by ANDREA SMITH
“You wonder why she pisses me off,” he grumbles, but he can’t hide the look of amusement in his eyes.
“The doctor is in the hallway with your chart, baby. He says you're ready to deliver.” He is beaming and I'm excited. A contraction is building again as my doctor steps into the room. The nurse and several CNAs follow Dr. Addison into the room. An anesthesiologist arrives for the purpose of numbing me after the episiotomy for the stitches that will follow. In less than a minute, my labor room has been transformed into a birthing room.
“Are you ready to start pushing, Tylar?” Dr. Addison asks, pulling his mask up.
Trey follows suit, getting behind me as the fun is about to start. Twenty minutes and what seems like a hundred pushes later, I flop back against my raised up hospital bed, panting.
All I can see from my vantage point are my sheet-covered knees, the top of Dr. Addison’s capped head, and Trey’s halfway masked face staring down as the doctor is helping our baby exit my birth canal. I feel no pain at all during this part of it. I’m exhausted but elated. I see Trey’s eyes widen as the doctor hands him the baby. Trey looks down and smiles broadly.
Well, what is it? How is it?
I hear a suction noise followed by a squeaky cry that slowly builds in volume.
“Trey, do you want to cut the cord?” Dr. Addison asks him.
The nurse is now in the mix, directing Trey on how to cut the umbilical cord and it's clamped off.
“Trey, is the baby okay? Do we have a ‘Preston’ or a ‘Treyla’?” I ask loudly and impatiently.
“Hold on just a second, Mommy,” he says beaming happily. The nurse is swaddling the baby in a clean blanket. The crying has stopped, at least from the baby. Trey’s eyes are tearing up as he holds the swaddled baby in his arms. I'm totally unaware of what is happening between my legs, underneath the paper tent. My only desire is to hold my baby.
“We have a Preston,” Trey says, gently handing over the squirming little bundle to my open arms.
“Ohh, look, Trey,” I say softly, “look at his tiny little finger; tiny little perfect fingers!” Preston wraps miniature fingers around my pinky, which appears huge in comparison.
“Oh, Preston. Mommy and Daddy love you,” I croon softly, kissing his forehead. His tiny red face wrinkles up and makes a hundred little expressions. I count all of his fingers. They are all there. Ten perfect little fingers.
“I’m checking everything Trey,” I say, “taking full inventory of our perfect little Preston! Yes, I am,” I croon in baby talk. “He is going to be daddy’s boy, I can tell,” I comment, smiling up at Trey who has never looked prouder than at this moment. I was right. Men want sons and Trey got his today. I beam with pride at being able to give Trey his son. I pull the blanket away from the baby, wanting to count his toes. That’s when I see that something is missing.
Oh my God!
My head snaps up immediately in confusion. I look up at Trey. He is wearing a sheepish grin.
“Trey? What the?”
“Don’t be mad, Tylar,” he says, gently, “Preston is a great name for a girl, don’t you think?” He is sitting on the edge of the bed, next to me and our daughter. He leans down and kisses me softly on the lips. “Tylar, I love you so much and the fact that you want our daughter to be named after me is the greatest honor possible. What really matters to me, Tylar, is that she carries both of our names, okay? We did this together, right?”
I nod, covering the baby back up with the blanket, and holding her close to my heart.
“So, how about Preston Michaela Sinclair? Does that work for you, baby?”
“Oh yes!” I sob. I'm filled with emotion. I reluctantly give Preston back to the nurse so that she can clean, weigh, measure, and perform the Apgar scoring. The doctor is finishing up with my stitches. The delivery room is being cleared and I'll be transported soon to my private room. Trey has gone out to let Gina know about the baby and to give her my room number.
Nurse Ratched brings a clean Preston to me, now wearing a disposable diaper, pink gown, pink cotton cap, and pink knit booties. She is beautiful. I can’t stop looking at her. She has a full head of dark hair like Trey’s. She is sweetly sucking on her tiny little fingers. Her eyes are wide and alert. They are very dark blue, but the nurse tells me that most babies have blue eyes when they are born. I know that she will have Trey’s eyes. She is staring up at me. My heart swells with this new, indescribable feeling that I have for her. I lean my face down and kiss her head, breathing in her sweet baby smell.
I'm so enamored with my baby I'm oblivious that I'm being moved to a recovery room on the gurney. Trey and Gina are waiting there and immediately rush to my side. Gina takes some pictures of the three of us with her phone. The nurse assigned to me wants to help with my shower and brings me a fresh hospital gown. I refuse to part with Preston. Trey finally has to intervene on the nurse’s behalf, getting a bit strict with me. He takes the baby from me, promising that I can have her back as soon as I comply with the nurse. I grumble a bit but concede, following the nurse into my bathroom.
When I come back out, clean and freshly gowned, Gina is in the rocking chair, holding Preston and cooing to her. I look over at Trey who is leaning against the wall next to my bed and catch his smirk. He knows that I want to take the baby out of Gina’s arms and he is mentally weighing the odds as to whether I'll do it. Begrudgingly, I climb back into my hospital bed. Trey slides down, sitting beside me.
“She weighs seven pounds and eight ounces. She is 19 inches long,” I announce proudly. “Oh, and she’s a 10 on Apgar.”
“Of course she’s a 10,” he replies in his smooth and silky voice. “Her mommy's a 10.”
“Okay, that's pure cheesy, Trey," I reply rolling my eyes at him. "Have you called your parents yet?” I ask, watching Gina and the baby out of the corner of my eye.
“Yes, they’re ecstatic and want to fly over and spend some time with us. Mom wants to help when you get out of the hospital. Is that okay with you?”
“Of course Trey,” I answer, “I’d seriously appreciate her help. After all, she did such a fine, fine job with you.” He leans over and we kiss long and tenderly.
“Okay,” Gina pipes up, “my goddaughter is gagging over here at you two. Talk like that is going to end up giving her a brother before she’s ready for one!”
I blush at Gina’s remark though God knows I should be used to them by now. Preston starts fussing and within a minute she is into full-fledged wailing. My nurse hustles in, taking the baby from Gina and bringing her over to my waiting arms.
“This little one is hungry,” the nurse says, laughing. “She’s not shy about telling you either, Mommy. You're breastfeeding, yes?”
I nod. She must have read my body language or perhaps is just used to new mother apprehension.
“There’s no rocket science to nursing, Mom,” she starts, “you’ll be a bit nervous at first, afraid that you might be doing something wrong, not sure if the baby is getting enough to eat. Trust me, your baby will teach you how to feed her properly. The most important thing at first is to get comfortable with it. Your breasts are tender and as tiny as these little ones are, they can clamp on pretty tightly. The first day or so before your milk comes in you should nurse anyway. She’ll be getting the colostrum which is extremely important for her health. Your baby’s tummy is only the size of a shooter marble right now. As your milk comes in, her tummy grows accordingly, okay?” I nod again, grateful for her knowledge. Gina and Trey both watch transfixed as the nurse helps me with my nursing gown. I hold Preston against my breast as the nurse calls Trey over.
“Come here, Daddy. You can put yourself to use until Mommy gets comfortable with this, okay?” She shows Trey how to guide my nipple to Preston’s mouth, having to brush it against the baby’s lips in order to get her to latch on. It takes a few times and when she finally latches on, I know it.
“Wow,” I say, jumping a bit when she clamps on. Her instincts take over and soon I
can feel her sucking rhythmically on my breast. Her little tiny fists knead and push into them. “How does she know to do that?” I ask the nurse, awestruck. Preston is making some very loud sucking noises.
“She knows to do it by instinct,” the nurse answers, laughing. “We’ll make sure she’s hydrated when she’s in the nursery.”
Nursery? I want her in my room!
Trey has been watching me and now he reads my mind.
“Tylar,” he speaks up in his lawyerly tone, “let the nurses look after the baby as they’re trained to do. I’m sure they like to monitor newborns for the first 24 hours.”
“Listen to your husband, Mrs. Sinclair,” she advises, nodding her head in agreement with Trey. I blush at her assumption that we're married. Trey has filled out the form for her birth certificate making sure her name was exactly the way he wants it. I grumble a bit, shooting Trey a sharp look for butting in. The nurse departs, promising to come back shortly to see how we're doing.
Gina gets up and stretches. “I’m leaving too,” she says, “I want to call Ian when I get home. The reception’s spotty in here.”
I know Gina feels little uncomfortable witnessing our intimate scene with Trey and I on the bed and Preston sucking loudly at my breast.
“Be back tomorrow?” I ask her.
“First thing in the morning,” Gina promises. “I already sent pictures of my goddaughter to Ian. He wants us to get pregnant soon.” Gina smiles and I can tell that she is on board with that as well. She gives me a hug and even hugs Trey, congratulating him before she leaves to go back to her Aunt Becky’s.
“Do you think the world is ready for Gina and Ian’s spawn?” Trey asks, smiling at me devilishly.
“Trey,” I say, in a louder voice than I intend, “be nice!” My voice has startled Preston and she drops my nipple. Her tiny little face turns red and scrunches up unhappily. She starts fussing and fidgeting, her little mouth rooting against me.
“Now see what you’ve caused with our daughter,” I reprimand him playfully. “Will you help me get her on the other one, Trey?”
“I’d be more than happy to oblige, Mrs. Sinclair,” he teases, his fingers pulling at my other nipple.
“It’s not Sinclair yet,” I remind him, shifting the baby.
Trey is taking quite a bit of pleasure in fondling my nipple. The last couple weeks of my pregnancy have seen Trey pretty much do without sexual gratification. I was constantly having Braxton Hicks contractions, so I wasn’t comfortable at the end. Trey tried to convince me that the best thing for suppressing false labor was semen.
Nice try, counselor!
I position Preston’s tiny head at my breast; Trey rubs my nipple gently between his thumb and forefinger and guides it close to her mouth. She latches on with a vengeance.
“Yikes, she has some bite to her,” I giggle. Feeling her nestle against my breast, her tiny fists kneading into me, is almost pleasurable. She starts with the loud sucking again and I can tell Trey is mesmerized. He is watching her as if he can’t believe that she is finally here.
“Are you disappointed we didn’t have a boy,” I ask.
“I wouldn’t change a thing about her,” he says, taking his fingers and gently stroking the dark tendrils that have escaped her pink knit cap.
When my nurse returns, Preston is sleeping soundly against my chest. I don’t want to give her to the nurse just yet. She is snuggled into me warm and content. Trey shoots me a look of reproach, so I grudgingly hand my baby over into the nurse’s waiting arms.
“We’ll take good care of her, Mrs. Sinclair. Don’t you worry. We’ll have her back to you in the morning. Get some rest.” She bustles out of my room with our daughter in her arms.
“Why bother with the marriage ceremony, Trey? Apparently everyone already thinks I’m Mrs. Sinclair,” I say, waving my hand dismissively.
He is sitting in the rocker and looks over, quirking an eyebrow. “Don’t be mean, Tylar,” he admonishes gently, “you aren’t pissed about being called ‘Mrs. Sinclair,’ you’re pissed because she took Preston to the nursery. But I’m here with you, baby.”
I roll my eyes at him, still aggravated that I can’t have my daughter with me all night. I just met her a few hours ago.
“What?” Trey teases, sauntering over and sitting on the bed with me, pulling me close to him. His hand strokes my hair. “So I’m just the lowly sperm donor to be cast aside?” he complains.
I look up into his amused eyes and laugh. “I didn’t mean to be that way, I’m sorry Trey,” I reply. “I just miss having her next to me. We’ve been a mother-daughter team for the past nine months, you know?”
“Trust me,” he replies sweetly, “you’ll have plenty of time to spend bonding with our daughter.” His hand lifts my still damp hair up off of my neck. Trey lowers his head and I feel his soft lips on my neck gently kissing me. “I love you, baby. Thank you for our daughter, Tylar,” he whispers brushing his lips against my skin.
“It’s my pleasure Trey,” I reply, my mind floats back to that night in the stable, recalling the raw passion and frenzied lovemaking that gave us our beautiful baby girl.
“Happy belated birthday, Trey. I love you.”
The clock over the glass windows of the nursery read 11:17 p.m. Nurse Sheila Bradley just completed the last diaper change of her shift. She would be clocking out for the night in a little less than 15 minutes. What a day this has been. Five new babies in the nursery. Four baby boys and one baby girl. Nurse Bradley glances over at the row of clear bassinets. They are all down for the count, as least as far as her shift goes. Four tiny little blue cotton caps and one tiny little pink cotton cap. Five precious little angels.
It almost makes Nurse Bradley long for her childbearing days. They seem to have gone by in a flash. It makes a woman feel different psychologically when the reality sinks in that childbearing is gone forever. She supposes that's why God created grandparents. She peers out into the empty corridor on the other side of the glass viewing windows. That was a strange bird that had come in a little more than an hour ago. How did she slip up to the maternity floor unnoticed like that with visiting hours long since over? The woman was petite and attractive; she looked like she wasn’t much past 40 years of age. She seemed nice enough but she was one bull-headed lady that was for sure. Claimed she was from out of town and just got into Atlanta that very minute.
It was strange that the woman didn’t want to see her daughter. She'd been adamant about not disturbing her since she'd gone through a very complicated labor and delivery. Young girls always think their labor and delivery is complicated when it’s their first birth. Nurse Bradley chuckles to herself. The mother’s chart mentioned no such complications when she looked it up to see which baby she'd delivered.
Nurse Bradley should have followed regulations and called Security when the petite woman insisted she would not leave until she got to see her grandchild. It was her first grandbaby, she said, and she wanted to see it. Hell, there wasn’t any harm done. It took all of two minutes to pick up the little pink swaddled baby girl and bring her over to the window for her grandma to see. Grandma seemed especially tickled to find out she had a granddaughter. She waved her hand to the newborn baby girl, blowing her a kiss. She told her not to worry, “Nana” would be back soon to see her.
Nurse Bradley picks up her purse at the nurse’s station and walks over to the time clock. She runs it through and then returns the card to its slot with the others. She has been clocking in and out at this hospital for 23 years now. She presses the button for the elevator, waiting patiently for the doors to open.
Nurse Bradley is startled to see the same petite woman who'd visited the nursery earlier now standing in the elevator. She gets on and pushes the button for ground floor. Why is this woman still in the hospital? Nurse Bradley pulls her sweater a bit tighter around her as the hair on the back of her neck stands on end.
About the Author
Andrea Smith is a native of Ohio current
ly residing in Manchester, Ohio. To see her other published fiction novels and stay current with her new releases, please visit her at:
http://www.facebook.com/AndreaSmithAuthor
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6869343.Andrea_Smith
View her latest 'G-Man" Series on Amazon or Goodreads!
http://www.amazon.com/Andrea-Smith/e/B00A1MLQGY