miranda reposition me on the bed so she can get comfortable between my legs, while Dr. Levinstein checks my heart rate and pulse.
“I should be in a hospital,” I cry. We discussed home birth, but there was supposed to be monitors and a doula—and drugs! Lots of drugs!
“There’s no time for a hospital. This baby is coming now. You have to push, Stevie.”
“With pleasure.” I’m slowly breaking down.
“Baz, help her hold her legs,” Dr. Miranda instructs. I wrap my hands around my shins and pull my knees up to my chest, groaning miserably from the excruciating cramps holding my entire abdomen hostage.
“Okay, Stevie, push.” Dr. Miranda looks like she’s about to catch a football.
I push as hard as I can, broadcasting a bloodcurdling scream.
“I see her head!” Baz leans over the edge of the mattress. “She’s got blonde hair!”
“She has hair?”
“Peach fuzz, but it looks blonde.”
“Okay, Stevie, one more big push, and this baby is here.”
I heave, dead tired on my back. “I can’t.”
