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Hudson pushes her sweaty hair out of her face and presses his lips to her head. “She just told me it was time to go to the hospital. The contractions were still five minutes a part.”
“Then my water broke, and the pressure was unbelievable,” she pants.
“Okay, Madison. Breathe.” I look around the room, then back to Hudson. “Hudson, I need you to help her onto the kitchen table. I want her off this floor.” I spin around, looking for the sink and wash my hands. “Sawyer, I need you to get me some towels and olive oil. And find me a chip clip, if they have one.”
“We do,” Hudson answers. “Check the top drawer.”
I move back to the table and rest my bag on a chair. “Okay, Madison—”
“Maddie,” she corrects me. “You’re about to get up close and personal with my hoo-ha, doc. I think you can call me Maddie.”
“Okay, Maddie. I’m going to check where the baby is, okay? This might be a little uncomfortable.”
She makes a sound that’s a mix between a scream and a sob when I check her, which is easy because this baby is ready to meet the world. “All right, you’re about to meet your baby really soon. She’s right there.” I take a deep, centering breath, then look at the guys, who seem petrified.
“Hudson, Sawyer, I want you each to grab a knee.” I demonstrate what I want them to do. “Maddie, bend your legs and put a foot on each of their biceps.” Maddie does as she’s asked, and the guys move in. “Hold her like a football, boys.”
“Keep your eyes above the waist, Sawyer,” Hudson growls at his brother.
“Oh, God. Do not look at my vagina, Sawyer,” Maddie calls out, and Sawyer’s entire face flashes red.
“Jesus Christ,” Sawyer groans. “I wasn’t. I promise. I swear.” He looks at me in horror, and I refuse to laugh.
No man wants to see what a woman’s vagina looks like when a baby pushes out of it. But if it’s not your wife, I definitely wouldn’t suggest looking. Because the first time you see a head stretching the surrounding skin, it’s a little traumatizing.
I pull gloves out of my bag and put them on, then pour a little olive oil around the baby’s head.
“Are you going to sauté my kid, Wren?”
“No, Hudson. I’m trying to prevent any tearing for your wife.” No sooner do the words leave my mouth than Maddie cries out.
“Maddie, your baby’s crowning,” I tell her, and Maddie moans and breathes.
“Oh, God. She’s gonna have your big head.” She squeezes Hudson’s hand, and his face pales.
“I need you to not push for a minute, Maddie,” I tell her as I slide my hand inside her body.
“What’s happening?” she cries out, tensing.
I slide my finger under the umbilical cord that’s wrapped around the baby’s throat and loop it over her head, then breathe a sigh of relief because it was only looped around once. “The cord was wrapped around the baby’s throat, but I was able to untangle it. Now I want you to push with this next contraction, okay?”
She nods, and the guys pale.
“Hudson, Sawyer, I want you to each help Maddie hold her legs back.” They do as instructed.
Hudson’s eye’s never leave his wife’s, but Sawyer’s are locked on my every move.
“It hurts. Oh God, it hurts,” she cries as another contraction hits her, and she pushes.
The baby’s head emerges.
“Good job, Maddie. Now wait one minute,” I tell her.
“Why isn’t she crying?” she asks, petrified.
I get my hands around the shoulders and look up at my scared patient. “You’re doing great, Maddie. It’s time for a big push.”
“Sunshine.” Hudson holds her hand with one hand and her leg with the other. “Push, baby.”
