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“I’m good too.”
He takes my hand in his, squeezing.
“Let’s do this.”
~ ~ ~
I was in labor for twenty-eight hours with Jason, but once again, this baby is determined to be different. The labor moves quickly and the contractions come in brutal, breath-stealing waves, with the reprieve time in between becoming shorter and shorter.
“Motherfucker . . . that hurts,” I groan after a particularly intense jab that makes me wonder—for the hundredth time—why the hell I opted for a natural childbirth.
Temporary insanity. It’s the only explanation.
Dean rubs my back and breathes with me through each contraction. He feeds me ice chips and pats my forehead with a damp cloth. When I need to walk, he stays right behind me in case I need catching, and when I feel the urge to bend my knees and stretch my arms—it’s him I hold on to—clasping my hands behind his neck and hanging off him like he’s my personal, hot, monkey bar.
“Music,” I pant during a contraction. “Dean, I need my music.”
He steps away only long enough to tap the buttons on his phone, and the eclectic playlist we created together of “songs to have a baby to” fills the room. Some are relaxing and mellow, others romantic and emotional, some are just my favorite, and still others are upbeat and rock and roll, and Eye-of-the-Tiger-empowering.
When it’s time to push, I opt for the bed, chin down and legs up, my hands hooked behind my knees—grunting and panting—with my doula on one side, my OB down below ready to catch, and Dean half on the bed with me, holding me up as pain claws through me. His whispered words keep me calm and focused and his arms, his scent, make me feel safe and invincible.
At the end of another contraction, I collapse against Dean, gasping for breath. He brushes my hair back from my face and I beg him without asking for a thing.
“I’m so tired, Dean. I’ve never been this tired.”
“One more push, Lainey,” my OB says cheerfully. “Just one more. You can do it.”
And I fucking hate her. She can take her just one more and shove it up her ass.
“Dean . . .” I whimper.
I hear the song “Almost Paradise” playing from his phone as Dean presses his forehead against my temple, whispering, “You’re doing so good, Lainey. You’re almost there, you’re so close.”
I shake my head, because I don’t know if I can do this.
He kisses my damp cheek, and his warm, rough voice brushes my ear. “I’m right here with you, we’ll do it together. I love you. Lainey. I love you so much.”
The beautiful surprise of his words and the joy they bring, gives me the last lift I need to keep going. To nod my head for him and let him hold me up.
So when those tendrils of pressure start again in my lower back, weaving their way around, squeezing and squeezing and tightening until it feels like I’ll tear in two—I hold tight to Dean’s hand and lean against him and breathe deep.
And then I push with everything I have . . . one more time. And that’s how it happens, that’s when our beautiful baby comes into the world.
~ ~ ~
Dean
When I walk out to the waiting room there are more people than I expect, considering it’s still a few minutes before 7 am. Grams is here and Jason. Lainey’s parents and all four of her sisters, two brothers-in-law and one nephew. I didn’t grow up with a big family, but I guess I should get used to it—because that’s what I’ve got now.
I tell Lainey’s Mom and Dad, “She’s good—Lainey and the baby are both healthy.”
Grams shuffles over and gives me a big hug. “I’m so happy for you, Deany.”
I kiss her cheek. “Thanks, Grams.”
And then it’s Jason I walk up to—because he’s the one I want to tell first. I put my hand on his shoulder.
“You want to meet your little sister?”
His smile builds until it reaches all the way to his eyes.
“It’s a girl?”
“It’s a girl.” I nod.
He peers closer at my face. “Dude, were you crying?”
“Holy shit—so much crying. Wait until you see her—she’s so cute—you’ll cry too.”
Jay laughs loud and easy—then he comes in for an elated, back-pounding hug.
“What’s her name?” Judith asks.
“Ava.” And I laugh for no fucking reason at all. “Ava Burrows Walker.”
~ ~ ~
After Ava gets passed around from family member to family member, like an adorable hot potato, everyone eventually heads home, and that night at the hospital it’s just me and Lainey and the baby in our room. When Lainey is done nursing, I carry Ava over to the bassinet and change her diaper. Now that she’s warm and dry and her belly is full, her dark round eyes inch closed and her tiny, adorable mouth opens in a wide, precious yawn.
