Never Giving Up (Never #3)

by Anie Michaels

  “What’s wrong?” He asked, panicked.

  “Contraction,” I managed to utter, still clutching my belly. The pain started very low, but shot out and felt like my entire belly was in a vice grip. It lasted forever, or about thirty seconds, which in labor time is forever. When it was over I took a few deep breaths to stop myself from vomiting and then stood up. “That was terrible. I thought they were supposed to get worse as labor progressed, not start off so painful you wish you were unconscious.” I looked at Porter for answers, but his face looked pale and confused. He would obviously not be offering me any labor advice at the moment.

  “Maybe . . .” he managed to speak. “Maybe you are really good at labor and skipped the easy part.”

  I laughed, forgetting the pain I had been in just minutes before. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” I said through giggles.

  Three hours later I was no longer laughing at Porter. It seemed as though he’d been partly correct is his assessment of my situation. I was really good at labor. Within an hour of my contractions starting they were four minutes apart and I was in some serious pain. Pants were pointless because with every contraction I leaked even more fluid and couldn’t stop chanting “Ew, that’s gross,” through each one. We did the stereotypical speeding car race to the hospital as I was sure the baby was going to fall right out of me. This was pain like I had never experienced.

  You could imagine my surprise when, after arriving at the hospital and making quite a fuss about how I was going to give birth right there in the emergency room, I found out I was actually only dilated three centimeters. That’s right, seven to go.

  “Are you sure?” I asked the nurse with her hand shoved uncomfortably up inside me. “Can you check again?”

  “I am checking, Honey, and you’re only at a three, maybe three and a half.”

  Well, for goodness’ sake, don’t rob a woman of that half a centimeter.

  They hooked me up to monitors and that was, by far, the best part—getting to listen to the heart beat all the time. It was a soothing sound, however, it did nothing to make the pain go away.

  Porter tried his hardest to make me feel as comfortable as possible, and in return I tried my hardest not to physically harm him. The contractions came and I turned into a woman I had never met before. I swore. I yelled. I was just plain rude. But when the contractions went away I apologized and promised to be better during the next one.

  It was a vicious cycle of pain and lies. It hurt more every time and I never got any nicer. Eventually on a down swing, I told Porter that I wouldn’t hold it against him if he left me.

  “I’m sorry,” I cried. “I don’t know why I’m being like this. I wouldn’t want to stay with someone like me. You can go, in fact, I insist. I don’t deserve you.” I blubbered. I had come unhinged.

  “Baby,” he said sweetly as he brushed the sweat-soaked hair from my forehead, “I’m not going anywhere. You’re doing great. I love you and you’re not doing this without me. You swear at me and call me names all you want. I promise I won’t hold it against you when all of this is over.” His words just made me cry harder. He was a saint. “Now, Ella, don’t get upset, but what do you think about getting some pain meds?” He looked as if he was waiting for me to smack him upside the head.

  “We said we were going to try to do it naturally . . .” I whined. We had a plan. I wanted a peaceful, calm, productive labor. Ha.

  “Baby, you’re doing so well, but I think maybe it would be good if you got just a little help with the pain.” He ran the back of his fingers down my cheek and I leaned into him. Pain relief sounded wonderful, but admitting that was breaking my heart. I had wanted so badly to do this right.

  “There is no right way to have a baby, Ella,” he said, reading my mind. “You’ve put in a lot of work, but maybe your body is trying to tell you that it needs a little help.” He kissed my brow.

  “You won’t think less of me if I get an epidural?”

  He laughed a little. “No, Baby, I won’t. I think it might save our marriage.”

  “I just wanted everything to be perfect,” I whispered as he leaned down to embrace me.

  “It’s up to you, Ella. I’ll stand here until the end of time listening to you yell, taking your insults, but it’s killing me not being able to help you at all. Watching you in this much pain tears me apart. Plus,” he said with a gentle smile, “I think you’re scaring some of the other moms in the maternity wing.” My lips turned up into a smile, but then turned right back around as another contraction came upon me. This time I buried my face in my pillow and stifled my screams until it was over, trying not to break Porter’s fingers as he held my hand. When it finally subsided, years later, I looked up at him with fresh tears in my eyes.

  “Ok, I think it’s time for an epidural.” He let out a huge sigh of relief. I pushed the little button on my bed and heard a voice come over a speaker system telling me she’d be there soon. When the nurse appeared, I was just finishing another torturous contraction.

  “How are you doing?” The nurse asked with sincere concern.

  “I think I want an epidural.” I said, trying to hide the shame in my voice.

  “Ok, well, there are a few things to consider. First, let’s do an exam to see how far along you are now. If you’re too far along you won’t be able to get one. Do you feel any pressure when you have a contraction? Urges to push?”

  “No,” I answered. “Just the distinct feeling like someone is ripping my stomach to pieces.” My comment came out more snarky than I had anticipated.

  “Ok, you’re going to feel a little pressure now,” she said, breezing past my rude comment. She lied when she said ‘a little’ and I cried out from the seriously uncomfortable feeling of someone trying to shove their fist inside my cervix. “Alright, you’re at four centimeters so you can still get an epidural if you want one.”

  “FOUR?” Porter and I both cried at the same time. The nurse tried to hide the fact that she rolled her eyes at us and then patiently continued.

  “Yes, four. Would you like me to call the anesthesiologist?”

  “I’ve been sitting here in agony for hours and you’re telling me I’m only at FOUR centimeters?” This woman was a pro because she did not even bat an eyelash at me.

  “This is very typical, I can assure you, Mrs. Masters. This is your first delivery. You could be here for hours and not make any progress. Now, would you like for me to call the anesthesiologist?”

  Oh, she was good. “Yes, I would very much like the epidural.”

  Epidurals are scary. In theory, you go into it knowing what is supposed to happen, but when someone actually tells you to sit still, through your contractions, while they put a needle into your spine, it very quickly becomes terrifying. There’s no way I would have been able to get through it had I not been leaning up against Porter’s chest. I think the doctors planned it that way. They know you’re going to freak out, so they tell you to lean against the one person who is supposed to make you feel better. Leaning up against him, smelling him, almost took away the fear, but not totally. Wood and soap, those scents are what got me through it.

  Slowly and gradually, over the next thirty minutes I started to feel the pain lessen until, eventually, I felt nothing. Well, I felt nothing except exhaustion. It was four in the morning and I could barely keep my eyes open.

  “Babe,” I heard Porter’s raspy voice but couldn’t bring myself to turn my head to look at him. “Get some sleep. I’m going to be here the whole time.” I felt him take my hand and it was the last thing I thought about before I fell asleep.

  Even though I was exhausted, I knew there was no way I was going to be able to sleep. It felt like there was sand in my eyes, they were so dry and red. I wanted to close them so badly and just fall asleep like this, with Ella’s hand in mine, but I made sure to keep my eyes open. The two most important people in my life were lying in a hospital bed and if something was going to go wrong, I was going to be
the first person to know—and to get help.

  I tried to keep the dark thoughts away. I tried to focus on the fact that this was a happy occasion. Hospitals didn’t always have to be a place where you almost lost the one person you love the most. It could also be the place where you found a brand new person to love. I tried to focus on that. We weren’t here to lose; we were here to gain.

  Ella slept for about three hours, never stirring, sleeping peacefully. I watched the screen just to the side of her bed that monitored her contractions. The screen showed her contractions as hills and as far as I could tell the hills were getting taller and wider. I’d watched the screen enough to understand that meant her contractions were getting stronger and lasting longer, and for that reason I was glad she was still asleep.

  Ella was, by far and away, the strongest woman I had ever met, but it was agonizing to watch her suffer through labor. For nine months she’d spoken about trying to have a natural birth. I have no doubt she very well could have made it—she’s stubborn enough—but I wanted her to give herself a break, to not push herself so hard that in the end she was worse off than when she started.

  The hills were getting bigger and wider still and with every contraction my eyes darted back and forth between the screen and Ella, watching to see if she was uncomfortable at all. She slept through every single one, not looking like she was affected at all. Modern medicine really was astounding. To my left, through the wall, I heard the distinct sound of a baby crying. The cry was gurgled and frantic. It sounded new. I felt a little uncomfortable hearing someone else’s baby’s first cry—like I’d stolen something from them. But then I smiled to myself thinking that if I could hear that baby’s cry then the parents were also hearing their baby’s first cry. Excitement washed over me, looking forward to sharing that moment with Ella, hoping someone in the rooms next to us might use our special moment as motivation.

  I finally allowed my eyes to close, trying to have faith in the fact that Ella was asleep and not in any pain. My hand was clasped around hers and I pulled her it close to me as I laid my head on the bed next to her. I tried to keep my mind from wandering to the last time I was in this exact same position and instead, focused on trying to imagine what our baby would look like. I fell asleep to the image of a beautiful baby with pink skin and blue eyes, just like her mother.

  I awoke to the sound of the door to the hospital room opening. My head shot up and I saw a nurse walking through the darkened room, making her way towards Ella. She gave me a silent smile and proceeded to the print-out of all the hills that made up Ella’s labor. I looked at the clock and noticed that two more hours had passed. I look back to the nurse who is making marks on the paper with a pen.

  “Is everything all right?” I whispered to her. She looked over at me and smiled again.

  “Everything looks very normal and healthy. I’m going to ask the doctor to come check her progress in a few minutes.”

  “Is it ok that she’s been asleep this whole time? I mean, she’s not in any danger, is she?” Even though I was glad she wasn’t feeling any pain, it was a little unnerving that she could sleep through all her contractions.

  The nurse gave me a sweet smile. “The epidural blocks the nerves that send pain signals to the brain. She can’t feel anything below her chest. So, she’s sleeping as if she’s in no pain, because she isn’t. It’s perfectly normal and actually beneficial that she’s asleep right now. She’ll need all the energy in the world when she’s pushing and after the baby is born.” Her whispered response goes a long way to ease my worries and I thanked her softly before she left the room.

  I laid my head back down, but just as I felt myself drifting off the door opened and the lights came on. I saw Dr. Bronson enter the room and she gave me a comforting smile.

  “Hello, Porter. How’s Ella doing?” I stood and looked to Ella, who still slept, and back to the doctor.

  “She’s doing well, I suppose. The woman could sleep through an earthquake at this point,” I laughed.

  “Well, I hate to wake her, but her chart indicates she might be close to pushing, so I want to check her.”

  I nodded and then leaned down to her ear. “Ella, Baby, wake up.” I brushed the back of my hand down her cheek, trying to rouse her. “Sweetheart, wake up.” I pushed her hair off her forehead. I saw her eyes start to move beneath her lids and she took a deeper breath. I smiled, watching her come back from sleep, like a princess in a fairy tale. I couldn’t help myself so I leaned down and placed a chaste kiss against her lips and I felt her smile against me. I pulled away and saw the bluest eyes in the world staring back at me.

  “Hi,” she whispered.

  “Hi, back. How are you feeling?”

  “Good.”

  “Good.” She smiled at my response.

  “Good morning, Ella,” The doctor said from across the room as she washed her hands. Ella’s head whipped around to look at her and then she smiled again.

  “Hi. I didn’t even see you there.”

  “Well,” the doctor said with a playful lilt to her voice, “I’d be distracted if I woke up to that too.”

  I blushed.

  “He can be very distracting,” Ella said as she patted my hand.

  “Good. You’re going to need some distraction because I need to check your progress.” Dr. Bronson moved to the side of her bed and lifted up her blanket, exposing her legs. “I’m going to help you move your legs because I know you probably can’t right now.” I watched as Ella’s face strained a little and then she laughed.

  “I can’t move them at all.”

  “That’s good,” the doctor said. “That means the medicine is doing its job.” She pushed both of Ella’s feet up towards the rest of her body and then gently placed her knees to the side. I winced because it looked a little uncomfortable. “I have to warn you though, Ella,” she said as she started to examine her. “In order for you to push, we’ll have to lower the dosage. We don’t want you to be in too much pain, but you have to be able to feel at least a little in order to push effectively.” The doctor’s eyebrows furrowed a little and she sat back on the bed, finished with her examination. “And it looks like the time is now. You’re fully dilated. Are you ready to push?”

  My heart skipped at the doctors words and excitement rushed through my body. I looked to Ella to see the excitement on her face but was confused when I saw she started crying.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked her, confused in her sudden change in emotion.

  She looked up at me with tears welled in her eyes. “I don’t know,” she cried, the tears falling from her eyes. “I’m a little scared, I guess.”

  I kissed her brow. “Everything’s going to be ok. I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

  “What if I can’t do it? What if something bad happens?” She sniffled and wiped away the tears from her cheeks. “The baby has been safe in there for nine months, what if something goes wrong?”

  “Ella,” Dr. Bronson’s voice rang out and we both looked to her. “It is normal to be apprehensive about giving birth, especially if you’ve never done it before.” She gave Ella a supportive smile. “Your baby is ready to be born. They want to meet you and you’ll do great. Next to your husband, I too, will be here the whole time.” She patted Ella’s leg and tilted her head, waiting for her response. I never asked her before if she has her own children, but I’m sure she does. Or she had the best bedside manner I’ve ever encountered. Either way, I just gained a new appreciation for her.

  Ella wiped her tears again and then sat up a little straighter. “Ok, I can do this.” She took in a deep breath as if she was readying herself for battle.

  “Good girl,” I said, wiping away the last of her tears.

  “Ok,” Dr. Bronson said, clapping her hands together. “Showtime!”

  The next few minutes were a flurry of activity. People entered the room with a lot of equipment and something that resembled a little crib on wheels. The bed folded down and transfor
med to allow the doctor to get even closer to Ella and I laughed because all I could think about was how I wanted to call the bed Optimus Prime now that I knew about its transforming capabilities. Ella looked at me funny when I laughed, wanting in on the joke.

  “Later,” I told her. Now was not the time to tell her I’m thinking about cartoons from the eighties as she’s about to start giving birth to our first child. “I’m going to give an update to our parents.” She nodded.

  “Hurry back,” she said, and then she winked at me. Even in this moment, when I knew she was scared and nervous, she could still make my blood run hot. I shook my head at her and made my way to the waiting room. Sometime last night, I couldn’t really remember when, I called our parents and let them know Ella went into labor and they all insisted on coming to the hospital. Ella and I both appreciated their support, and also appreciated that they all understood that Ella and I wanted privacy during the birth. Both our moms were very understanding, even though I knew either one of them would give anything to be in there when the baby was born.

  When I made it back into the room, even more people were there. All of them seemed focused on the jobs they were performing. I went back to my side of her bed and gripped her hand, kissing her forehead.

  “Both our moms give their love. And your dad said, and I quote, “Go get ’em.”” Ella laughed, which was the best sound I’d heard all morning.

  “Ok, Ella, we’re going to do a few practice pushes.” Dr. Bronson was literally right up in Ella’s business. I imagined Ella would be a little uncomfortable with the doctor’s proximity, but she seemed unfazed. “Your epidural should be wearing off a little making it easier for you to feel the contractions, but until then you can look at that screen. When the line starts to move up, you’re having a contraction. You need to pull your knees to the side and up towards your head. Then you need to push. Porter will count to ten and then you can rest, ok?” Ella nodded and looked at me with worried eyes. I smiled at her.