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For context, I'd made him watch the entireStar Warsfranchise with me, and somehow, he'd gotten more hooked to it than I was—to the point where he wouldn't stop jabbering about building a tiny galactic alliance of some kind.
He wasn't being particularly helpful, bless his heart. He showed me a horrific set of images, the last of which depicted a baby exiting the mother's womb like they were on a ride at a water-themed park.
I told him it wasn't helping and proceeded to pelt him before he drew me into his arms and sealed my complaints with a kiss.
Leia got ready for school, and the second she left the door, Reed offered me a very lucrative proposal.
Not that the sex was helping—and I spoke as someone who'd tried everything, spicy food, yoga, long walks, a lot of cursing and crying, you name it.
"Maybe today's going to be different." Reed chuckled, taking me to the sofa.
I plopped down on it like a platypus, feeling the furthest fromsexy—I was an inflated water balloon at this point, but honestly, the man would find me sexy even if I walked around in a brown paper bag.
At 8:30 a.m. exactly, Reed touched my belly, and I felt a pop, quickly followed by a gush.
Soon, Reed yelled harder than me about my water breaking, and we rushed to the hospital like it was D-day.
We were only fifteen minutes away from the hospital, but the drive seemed like it lasted a lifetime.
We checked in at triage, and the nurse decided to preface everything by saying, "You look uncomfortable."
At this point, I barfed in front of her and then gave her a thumbs-up. "No, I'm just peachy."
She checked my cervix, and I was five centimeters dilated, seventy percent effaced.
I responded to each of her marvelously calm statements with a new round of barfing, and at that point, I raised the white flag and wept like a baby myself.
"Get me the epidural before I kill you," I shouted at Reed, waving my fists at him. Don't get me wrong—I still loved him. I'd just love him nicely later.
The nurses started me on intravenous fluids and a pill to help me eat something so I could push when the time came.
I had to sit on the bed with my back curled to prepare for the epidural.
Finally, the nurse told me I was dilated ten centimeters. I'd never heard something so relieving and horrifying at the same time.
"Push!"
Oh, fuck.
"Darling, you got this," Reed shouted over the chaotic blurring in my ears. "Think you're using the Force to push baby Smith out!"
"Reed," I screamed. "I appreciate the gesture, but now is not the time forStar Warshumor, damn you!"
He scratched his head, his face so earnest I truly felt for him. "Right, less Yoda and more, um, Chewbacca.Grr, rawr, you've got this, Junie."
I burst into laughter, the absurdity of his Chewbacca impression breaking through my tension. "Reed, if you keep that up, I might laugh this baby out instead of pushing it."
"Come on, you got this!" someone said—I had no clue who. All I knew was I needed my baby out in the world. I pushed harder.
"I can see the head!" the doctor called out. "Almost there, Juniper. PUSH!"
And I did. I called every last remaining inch of strength in me. I remembered all the times I'd been afraid I'd never get to experience this.
All the times I was sure my baby would exist, only once I was asleep and dreaming. And I pushed harder. Because this was happening. It was real. My baby was real. This was real.
The room erupted with a different series of cries, and I suddenly felt something leave me, like a whole sense of a universe emptying out into itself.
I heard them. Before I touched their little arms or saw their tiny nose, I heard their cries, telling me I was right, I had done it, I was ...
