Page 46

Author: Robyn Carr


He lifted his head in time to see the cord had been cut, and the baby was placed on the mother’s stomach when this horrible-looking thing he knew to be a placenta came bubbling out. He thought, I’m gonna die. Right here, right now.


Vanessa made a terrible sound and he thought, see! She can’t take it, either! But when he looked at her, he realized that wasn’t the problem. With one hand on her big belly and a grimace on her face, she looked as if they were headed far too rapidly for real life.


“Oh-oh,” he said.


“Yeah,” she said. “Shew. It’s okay—we have plenty of time. We can watch the movie again and again, if you need to.”


“No,” he said sternly. “I am never watching that movie again!”


“Then you’re good to go?” she asked.


“I wouldn’t say so, no.”


“Okay,” she said, clearly ignoring him. “I think you should go take a shower. Clean up. I’ve been in labor all day, but the contractions are getting serious now and I’m going to call Mel to touch base.”


“Are you fucking kidding me?”


“We’re gonna do it, Paul. I know you won’t let me down.”


“I bet I will,” he said. “If I manage to stay upright through something like that, it’ll be a miracle. I’m talking miracle!”


“I need you,” she said. “If Matt can’t be here with me, I need you to be here with me. Please?”


Oh, goddamn it, he thought. She’s playing the Matt card.


“Please?”


“Vanni, I’d do anything for you, honey. But this is a mistake. A mistake.”


And she said, “Ohhhhh,” while she held her belly. He stared at her with wide, horrified eyes while she tried to get through the contraction.


So that’s what he’d seen on her face when he walked in the door. She was now having her baby and everything else was on the back burner. She was focused, like a mother wolf protecting her pup—not a grieving widow, but a mother. And she meant business. It amazed him how something like that kicked in. When the contraction passed she looked at him with clear but fierce aquamarine eyes and said, “Shower.” Then she stood, holding her belly underneath, and went to the phone.


Paul went to his room, gathered clean clothes and headed down the hall to the shower. He made it quick, but clean. He shaved. Then he thought, I am shaving—why? To be smooth cheeked when I pass out? By the time he was coming out with his dirty clothes to take back to his room, he heard voices. Male voices down the hall and female voices in Vanni’s room. And laughter—as if there was anything to laugh about!


He headed down the hall where there were men, where there would be someone sympathetic who could get him out of this. There he found Jack with David on his hip, Walt and Tommy. “Hey, there,” Jack said. “How you doing?”


Paul got right up close to Jack. “Listen, Jack, you have no idea what she wants me to do,” he said under his breath.


“Yeah, I do. She told everyone. Mel will be right out to get you as soon as Vanni’s settled.”


“You’d be better at this than me,” he said.


“Yeah, I probably would.” Jack grinned. “But I wasn’t asked.”


“I can’t do this,” he whispered.


Jack clamped a hand on his back. “Sure you can. You’ll be fine. Count your lucky stars—at least you have a midwife in there with you.” Jack smiled. “It’ll be a good experience for you.”


“I’m sure you’re wrong about that.”


“Paul!” Mel called. “We’re ready for you.”


“Aw, Jesus.”


Jack leaned toward him. “Man-up, pal. Or they’ll never let you hear the end of it.”


Reluctantly Paul went down the hall. Mel, grinning very happily, met him outside Vanni’s bedroom door. “How we doing?” she asked.


“Not so good, Mel. I’m pretty sure I’m not up to this. I’m very inexperienced.”


“All right, Paul, don’t worry. It’s going to be a while before the baby comes, and right now all Vanni really needs is someone to rub her back, help her remember to breathe through the contractions, maybe give her a damp cloth for her forehead, or the back of the neck really helps sometimes. That’s all.”


“I can do that part.”


“That’s good. If you can’t go the distance, that’s okay. Just get us that far, okay?”


“I’ll do what I can,” he said. When he got into the room he was very relieved to see Vanni, clothed in a gown that didn’t reveal anything, sitting up in the bed, cross-legged, smiling. So he smiled back. “How are you feeling?”


“Fine at the moment, thanks.”


“Vanni, you should have told me this was what you wanted a long time ago. I’m totally unprepared to do this.”


“Don’t worry, Paul. You’ll be fine.”


“Probably not. I probably won’t be—”


He stopped talking as he noticed he didn’t have her attention anymore. She was looking off into the distance, running her hands in circles over her belly, breathing in with slow exhales. And after just a moment of that, her face contorted and the breathing came faster, harder. Then there was some groaning as the pain seized her. As the crescendo was reached, it began to subside, back to the slow exhales and circular hand movements, then eventually it went away and she looked back up at him and smiled.


Mel came back into the room carrying towels. “How’s the back?”


She put a hand to her lower back and said, “Lots of pressure there, but it’s okay.”


“Here,” Paul said. “Try to lean forward a little.” He pressed his fingertips against the small of her back. “Does that help?”


“Oh, that’s good. Very good.” He moved his hands around the small of her back, then up to her shoulders, massaging them. “Oh, that’s lovely,” she murmured.


Mel stayed busy in the room, laying things out—instruments, blankets, gloves, basin. While Vanni went into and through another contraction, Mel simply organized her supplies, leaving Vanni’s contraction to Paul. When Vanni couldn’t lean forward during the contraction, when it pushed her back against the pillows, Paul just concentrated on massaging her shoulders and upper arms and neck. He found himself saying, “Relax and breathe, Vanni—in and out slowly. Good, good. How’s that?”


“Uh,” she said. “Uh, uh, uh! Ohhhhh.”


“Mel?” he asked.


“Yes, Paul?”


“Can’t you give her something?”


“No, Paul. She’s doing great.” Mel looked at her watch. “They’re coming closer.” When the contraction passed she said, “Let’s get you up, Vanni. Stand up for me—get a little help from gravity. Paul, let’s get her up.”


Vanni swung her legs over the side and with Paul’s assistance she stood up. When the next contraction came, she had to sit on the edge of the bed, which made it a little easier for Paul to rub her back. Mel slipped out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her. As the contraction passed, Paul urged her to stand again and they did that for a little while, up and down, up and down. And then, just as Mel entered the room again, Vanni let go with a great groan and her water broke, running in a huge gush to the floor. It splashed on Paul’s shoes and soaked the carpet.


“Well, that’s a good sign. Here, let me spread out a couple of towels and I’ll check you, see how we’re doing. By the way, a birthing party has begun out there.”


“Really?” Vanni said. Then she groaned and bent over, panting.


“I’m sure it was completely unplanned, but when Jack leaked it that you were in labor, Preacher and Paige came out—Christopher is watching a video, but he’s falling asleep on the couch. Mike and Brie are here, whipping up some snacks in the kitchen, keeping your dad and Tommy company. Jack’s giving David his evening bottle, and…” She stopped talking as she helped Vanni back onto the bed. Vanni’s knees came up, Mel pulled the gloves on and with one hand on her belly and the other disappearing between her legs, Mel said, “Well, now. Vanessa, you ought to do this for a living. You’re making great progress. Stay like that if you can—on your next contraction, I want to see if I can spread you a little bit.” She looked up over her belly. “Grab Paul’s hand and breathe—it isn’t going to feel good, but it might give us faster results.”


Paul got down on one knee at the side of the bed and held her hand, looking into her eyes. “You doing okay?” he asked softly.


“I’m working very hard,” she said, breathless.


“I know. God, Vanni—I wish there was more I could do.”


“You’re doing so much, Paul. Oh! Here we go! Ughhhh.”


“Good girl,” Mel said. “Very good. Very good.” One gloved hand rested on her belly, the other disappeared again between her legs. “Pant,” Mel said.


Vanni panted, but then inevitably she whimpered from the pain and Paul instinctively put his lips against her forehead and held on.


“Okay, Vanessa,” Mel said, pulling out her hand. “You’re almost ready to start pushing.” She snapped off her gloves.


Paul noticed that when Mel withdrew her hand, there was blood on the glove. “Is that all right?” he asked. He gave a nod toward the glove.


“Perfectly normal,” she said. “We’ll be seeing a little more of that. You hanging in there?”


“Yeah,” he said. And then he thought, I’ve been tricked pretty good. Like I could leave her now. “Fine,” he said. “I’m going to get a damp cloth, Vanni. Be right back.”


He went across the hall to the bathroom and first splashed cold water on his own face, then wet and squeezed out a face-cloth and hurried back to her. It was a done deal—he was in now. He glanced at his watch and was amazed to see that three hours had passed since he’d come off the job site. He heard the sound of the TV droning down the hall and laughter from the kitchen. Soft, polite laughter.


When he got back he noticed that Vanni was showing the effects of hard labor—her skin was glistening with sweat, her hair was damp and limp, her face looked twisted with the pain. He knelt again; Mel had spread some towels on the damp carpet, but the knees of his trousers were already wet. He didn’t care. He mopped her brow and held her hand through a few more contractions and then Mel gave the signal.


“Okay, Vanni—we’re going to do it. If you feel the urge, push on the next one.”


“Thank God,” she said weakly.


“Paul, I want you to support her from behind, help raise her up a bit. Vanni, you know what to do.”


Paul started to lift her and Vanessa said, “Not yet.” Then in a moment she was lifted off the bed in a horrendous urge to bear down and, remarkably, he didn’t have to be told it was time. He braced her from behind while she gave a huge grunt and strained, holding her breath, pushing for all she was worth. When she collapsed against the bed he asked, “Is he out?”


“Nah. It’s going to take a while.”


“But on that movie…?”


“That wasn’t a first baby,” Mel said. “He came out way too easily. First babies take time.”


“How much time?”


“However much they want.” Mel put her fetoscope in her ears, flipped Vanni’s gown up over her belly and listened. She pulled the gown back down and said, “He’s a strong one. He’s going to keep you up nights.”


Paul did his job—brow mopping, hand-holding, encouraging, supporting. It went on for almost an hour and he watched as Vanni got more and more tired and Mel stayed busy getting ready to catch that baby. While Paul supported Vanni he heard Mel say, “Hold it a little longer…right where you feel the pressure…. Okay, take a breath and push again…. Way to go!” Mel spread out the baby towel on the bed, brought her clamps, suction, scissors to the bed. Finally she said, “I think we’re going to hit pay dirt on this next one, Vanni. Make it a good one.”