“Still need to push,” Jenna grits out.
“Okay, do it, push down on a long, slow exhale,” Mom says.
“Oh fuck!” Marty’s body jolts back a little. “I can feel something.”
“That’s okay,” Mom says. “That’s your baby’s head.”
“What?” Marty asks, sounding a mix of horrified and delighted.
“But the ambulance…” Jenna moans, closing her eyes as more tears come.
“It’s okay, Jenna,” I say, and I move a little closer, bringing the phone more directly in front of her face. “You’ve got this.”
“They’re right,” Mom adds. “You can do this. I know it’s happening quickly and that’s scary and not what you expected, but your body is in control. Have faith that it knows what to do. Your body and your baby are working together perfectly.”
“Really?” She gasps through her panted breaths and tears.
“Yes, honey. Now let’s go back to those sunsets on Crete while we wait for the next surge.”
Jenna closes her eyes and there’s something about this prompt that has Marty visibly relaxing too. He moves in close to cradle Jenna again, keeping his hand between her legs.
“Okay, Marty, can you hear me?” Momma asks.
“Yes,” he replies.
“Can you confirm that what you can feel between Jenna’s legs is smooth and hard?”
Marty’s arm moves around a little. “Yes. And, oh shit! I can feel hair!”
“Beautiful,” Mom coos. “Okay. Loncey, I’m going to need you to prop me up somewhere because I need you to be ready with a clean towel to help Marty and Jenna.”
“Okay,” I say and my eyes quickly scour the bathroom.
“Here, on the sink.” Marty moves so he’s in front of Jenna. I step into the space he creates and prop my phone up against one of the faucets on the sink. I check the angle and while it’s not perfect, it gives Mom enough of a view of Jenna, and more importantly, Jenna can turn her head and easily see my mom.
“Okay, Jenna, keep taking your deep breaths and stay in Crete, but listen to me carefully. The next push may see you delivering your baby’s head so your pushes need to be long and strong. Remember your body wants to do this. It wants to birth your baby, bring her into your arms. All you have to do is focus on pushing and imagine holding her, because you will be doing that, very, very soon.”
“Okay.” Jenna nods. “Okay, I can do this.”
“Yes, honey, you can.”
“You really can,” I add and I pick up a soft towel from the pile.
“Now, Marty,” Mom says. “When Jenna starts to push I want you to keep your hand where it is and cradle the head but don’t squeeze or twist it, okay? Let it come out like it wants to. Just be there for your baby, okay?”
“Roger that.” Marty nods, sounding confident but up close, I can see how his face pales. I reach out a hand and place it on his shoulder.
“You’ve got this,” I tell him and he looks back and nods at me.
In the distance I start to hear sirens and I sigh out a deep breath.Thank God.
“Oh, fuck, here it comes,” Jenna says through a clenched jaw.
“Let it happen, honey,” Mom says. “Deep breath in and then push down on your exhale. Give it everything you’ve got.”
Watching Jenna, I can tell that she does exactly that. Her body tenses, her face twists and she grips the side of the toilet seat under her thighs so hard her knuckles whiten. She makes a low-rumbling sound but it doesn’t fully evolve into a moan or groan. It’s quite literally like she’s pouring all of herself into this push.
“Oh, fuck! Holy shit, Jenna, her head’s coming out!” Marty says.
