by B. L. Berry
“I know, it’s just that … I’ve changed my mind.” I bite my lip nervously, willing him to simply read my thoughts and hightail his tush back up here with me.
“Ah, I know what this is about …” Leo interrupts, looking at me over my stomach.
“You do?” Jeff’s head whips back to the base of the hospital bed.
“Yep. Fire Crotch here is afraid she’s going to defecate on the table. Classic paranoia. I see it in labor and delivery all the time.”
I cringe at his word. So clinical. So gross. And so right on the money.
“That happens?” Jeff tries to hide his mortification.
“Yes, sir.” Leo looks back toward me with a serious expression on his face. “Did you have Mexican last night?”
“No.”
“Did you eat Chinese food? I remember how that would often upset your stomach.”
“No!” I shout, getting angrier by the moment. Surely there is some doctor code where you can’t stare down the vagina of a former lover to deliver her baby. It seems like this would be simple, medical law. You know, if that were actually a thing.
“Then stop being so ridiculous,” Leo commands. “Jeff, you stay right here and be my right stirrup.”
Jeff obeys, and I open my mouth to plead with him one last time, but he speaks before I can even form the word. “Calm down, Henley. You’re going to be fine. This is the birth of our child. So stop focusing on poop because we’re both going to be up to our elbows in it the next few years. Shit happens. I’ll deal with it, but you need to find a way to get over it.”
And with the next contraction about to overtake my body, I do.
After close to thirty minutes of pushing, I feel like we’ve gotten nowhere. But according to everyone standing south of my equator, I’m making “excellent progress.”
They lie.
Because if my progress was so excellent, I’d have a kid in my arms and I’d be blissfully resting without my muff on display like it was the winning prize purse in the Showcase Showdown.
I’ve been watching Jeff intently, and he’s given nothing away. So if I have, indeed, pooped, I am none the wiser. But let’s just say that hopefully hasn’t been a problem because there are some places that couples simply should not go.
“Okay. This next contraction, I want you to give me a really big push, Henley.”
He’s joking, right?
“Haven’t all of these pushes been really big?”
Leo says nothing, but gives me a pointed look and then up at the monitor to gauge the next contraction. “Push!”
And I oblige.
I close my eyes and push with all of my might. It doesn’t hurt as much as I was expecting, but holy crap, this is a lot of uncomfortable pressure. A nurse counts down backward from ten. I wish she’d count faster so I can stop pushing.
“Go, baby, go, baby, go, baby, go,” Jeff cheers me on exactly like he has with every push. It’s quite endearing. Though I’m not sure if he’s calling me baby, or trying to convince the baby to crawl out of my body.
“I can see your baby’s head. You’re crowning,” Leo explains. “It has a full head of hair. Do you want to reach down and feel?”
I shake my head.
“Come on, Henley. It’s really quite amazing,” he coaxes.
“Oh … my … God …” I feel Jeff’s fingertips digging harder and harder into the skin of my calves with each word. He’s no longer looking me in the eyes, and the next thing I know, he’s on the floor, and my leg flops down onto the table as dead weight. It’s a damn good thing I’m numb from the waist down because that probably would have hurt a lot. What else could possibly happen to make this day more eventful?
“Man down!” Leo shouts a little too enthusiastically. I half expect him to make fun of my fiancé for hitting the floor, but he’s focused on the task at hand, so a nurse rushes into the room to tend to a passed out Jeff.
“Really, Henley? You couldn’t find a real man to be with?”
And now he’s just being cruel.
Jeff quickly comes to with his arms flailing around. Then he’s in my face, kissing my cheeks and apologizing profusely for missing the birth.
“We’re still in labor and delivery, sweetie.” I laugh, thankful he was only out for a moment.
A nurse brings him a chair and encourages him to take it easy. He pulls it right up next to my bed and grabs my hand tightly. I’m glad he’s okay, but secretly I’m relieved he’s relinquished his front row seat. Maybe that was Karma’s way of paying him back for that pastrami sandwich from earlier?
“So glad you could join us,” Leo quips.
“Are you okay, sweetie?” I offer him a soft smile as I relax before the next wave of pushing.
“Henley, stop pussyfooting around. Another contraction is coming, and I need you to push like you mean it.”
When the moment comes, I do. And not because he told me to, but because I need this whole ordeal over and a baby in my arms. Just as the nurse begins her countdown again, Leo clears his throat dramatically.
“Oh, beautiful, for spacious skies, for amber waves of grain.”
I grit my teeth, clench my eyes shut, and push with every fiber of my being. The longer he sings, the more anger takes over and every muscle in my body tenses. And if I ever hated Leo before, I loathe him now. There is a special circle of hell waiting for this man. I take a mental note to Google voodoo doll curses when I get home. I want to make sure I give this ass a receding hairline and take sick pleasure as I stab the doll’s canvas crotch with tiny pins. Anything to make his dick shrivel up and fall off.
“Keep going. The baby is almost out,” the nurse holding my left leg says.
“Good, good. This is good, Henley.”
“Puh-push it real good,” Jeff sings in my ear.
Tears streak the corners of my eyes, and I know that this is both my best work and my hardest work. A sudden wave of pressure relief is met with the glorious cry of a red-faced child.
“It’s a girl!” Leo proclaims as he holds our daughter up in the air for us to see.
“What? Where’s his penis?” Jeff is genuinely shocked. I’ll never understand how or why he convinced himself that he was having a boy. It’s always been a fifty-fifty chance.
“It’s a little girl — congratulations! Would you like to come and cut the umbilical cord, Dad?”
I wipe the tears from my cheeks and watch as Jeff cuts the cord with a shaky hand. He reaches out to her, and this little human we created wraps her hand around his pinky finger.
“Hi, there. I’m your daddy.” It’s clear he’s smitten.
She doesn’t wail inconsolably like newborn babies do in the movies. Her initial cries turn quickly into soft, sweet murmurs, letting us know she’s here and that she’s okay. That she’s perfect.
They whisk her away to clean her up, weigh her, and run the APGAR tests. I watch as a nurse swaddles her in a soft pink blanket. And that’s the moment before. That single split second before everything in my entire life changes.
The nurse places her into my arms, and instinct takes over. I shower her in kisses and soft whispers of love and savor the feeling of her skin upon mine. Whoever says they don’t believe in love at first sight has never held their own newborn child in their arms. Because in an instant, I am enamored, and life revolves around her.
Jeff kisses my temple. “I am so proud of you,” he whispers before turning his attention to his daughter. “And you, you are absolutely beautiful. I’m sorry that I’m going to have to lock you up until you’re forty.”
We’re all smiles in our own little bubble until Leo gives a not so subtle interrupting cough. “Okay, the fun’s over, Mom and Dad.”
“We’re not done?”
“Nope! Now it’s time to deliver the placenta.”
Oh, shit.
Yeah, it’s a thing. And it lasts eighteen years.
(Good luck with that!)
SEMANTICS
Not long after the
nurses have cleaned everything up, they transfer us to a private recovery room. That’s when the reality of our new normal set in.
Jeff and I haven’t so much as put her down for a second. I want her to know how loved and wanted she is. I know these days are numbered, and each one is a gift I want to commit to memory.
My upper body naturally starts to sway as I cradle her in my arms. “What do you think we should name her?” I emphasize the last word as my subtle way of saying, you were wrong!
“Just so you know, I’m still holding out hope that this baby will grow a penis.”
“You are utterly ridiculous, Jeff.” I shake my head at him and deeply inhale the delicious new baby smell, savoring every moment of it. “What about Spencer? I’ve always loved the name Spencer for a little girl.”
“Hmm … Spencer.” The name rolls off his tongue gracefully, but I can tell he doesn’t love it as much as I do. “That’s a fine name and all, but what about something a little more girly? Like Sophie?”
I scrunch my nose up in disgust. While I love the name Sophie, I taught a girl named Sophie last year who was such a little asshole. Those lashes and rosy cheeks may deceive some novice teachers, but I saw right through her charm and conniving ways.
“No. Sophie isn’t even up for discussion.”
“Ooookay, then. Lillian, perhaps? That was your grandmother’s name, right?”
The suggestion steals my breath and makes me smile. “Lillian is perfect. Lillian Elisabeth. For your grandmother, too.”
He leans down and kisses Lillian delicately on the forehead so he doesn’t stir her, then presses his lips to mine. Ever so gingerly, I pass Lillian to her father and melt as he softly begins to sing to her. Jeff wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t know any lullabies, but I take great amusement in the fact he’s changing the words to the Snoop Dogg’s Gin and Juice, rapping “got my mind on my mommy and my mommy on my mind.” It’s impossible not to fall even further in love with Jeff, watching him dote over his daughter.
“Thank you …” I say softly, fighting the building tears in my eyes.
“For what?” His forehead creases and his eyes turn curious as he looks at me for a quick moment before diverting his attention back to Lillian.
“For everything. You’ve been so incredibly supportive throughout all of this.”
Everything is such a vague word, but it’s the only one I’ve got. He could have run when he learned I was pregnant. But he didn’t. He gave me everything. And therefore he is my everything.
“Well, you’re my girl—my girls. I’d do anything for you two.” He beams with genuineness.
“About that …”
Jeff cocks his eyebrow.
“You know how I’ve always said that I wanted to get married after I had the baby, right?”
“Yeah …” The word lingers in the space between us with uncertainty.
“Well, I just thought that maybe it’s time we start thinking about it?” I shift on the bed, my legs still feeling a bit dead from the aftereffects of the epidural.
“Why are you talking about the wedding now? Enjoy this moment. Let’s get settled into this parenting thing and find our rhythm. We don’t have to plan this wedding until you’re completely ready.”
“What? You don’t want to marry me now?” I try to pout, but a smug smile plays at my lips as I see him consider taking the bait.
“I’ll marry you the instant you’ll let me. It doesn’t matter if that’s next month or next year. I love you, and it’s the kind of love that isn’t going anywhere.”
I hit the nurse’s call button and wait.
“Hi, this is Nurse Julie. Is everything okay?”
“Hi, Julie. Yes, everything is fine. I was just wondering if you could see if there was a priest in the building who could stop by our room.”
Jeff’s eyes go wide, and he looks at me with shock, mouth agape. The pieces are starting to fit together in his mind, and I’m not sure if he’s panicked or excited about the stunt I’m about to pull.
“Oh sure, honey, I can absolutely see if there is someone available to stop by and bless your baby.”
“Thanks,” I chime into the speaker.
I sit up a little taller and pat the open space next to me on the bed. “Blessing Lillian is fine and all, but I want to show you just how much I love you. This, right here, is all that matters. It wasn’t only a baby born today. It was a family. And with that, I want it to be our marriage, too.”
Jeff continues to stare at me, completely lost for words.
“What?”
“I can’t believe you just did that.”
“Why not? I’ve said all along that I wanted a small, intimate wedding.”
He runs his hand through his hair and watches me intently, trying to get a better gauge on the bomb I’ve just dropped. “This isn’t sleep deprivation and exhaustion overtaking your decision-making abilities, right?”
I laugh, shaking my head.
“And this isn’t some weird new mom hormone imbalance where you’re going to punch me in the junk and shout ‘psyche!’ is it?”
“I’m pretty sure nobody has said ‘psyche!’ since the late nineties. And please, rest assured that I am alert and completely ready for this.” I reach for his hand and squeeze it tightly. “I have never been more ready for anything in my entire life.”
And the words mean more than simply being married. I’m ready for this new life, our new family. As long as I’ve got Jeff, I have everything I need.
“God, I love you, woman.” He leans in and surprises me with the kind of kiss that puts all other kisses to shame, even with a baby balanced in his arms.
A few minutes later there’s a soft knock at the door. “That was quick,” Jeff comments.
I sit up a little taller in the bed, realizing that not only am I about to get married, but I’m about to do it in a soiled hospital gown. Meh … I’ve always felt designer wedding dresses were overrated, and weddings were more a party for the parents and their friends than the couple. I can hardly contain my smile.
It’s a shame it doesn’t last for long.
“Oh, hell no!”
Leo cautiously stands just inside the door and puts his hands up in the air like he’s trying to surrender. In his right hand is a small pink teddy bear. Leo looks different in his street clothes rather than doctor scrubs. If I squint my eyes just right, he looks like the guy I once thought I loved.
“What are you doing here?” Jeff delicately passes Lillian back into my arms, taking extra care to support her neck.
“I just wanted to stop by and see Henley before I head home.”
Jeff stands to meet Leo and extends his arm out for a handshake. “Don’t you think you’ve spent enough time all up in Henley’s business?” The look in Leo’s eyes tells me Jeff is squeezing his hand just a little too hard.
Good.
When Jeff finally releases his hand, Leo shifts his attention toward me. “Congratulations, Henley. You, too,” he says to my soon-to-be husband. “I’ve always known you’d make an incredible mother, and from the looks of it, I was right.”
It’s the nicest thing he’s ever said to me.
We spend a few minutes catching up, and it’s strangely nice to see that Leo isn’t all asshole. Deep down, underneath the mocking patriotic songs and obnoxious pet names, there is, in fact, a shred of humanity.
“Ahem.” A man dressed in black with a white collar clears his throat from the far side of the room. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Is now a good time or should I come back later?” He looks exhausted with dark pools under his eyes, and something tells me that ‘later’ would be tomorrow.
“Oh! No, now is a perfect time, Father. Please, come in.”
He walks in further and stands at the end of the bed with a smile on his face. “I’m Father O’Donnell. Your child is beautiful.” He looks fondly at Lillian. “May I?” he asks, reaching out his arms.
I pass my daughter to him, and h
e beams down at her. It’s amazing how such a tiny little person can have such a profound impact on a person. “Have you decided on a name yet?”
“Yes, Lillian Elisabeth.”
“That’s a beautiful name,” Father O’Donnell praises.
He asks us to bow our heads as he leads us in a prayer and blesses both the baby and our new family. When he finishes, he makes a small cross gesture on her forehead and passes her gingerly back to Jeff.
“Thank you, Father. That was beautiful.”
“My pleasure, and all the best to your family.” He turns on his heel and starts toward the door.
“Actually, Father, if we could trouble you for just one more thing before you leave…”
“Yes?” He turns back around to face us.
How on earth do I even broach this? I know you think you were here just to bless our little bundle, and I’m pretty sure we’ve broken at least four—maybe five of the Ten Commandments recently, but would you mind marrying us? I’m fairly certain if I were to step foot in a church, lightning would strike and engulf the building in flames.
Catholic guilt suddenly grips me, and I bite my tongue.
“Father, I am madly in love with this woman. Have been since the moment I met her last year. Every morning I wake up and thank my stars for how lucky I am to have her in my life.”
My heart doesn’t melt at his words. It soars.
Father O’Donnell folds his hands in his lap, listening intently. And out of the corner of my eye, I see Leo shifting uncomfortably.
“Nothing about our relationship has ever been conventional, but I know that she’s the one for me. We’ve been engaged for a few months now, and the only thing that could possibly make this day more remarkable than it already has been is to spend it with my wife. Sure, we don’t have all of the legal hodgepodge filed, and we don’t have rings here with us, and heck, our family doesn’t even realize we had the baby today. But it would mean the world if you would marry us. Right here, right now.”
I hold my breath and await the condescending look…
But it never comes.
“I am not one to judge you or your definition of conventional. I have always believed that love knows no bounds, and it’s clear by the way you look at her that this is meant to be. Besides, when you know, you know.”