Page 67 of Beyond His Control (His 2)

“What if my body can’t do this?” I say, panicking. “It’s happened before. The scar on my belly, I had a kid. He didn’t make it.”

The other women in the room stare at me as if they’ve seen a ghost, but I’m not going to explain it to them. I have other things on my mind right now, like birthing this damn baby, which is set on being born right now.

“That was different, both the circumstances and the baby. But you’ve changed. Your body knows what to do now,” my mother says. “You have to believe in yourself.”

“What if I need another C-section?” I mutter, sweat dripping down my forehead from all the pain and puffing. “What if it won’t fit?”

“It will. Trust your body,” she says.

Another contraction hits and contorts my body into positions I didn’t know I could take, and I suddenly get the incredible urge to get up and walk, so I push up out of bed and go to the shower.

“What is she doing?” Abigail whispers behind me while everyone tags along.

“I don’t know,” Sylvia replies.

“Women are supposed to birth on the bed, right?” Trisha says.

“Let her do her thing,” my mother barks at them. “If this feels better to her, let her do it.”

I’m not really listening. I’m far too focused on the pushing and shoving going on inside me. I can feel my baby move, and it’s making me anxious. Like I have to sit down and poop.

“I feel like … like I need to push,” I murmur.

My mother’s eyes widen. “But … you only just …”

A sudden surge has me leaning against the bathtub, my legs quaking from the pain. When it’s passed, I go down to my knees and peel away whatever’s left covering my butt. I need to get it all off.

My mother sits behind me and gently massages my back while I squeal in agony.

Suddenly water … rushes down my legs.

The contractions pick up speed, and I’m having a hard time concentrating on anything going on around me. All I know is that I need to let out a bellow, and it sounds horrific, but feels so good to do while I spread my legs.

A sizzling, burning pain is at my entrance, and I grasp my belly to hold the scar because for some stupid reason, I fear the baby might try to break me open and burst out through the seams.

“Oh my …!” My mother gasps.

“What?” I ask.

“Look,” she says. “Between your legs.”

My hand instinctively dives down between, and a bittersweet smile spreads on my lips. “I feel a head.” A panicky, neurotic laugh escapes my mouth. “Hair!”

A contraction hits me out of nowhere, and it’s so painful that I close my eyes and roar out loud like a lioness. The burn is excruciating as the baby turns inside me.

“Just a little more!” my mother says. “It’s almost there!”

I feel the baby coming out, the head first, then the shoulders, and pop! It slips out of me, right into my hands. In complete and utter shock, I pull the baby up to my belly and wrap my arms around its body.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” I mutter.

I can’t believe I actually did it. I birthed a baby, and it’s alive.

My mom was right … I could do it.

I could do it all along. I just had to believe in myself.

My mother’s hand sneaks along the side and gently raises the baby’s legs. “Oh! It’s a girl!”

A smile spreads on her face, and I can’t help but cry tears of joy. When her little mouth opens and a tiny cry slips out, my heart flows over with love. So much love … that it makes me forget all the pain and suffering I’ve had to endure to bring her into this world.

Just this little girl … she was worth it all.

Chapter 26

Noah

I’ve been waiting for what feels like hours before the door opens again. It’s Holly, and she looks both cheerful and melancholic at the same time, which unnerves me. “And?”

“Natalie and the baby are safe,” she says, holding her own hands close to her. “But you have to know it was very hard on her, especially given the circumstances.”

I nod but push past her anyway. I have to see her.

She’s lying in bed, and the moment I step inside, all eyes land on me, including hers.

But all I can look at is that beautiful bundle of joy cradled in her arms.

My heart skips a beat.

“It’s a girl,” Natalie says, a smile forming on her lips.

Tears spring into my eyes, and I step closer to look at the little girl in her arms. She’s so beautiful, calmly resting in a tiny blanket hand-woven by one of the other Matriarchs.

“We’ll leave you to rest now,” Abigail says, and she gets up from the bed. “C’mon, ladies. Time to go.”

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