Page 116 of Broken (Broken 1)


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“That’s all well and good, but I’ve got a melon in me wanting to get out. Can we please share survival stories later?” I pant.

Jeanine vanishes for a few minutes, I vaguely hear the taps running and quick footsteps before she returns.

“Move her, I’m going to grab these pillows,” I’m not sure what they do, all I know is one minute I’m on the ball and the next I’m leaning back against Nathan’s open legs and my shorts are off.

The pain radiates throughout my body before focusing on one spot. The pressure is unbearable.

They keep talking to me, keep saying things but I can’t hear them. I can’t focus on them. The pain is too much.

“Need to push,” I grit out and I’m moved again. My back is against something soft, the couch cushions have been placed on the ground. It’s comfier than I was.

I can hear screaming, I can hear growling and cursing. After a moment I realise it’s coming from me. All sense of time has gone, I have no idea how long this pain has been going on, all I know is I want it to stop.

Fortunately my body seems to know what it’s doing and pushing with it brings me a small amount of relief. The pressure is unbearable, it’s burning so bad. I want to escape it, I can’t keep my legs still.

Nathan is holding one up to my chest I think. I can see him but I can’t focus on anything. Everything that’s happening is going through my eyes and not registering as reality.

So much pain.

It’s stretching, it’s burning. “He’s crowning,” I hear Jeanine say excitedly. “Come on Gwen, you’re doing brilliant.”

Nathan kisses my temple and holds my hand, his words are encouraging and the tone they’re delivered on is full of fear and excitement.

He’s crowning. It’s almost over.

Another pop seems to happen and I feel more water flood from between my legs.

“Bloody hell,” Nathan blurts in my ear. “The head’s out.”

Jeanine squeals with delight and orders me to push as soon as I feel the need to. Well… it’s not like I had other plans.

It seems like forever before I hear it, that beautiful cry that could pierce a fragile ear drum. Something is dropped onto my chest and my attention focuses on him.

“Well, he’s definitely a boy,” Nathan laughs and rests his chin on my shoulder.

He’s perfect, so damn perfect. His damp and gooey head holds a thick layer of dark hair. My hair.

His face is all Caleb, the shape of the eyes, the pouty lips and the nose. It breaks my heart and fixes it all at the same time.

“Well done,” Jeanine sniffs and dabs at her eyes with a hankie. “You did so well.”

“Why won’t he stop crying?” I ask, my tiredness showing in the sluggishness of my voice.

“He’s hungry,” Jeanine chuckles and begins wiping him down with a towel. “Leave the cord attached until the ambulance gets here. It’s better not to mess with that.” I didn’t even notice.

He’s hungry? Oh god…

There’s a loud knock at the door a few minutes later, good timing. Jeanine stands, I don’t think Nathan wants to move right now. I don’t want him to move right now.

Two paramedics walk in a few moments later, I’m relieved to see my doctor with them.

“Doctor Meadow,” Nathan gives him a polite nod.

The older man with slightly greying hair kneels down and holds out his hands, “May I?”

I nod and hand him the baby boy that I still can’t believe is mine. He places him on a white blanket that covers some kind of device that looks like a large set of kitchen scales. “Eight thirteen,” he says and one of the paramedics scribble it down. He clears the baby’s nose and mouth and pushes on certain parts of his body with his hands. I watch him take his temperature and check his vitals before cutting the cord and handing him to Nathan.

Nathan had no time to say no and now has my son in his arms, he stares down at him looking frightened and full of wonder. Like a rabbit caught in headlights. I don’t think he’s noticed that the baby is gunky and naked and it’s rubbing off on his bare arms.

“We need to deliver the placenta,” Dr Meadows says softly, his smiling eyes on me. He gets a paper, hat shaped thing under my chin in time to catch my vomit. Gross.

The next few minutes blur by, I’m only vaguely aware when Nathan, with Jeanine’s help, gets the baby in a nappy and dressed. I’m being sewn up and cleaned up. I’ve unfortunately had to have stitches which sucks because I’m going to be extra sore for a few days.

“We need to try feeding now,” Dr Meadows announces and Nathan hands the baby to Jeanine before lifting me onto the couch. That’s better, so much more comfortable.

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