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I screamed again and gripped Jonathon’s hand tighter. “Push now,” ordered Dr. Crane. I did and a more intense pain rocked through my body. I bit down on my lip and tasted blood. “Keep going, keep going, keep going!” Dr. Crane chanted.
It continued like this for ten more minutes before Dr. Crane said, “He’s stuck. Her pelvic bone is too small. I’m going to have to break it.”
“No!” growled Jonathon.
“It’s the only way!” said Dr. Crane. I could see that his scrubs and gloves were already covered in blood.
“Do it!” I screamed. “Get him out! Do whatever it takes!”
Jonathon snarled and grabbed Dr. Crane’s hand. “I know what I’m doing,” said Dr. Crane. “You can trust me. You have to.” Jonathon released his hand and came back to my side.
He kissed my forehead and brushed my damp hair back. A tear escaped the corner of my eye as I braced myself for more pain. I didn’t know how much more battering my body could take before it gave out. He put his forehead to mine and said, “Principessa, I love you. Forever and always.”
“Stop it,” I tried to say sternly but I was so tired that it came out like a whisper. “Don’t say your goodbyes. I’m not going anywhere.”
He didn’t look convinced.
“Ready?” asked Dr. Crane.
I nodded and whimpered, closing my eyes, and squeezing Jonathon’s hand tight. The
worse scream yet escaped my lips as the doctor broke my pelvic bone with his bare hands. I screamed and I cried and I screamed some more.
“I’m so sorry. So, so, sorry,” Jonathon chanted.
“It hurts!” I screamed. “Get him out! Please make it stop! Please!” I begged desperately and heard the beeping accelerate. Jonathon wiped away my tears with his cold hands.
“I can see your baby,” said Dr. Crane. “I need you to push. It’s going to be unbearable now that your pelvis is broken. But I think one more push will do it and I should be able to get him. Okay?” he asked.
“I can do this,” I whispered.
He gave me a sad smile. “You’re a strong woman. Get ready,” he added.
“Jonathon, hold me,” I commanded. He wrapped me in his strong arms and helped me to sit up.
I felt the contraction coming and began to push. Dr. Crane had been right. This was worse. So much worse. My finger nails dug into Jonathon’s granite skin and if he had been human it would have certainly drawn blood.
“Almost there,” Dr. Crane assured me.
I collapsed back onto the pillows and heard the most wonderful noise I had ever heard. Dr. Crane unwrapped the cord from around my son’s tiny neck and I heard his cry.
Jonathon looked relieved. The baby was fine and I was fine. And from his look, maybe this meant the prophecy was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t about us. For just a moment I had the fleeting thought that maybe I would be different. Maybe I could make it through this and stay human.
“It’s a boy,” the doctor said unnecessarily. Dr. Crane held him up for me to see and he was beautiful. He had dark brown curly hair, with just a hint of gold from his father, and the most beautiful, intelligent, brown eyes.
“He’s beautiful,” I started to say, completely drained of energy, and then I screamed again.
Dr. Crane looked perplexed. He wrapped up my son and laid him in a basinet. His cries rang in my ears. My arms reached out weakly for him. I wanted my baby.
I screamed again and clutched my mid-section. What was going on? What was happening to me?
I had thought I was fine. I had thought Jonathon was just overreacting about the labor killing me. Little man had come out fine. Except for the broken pelvis.
But this? It felt like my insides were being torn apart. My lungs were doing overtime. I couldn’t get enough oxygen. I knew I was dying. I had gotten my hopes up, thought I could stay human, but that wasn’t the case. Jonathon hadn’t lied like he had about so much else. My sweet little baby was going to be my death.
Dr. Crane sat down again and seemed to pale. “What is it?” Jonathon and I asked at the same time. I looked at my husband and saw that his relief had turned to horror.
“There’s another baby,” he gasped in astonishment.
