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When we enter Melanie’s delivery room, we find her resting comfortably on the bed. She’s wearing a hospital gown, of course, and she’s propped up against several pillows. Her abdomen is big beneath the bedding. The lights are turned down low.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Melanie says. “I’m sorry about the bad timing. Christy tells me you were in the middle of your wedding reception.”
“Oh, no, it’s fine,” I say. “We came right away. She—the baby—is our top priority.”
Melanie smiles as if she’s pleased with my response.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
She winces. “Sorry. The epidural is helping but I still get twinges of pain. So far, so good. I’m about six centimeters and things are moving pretty quickly. I’d like to invite you both to stay for the delivery. If you want to. Don’t feel like you have to, but—”
“We’d love to,” I say.
Melanie nods. “Good. It’s only right that you be here for the birth. After all, she’s your daughter.”
Hearing Melanie say that sends a sense of optimistic excitement surging through me. She seems sure of her decision. Of course, in the back of my mind, I can’t forget the fact that she has 72 hours after the birth to change her mind. I think those three days are going to be the longest of our lives.
When the delivery nurse comes in to check Melanie’s progress, Jamie and I step back to give them room and privacy. We sit on the sofa in front of a window. The curtains are open, and it’s still daylight outside, but not for long. This time of year, sunset is pretty early. It’s possible that the baby will be born today—on our wedding day. Hopefully, in the future, we’ll be celebrating our wedding anniversary and our daughter’s birthday on the same day.
Jamie lays my hand on his thigh and covers it with his own hand. The warm weight of his palm is comforting.
“Doing okay?” he asks quietly.
“Yes. Just nervous.”
“It’s going to be all right.” He squeezes my hand. “In a few hours, we’ll meet little Hazel in person.”
I turn my hand over so I can link my fingers with his. He’s excited. I can practically feel the vibrations coming off him. He’swanted this for so long—to be a father. He’s worked so hard to prove that he can handle caring for a child. “You’re going to be such a good dad.”
He tries to hide his grin, but I can see it. “You’ll be a wonderful mom.”
“Well, between the two of us, I’m sure we’ll muddle through.”
During one of Melanie’s exams, the delivery nurse announces that it’s time.
“I’ll call Dr. Shaeffer,” the nurse, Cindy, says to Melanie. “It’ll be time for you to start pushing soon.”
“Molly.” Melanie holds out her hand to me.
Jamie and I both stand and approach the bed. When Melanie reaches for my hand, I take hold of hers. She squeezes hard. “You should be here, part of this.”
Melanie’s generosity hits me hard. She doesn’t have to include us. It takes a great deal of courage for her to let us be part of the birthing experience. Courage and selflessness.
“You’ll be able to tell her stories about her birth, how you and Jamie were present. That you were one of the first ones to see her and to hold her.”
My throat tightens when I think about what Melanie is giving up. Obviously, she’s made a choice based on what she thinks is best for herself and for the baby. I will have stories to tell Hazel when she’s older. Stories about her birth mom’s generosity, strength, and kindness.
It’s not long before the obstetrician arrives, assesses Melanie’s progress, and concurs with Cindy that it’s time.
Melanie’s body takes over because she starts pushing. I’ve never been present at childbirth before. It’s quite thrilling and nerve-wracking at the same time. Christy’s on one side of the bed, and I’m on the other. We’re both holding one of Melanie’s hands. Jamie is behind me, wanting to be close, but trying not to get in the way of the nurse’s work.
Everything happens pretty quickly from this point. Melanie pushes when her body tells her to. She’s strong and stoic. She’s squeezing the daylights out of my hand, but that’s okay. I’m glad my presence here seems to comfort her.
My heart jumps up into my throat when I hear the first shaky cry of the baby.
“She’s here,” Dr. Schaeffer says. “And she looks perfect.”
Melanie’s eyes tear up, as do mine and Christy’s.
