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As if feeling my stare on him, he looks my way and gives me a warm smile. “Are you ready for this?”
I nod. “I’ve never been so ready.”
Keeping it professional, Dr. Mayson looks back to the crowning baby and double-checks that everything is looking good. The monitor beeps and he looks up before finally nodding. “Alright, Rebecca. Let’s do this.”
Fear flashes across her face as the midwives on either side help raise her legs and then push them back toward her head as far as they’ll go. Rebecca takes a deep breath, and feeling the contraction bearing down on her, she pushes with everything that she has.
Dr. Mayson dives right in, using his hands to help encourage a healthy and safe delivery. The head comes closer but as Rebecca cries in pain and stops pushing, all movement ceases. “Come on, Rebecca,” Dr. Mayson says. “The hard part is nearly done. Don’t give up yet.”
Rebecca nods and tries again, screaming in pain as the baby moves through the birth canal. I watch closely, taking in every little movement, intent to stand and learn before Dr. Mayson takes a small step to the side. “Autumn, I want you to support the head.”
My eyes bug out of my head, but I don’t dare hesitate. My hand drops under his to where I can support the head as he shows me how to ensure that the baby comes out in a controlled way.
The head finally comes out and I resist jumping for joy. That was such a rush but we’re not done yet.
Rebecca’s contraction eases, and as she catches her breath, Dr. Mayson quickly moves his finger around the baby’s neck, checking for the umbilical cord. As he moves his hands on top of mine, I do everything I can to focus, his low murmurs washing over me. “Alright. Now, you need to help rotate the baby while pushing it down so the top shoulder can move past the pelvic bone on the next contraction.”
I nod, completely forgetting about his hands on mine, now solely focused on what I have to do. “Got it,” I tell him, starting to feel my nerves creeping up on me, knowing that while his hands are on mine, he’ll never let me fuck it up.
“Good. I’ll help and guide you on this one, but you’ll try it yourself with baby number two.”
Holy shit.
I nod, not brave enough to open my mouth as I fear a loud, terrifying squeal will come tearing out of me and scare the crap out of the mom.
Rebecca’s next contraction comes on, and Dr. Mayson quickly glances up at her. “Alright, a small push,” he instructs.
Rebecca does what’s asked of her as her face reddens, and as she does, Dr. Mayson helps me to guide the top shoulder through. Once that’s done, he releases his hold on me, and I easily guide the other shoulder out by myself.
The rest of the baby’s body comes out like some kind of slip-n-slide, and elation fills me. I know I had help, but I count that as a solo delivery. That was just as amazing as November’s baby, but delivering in this controlled environment without the stress of the powerless elevator just made it so much better. And to think that Dr. Mayson is about to let me do it again with baby number two. Wow, how did I ever get this lucky?
Just as I had with November’s baby, I reach through the legs of the exhausted mother and gently lay the baby on her chest. “Congratulations, Mom. One down, one to go.” Her arms instantly come around her baby and I watch with pride as the baby starts to cry.
Stillness fills the room with an awkward silence and I glance around, wondering why people aren’t rushing in to clean off the baby and prepare for the second one when I realize that all eyes are on me.
My face drops and I glance back at Dr. Mayson to find nothing but fury radiating from his stare.
I go over my actions. Everything was going great. I delivered the baby and then put it on its mom, just like we’re always taught to do. I don’t understand.
My stomach starts to sink as nothing but the baby’s cries echo through the room. “Autumn,” Dr. Mayson says, his tone making my stomach twist in agony. “Remove your gloves and your gown and leave my birthing suite now.”
I glance around, my eyes wide. “But …”
“Now.”
His tone leaves no room for questions or arguments so without a backward glance, I walk away, leaving the pregnant woman and her twins behind as big, fat tears begin to well in my eyes.
I push through the door and the second it closes behind me, I run and don’t stop until I’m crashing through the doors of an on-call room and crumbling into a mess on the floor, having absolutely no idea what I did wrong.
