AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s right, Phi,” I say. “In through your nose. Out through your mouth. You’re doing great.”
Delphine clutches my hand as she slow-walks around the room. I move with her every step of the way, helping guide her, and reminding her to breathe through the contractions. She has a tendency to tense up and forget the longer they’ve gone on and the more painful they’ve become.
We walk the perimeter of the birthing room a couple more times before she’s requesting a break. I ease her into the cushioned chair by the window. Her eyes light up when I hold out the cup of ice chips I’ve had the staff bring over.
“How am I already so exhausted and I haven’t even given birth yet?” she mutters.
“You’re pacing yourself. Your body’s going through many changes right now.”
She aims a small smile at me, crunching on the ice. “You are continuing to prove why you’re the best husband a wife can ask for.”
“This is a team effort. You’re the main player, but I’m your back up. My job’s making sure you’re good.”
“You’ve been keeping me sane.”
“Want to lay down again?”
“Let’s walk a little more first. I…ugh.”
The contraction comes in a powerful wave and renders her speechless. I rush over to hold her hand and count the contraction.
It’s still going by the time our head delivery nurse, Zinnia, comes over with a few other nurses.
I move to the side as another check is performed on Delphine. Their expressions communicate before their words do.
“Baby is sunny side up,” says Zinnia. “We suspected, but hoped once labor was induced, he’d shift into the correct position.”
“Sunny side up?” I ask. “What is that?”
“He’s partially breech. It means he’s positioned the wrong way.”
“Wrong,” I repeat. My eyes snap to Delphine, who’s already looking at me. Unease ripples inside me. The same kind of unease I can sense she’s feeling also but is too overcome with her contraction to speak up. I rush to be her voice. “How can we get him into the correct position?”
“We’re going to try an ECV—an external cephalic version. It’s a procedure that attempts to turn the baby the rest of the way into the head-down position. We’ll need you to lay down and relax, Delphine.”
The procedure takes over an hour. Delphine’s OBGYN, Doctor Lee enters with a small team of nurses, the middle-aged woman almost drowning in her scrubs. They attempt to apply pressure and get our baby boy to slide around ’til he’s head down. When that doesn’t work, they suggest Delphine change position.
I help as she extends carefully to her hands and knees and breathes through another difficult contraction.
“Is this okay, Phi?” I ask from beside her, smoothing hairs back and dabbing a damp towel on her face.
Her screams are growing louder, more distressed. The contractions come more quickly. They’re so intense, she’s bearing down and clenching. She squeezes my hand harder than I ever realized she was capable of.
The medical staff crowd around us and perform more checks to see if our boy has turned around.
“What else can we do?” I ask, forcing a calm tone. Only for Delphine’s benefit. Otherwise, I’d be making threats.
“There might not be much else we can do. She’s already in the final stage of labor. Her contractions are coming two minutes apart, and she’s dilated eight centimeters. We may need to perform an emergency C-section.”
“No,” Delphine grunts out. “I want to…UGHHH!”
Her pain interrupts the rest of her protest. I interject, aware of what she was about to say.
“My wife wants natural.”
“That may no longer be an option,” answers the nurse. “The safest delivery for a breech baby is cesarian.”
Delphine crushes my hand, battling through back-to-back contractions. I try to dab her face some more, but she smacks the towel away and begins puffing out erratic breaths.
