A Story Like Ours

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A Story Like Ours Page 28

by Robin Huber


  I nod and give a strained thumbs-up.

  “Okay, Lucy, I need you to sit up and let your legs hang over the side of the bed.”

  I inhale a deep breath and blow it out slowly, then I sit up and scoot to the edge of the bed. “Like this?” I ask, dangling my feet over the side.

  “Yes, but…” He looks at Sebastian and asks, “Do you get light-headed easily?”

  “Oh, um, no.” He shakes his head and gives me a curious look.

  “Okay, I need you to come stand in front of her,” he says, positioning Sebastian in front of me. “Lucy, I’m going to move you to get you in the right position, but then I don’t want you to move. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He puts his hands on my back and bends me over my knees, squishing my stomach against my legs. “Keep your head down” he says, running his latex-covered finger down my spine, and I do as I’m told. “Keep her in this position,” he says to Sebastian. “No matter what. Do not let her move.”

  “Okay,” Sebastian says, and I hear the concern in his voice.

  “Lucy, you cannot try to sit up. Understand?”

  “What happens if she sits up?” Bas asks.

  “She’s not going to. Right, Lucy?”

  “Right.” I hold my breath through the sharp pinch I feel in my back. “I’m having another contraction,” I groan, unable to breathe in this position.

  “I know,” he says calmly. “But it should be the last one you feel. Just don’t move.” A rush of cool burns beneath my skin. “Almost done.”

  “You’re doing great,” Sebastian says, smiling at me, but his face is a shade lighter than normal.

  “Okay, you can sit up.”

  “You’re done?” I ask, lifting my head tentatively.

  “Yep. You should feel better in a few minutes.”

  “Thank God,” Sebastian says quietly, letting go of me. He turns around and inhales a deep breath.

  “You okay?” I ask him.

  He turns back around and pulls his fist to his mouth. “Mm-hmm.” He nods. “I’m great,” he whispers.

  “Okay, well, can you come back?” I ask, noticing that my legs suddenly feel like there are cement blocks tied to them.

  He raises his eyebrows and approaches me with caution.

  “I can’t move my legs,” I tell him.

  “That’s the idea,” the anesthesiologist says. “You won’t feel anything from about your chest down.”

  “Really?”

  “Look,” he says, pointing to the monitor beside the bed. “You’re having a contraction right now.”

  “I can’t feel it.”

  “At all?” Bas asks.

  “No, not at all.” A huge smile spreads across my face.

  “Oh, thank God,” he says, sitting on the bed beside me. He falls back against it dramatically. “I don’t know how much more I could have taken.”

  I laugh and try unsuccessfully to move back on the bed. “Could you help me?”

  He sits up and helps me scoot back against the pillows. “Seriously, I’m going to kill Sam.”

  “Sebastian.”

  “Actually, I’m going to kill your doctor for telling him it was okay to leave. And then I’m going to kill Sam.”

  “It’s not Dr. Fletcher’s fault.” I watch the contraction on the monitor and exhale a joyful breath. “It’s nobody’s fault,” I say, momentarily blissed out.

  “Okay, Lucy, why don’t you try to get some rest now,” the anesthesiologist says. “It won’t be long before you have to push.”

  Push? I can’t push until Sam gets here.

  Sebastian tries to hide the worried look on his face. “He’s right. You should just try to get some sleep.”

  * * *

  I wake to a dimly lit room and Sebastian, whose face is glowing in the light of his phone. “Any word from Sam?” I ask him, trying to sit up.

  He gets up from the couch across the room and pulls a chair up next to the bed. “No, not yet.”

  “What time is it?”

  “It’s late. You’ve been asleep for an hour.”

  “Really?” I ask, thankful that more time has passed.

  “Nurse Meghan was in here a few minutes ago, but she didn’t want to wake you. She said you’ll need your strength to push.”

  “Well…” I exhale a determined breath. “I’m not doing that without Sam.”

  He presses his lips together and says, “Just try to get some more sleep.”

  “I’m not tired now. I just wish Sam would get here.”

  “I know.” He puts his hand on mine and gives it a small squeeze. “Me too.”

  “Did you sleep at all?” I ask him.

  “Yes. No. Not really,” he admits. “I was updating Paul in the waiting room.”

  “Paul’s here?”

  “Of course. He came as soon as he got my message.”

  I exhale a heavy breath and drop my head back against the pillows. “I’m sorry you had to fill in for Sam tonight. But I’m really glad you’re here.”

  He gives me a tired smile and sighs. “This isn’t exactly how I saw your birth story going, but I’m glad I’m here too.” He glances up at the screen that’s monitoring my contractions. “Woah, that one’s off the charts. You can’t feel it?”

  “Nope,” I say, shaking my head. “I just feel the pressure.” I look down at my contracting stomach and take a deep breath. “A lot of pressure.”

  “You thirsty? I can offer you ice chips or”—he shakes the cup—“ice chips.”

  I laugh and reach for the cup, but when he hands it to me, I freeze. “I have to get up,” I say, giving it back to him.

  “What?”

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” I say again, unable to ignore the overwhelming urge. I put my hand on Sebastian’s arm and try to scoot to the edge of the bed.

  “Lucy, you can’t get up,” he says, reminding me that my legs are no longer connected to my brain.

  “I have to. You have to help me.”

  “Hold on!” He runs to the door and calls down the hall for the nurse.

  Oh, God. I can’t stop it. I push into the sensation.

  “Lucy? What are you doing? Are you pushing?”

  “No,” I say, trying to stop. But. I. Cant. Stop. Pushing.

  “Stop!” he orders. “Don’t push. I’ve got to get the nurse.”

  “I can’t,” I grit through my teeth.

  “Lucy, what’s going on?”

  “She’s pushing!” Sebastian exclaims.

  “Okay, I’ll go get Dr. Fletcher.”

  The sensation leaves me as quickly as it came, and I gasp for air. “You have to stay in there,” I cry to the baby. “Please. Just a little longer. Your dad will be here any minute,” I say, trying to convince myself.

  “Where’s my favorite patient?” Dr. Fletcher asks, walking into the room a few seconds later.

  I burst into tears as soon as I look at him. “You’re here.”

  He walks over to me and reaches for my hand. “I’m so sorry, Lucy. I never would have encouraged Sam to go to New York if I thought you’d be going into labor so soon.”

  “I know…it’s okay.” I smile over the tears and worry. “He won.”

  “I know.” He gives me a small smile and pats the back of my hand. “How are you holding up?”

  “Okay,” I lie.

  “Well, let’s take a look and see what’s happening.”

  “I don’t want to push until Sam gets here.” I groan as the urge comes back with no way for me to ignore it. “How. Do. I. Stop?”

  “You can’t, Lucy. You have to do what your body’s telling you to do.”

  “No.” I shake my head and tears run down my cheeks. “She can’t come until Sam gets here.” I drop my head back against the pillow and try to fight it, but it’s a losing battle.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Sebastian says, holding my hand while Dr. Fletcher examines me, but I see the worry in his eyes too.

  “Ok
ay, Lucy, push against my hand.” I do, but not by choice. “I can see the top of the baby’s head,” he says. “You’re fully dilated.”

  I exhale as the urge leaves me again. “You can see her?”

  “Yep.” He smiles. “She’s got a head full of hair.”

  “She does?” I cry, conflicted with feelings of awe and angst.

  Sebastian pulls his hand to his mouth and his eyes mist over.

  Dr. Fletcher looks at me and says, “Lucy, I know you want to wait for Sam to get here. I want him here too. But your baby is ready now. She’s not going to wait. I need you to help me deliver her, okay? I can’t do it on my own, unless it’s in the OR, and I know you don’t want that.”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Okay then. Every time you have a contraction, you’re going to feel the urge to push. I need you to listen to your body and push into that feeling.”

  “Okay,” I cry, nodding over the tears that keep rolling down my cheeks.

  “You can do this, Lucy,” Sebastian says, squeezing my hand.

  * * *

  “Lucy, here comes another contraction, it’s time to push again,” Meghan says, but I can barely lift my head.

  “I can’t, I’m too tired.” I shake my head and cry, “I can’t push anymore.”

  “Yes you can,” Sebastian says, putting his hand behind my neck. “Come on.” He lifts my head and helps me curl my shoulders forward.

  “You can do it, Lucy, just a little more,” Sarah encourages.

  I close my eyes, squeeze every muscle in my body, and push as hard as I can.

  “Push, Lucy, push!” Sebastian and Meghan say in unison.

  “I’m pushing!”

  “You have to push harder, Lucy,” Dr. Fletcher says, looking up at me. “I need your help, remember?”

  “I can’t,” I cry, falling back against the pillows. “I can’t do it anymore.” Tears leak from my eyes, dampening the strands of hair that are sticking to my sweat-sheened face. “I need Sam. I can’t do this without him. I don’t want to do this without him,” I say to Sebastian.

  “Lucy, listen to me,” Dr. Fletcher says, sounding unusually firm. “You’re having very strong contractions and you’ve been pushing for over an hour. If the baby’s heart rate keeps dropping, I’m going to have to do an emergency C-section. I don’t know how much more she can take.”

  “What? No.” I cry harder.

  “I know that’s not what you want, but if you don’t deliver soon, I won’t have a choice.”

  “Look at me,” Sebastian says, squeezing my hand tight. “I know you need Sam right now. I know you don’t want to do this without him. I don’t want that either. But what we want doesn’t matter right now. The only thing that matters is getting the baby out safely.”

  “I need you to give me just a few more pushes, Lucy,” Dr. Fletcher says. “But they have to be strong.”

  Sebastian looks at me and says, “Be strong for her, Lucy. You can do this.”

  I nod my tired head and close my eyes, anticipating the next contraction. I can do this. I inhale a deep breath and blow it out slowly.

  “Lucy!”

  I open my eyes and see Sam rushing over to me. “Sam!” I cry, feeling my overworked heart beat faster inside my chest. I look up at his weary face through my watery eyes. “You made it.”

  He reaches for my face and kisses me. “I’m sorry,” he kisses me again, “I’m so sorry. I tried to call when we landed.”

  “Poor cell service,” Sebastian says, with a look of exasperation and relief.

  “It’s okay.” I laugh through the tears that are running down my cheeks.

  “I love you,” Sam says, kissing me again.

  “I love you too,” I cry with relief as the cloud of worry and sorrow vanishes.

  “I thought I was going to miss it.”

  “You almost did,” Dr. Fletcher says, giving him a tentative smile. “I just need Lucy to give me a couple of strong pushes.”

  Sam quickly assesses me. “Are you okay? Are you in a lot of pain?”

  “She got an epidural,” Sebastian answers. “But she’s been pushing for over an hour. She’s exhausted.”

  “Okay, Lucy, it’s time to push again,” Meghan says from the other side of the bed.

  “Make this one count,” Dr. Fletcher says.

  “Okay.” I lift my head and push into the contraction that’s squeezing me—and the baby, I’m reminded.

  “Hold her shoulders,” Sebastian says to Sam.

  “Like this?” The feeling of Sam’s familiar hands on my back gives me a renewed energy, and I push harder.

  “Good,” Dr. Fletcher encourages. “Keep pushing.”

  “I’ll be right outside,” I hear Bas say through the pulsing in my ears.

  “No,” I grit through my teeth.

  “Lucy, focus,” Dr. Fletcher says.

  “Keep pushing, baby,” Sam says softly, and I push harder.

  “Good,” Dr. Fletcher says again. “Just like that.”

  I exhale and fall back against the pillow. “I need a break,” I pant, feeling the pressure of the contraction leave me.

  “Okay, but I want another push like that with the next contraction.”

  I nod at Dr. Fletcher. “Okay.”

  “You’re doing so good,” Sam says, pushing my hair off my face.

  I look over at Sebastian, who’s standing near the door. “Hey,” I call to him, stretching my arm out.

  He walks back over to me and takes my hand, and I give him a conflicted look. He smiles softly and says, “This is your time…for you and Sam.” He squeezes my hand. “I won’t be far.”

  “Thank you,” I say, giving him a weak smile.

  “Anytime.”

  Sam puts his hand on Bas’s shoulder. “Thank you, Sebastian. For everything. I don’t know what we…what I would have done if you weren’t here.”

  “My pleasure,” he says, giving me a sincere look. “Oh, and Sam?” he says, before leaving. “Congratulations on the win.”

  “Thanks.” Sam smiles, but gives me a remorseful look.

  “I’m so proud of you,” I say, squeezing his hand, but another contraction forces me to start pushing again. I lean forward and Sam puts his hands behind my shoulders again, pushing me forward. I squeeze every muscle in my body, groaning through my clenched teeth.

  “Okay, Lucy, the baby’s crowning,” Dr. Fletcher says, and my heart beats faster.

  I feel Sam leaning over me to look, and as much as I want to yank him back and tell him no, I can’t. Especially not when I hear him say, “Oh, my God, she has hair.” The awe and emotion in his voice dissolves every trivial concern I had.

  “Keep pushing,” Dr. Fletcher says. “Don’t stop.”

  Sam drops his head to mine. “We’re about to be a family.”

  “Push, Lucy, keep pushing!” Meghan shouts, and I curl my shoulders into the contraction.

  “Okay, Lucy, here she comes.”

  “Keep pushing, baby, keep pushing,” Sam says, squeezing my hand, and I search for the last ounce of strength inside me. I push as hard as I can…and then everything slows to a quiet still around me.

  My heart pounds inside my chest, echoing in my ears as I watch Dr. Fletcher work in slow motion. I look up at Sam, whose eyes fill with tears that spill down his cheeks, and the world disappears.

  I look at the tiny pink baby in Dr. Fletcher’s hands, holding my breath, afraid that if I exhale, I may never be able to inhale again. My head spins and I close my eyes, but when I open them again, the world rushes back to me with the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.

  My baby crying.

  I let out a joyful sob and Sam drops his forehead to mine. “She’s okay?” I ask Dr. Fletcher, who lays her on my chest.

  “Yes, you have a healthy baby girl,” he says, smiling. “She just needed a little help getting the fluid out of her lungs.”

  I look down at the tiny pink screaming creature on my chest and
put my hands on her warm back. “I love her already,” I say to Sam, awed by the quickness in which my heart has grown to make room for her.

  He puts his hand over mine and kisses her forehead. “Because she’s perfect.”

  “Shhh…” I say against her head, kissing it softly. “Don’t cry, baby.” I rub her back and her puffy eyes peek open at Sam. She goes quiet and gazes at him, blinking a few times.

  He smiles and cups her tiny head in his hand. “Hi, little lamb,” he says to her, and new tears fill my eyes.

  “I need to take her for just a minute,” Sarah says, scooping her off my chest too soon.

  Sam follows her to the warming table and watches her take the baby’s measurements. “Six pounds, seven ounces,” she reports, and I smile at Sam. He puts his finger in her little hand and my heart swells when she curls her tiny fingers around it. Sarah cleans her up and wraps her up like a burrito before handing her to Sam, and for a moment everyone else in the room disappears. All I see is Sam, holding our baby in his arms, gazing at her with a look of love and wonderment. He kisses her forehead and bounces her softly as he carries her over to me.

  He places her in my arms and sits on the bed beside me.

  “What are you going to name her?” Meghan asks, adjusting the pillows behind me.

  I look at the little burrito in my arms and smile softly. “Josephine,” I say to Sam, who gives me a small, surprised smile. “After her grandpa Joe.”

  He rubs his hand over his mouth and nods, but doesn’t say anything.

  “I like that,” Meghan says. “She looks like a Joey.”

  I reach for Sam’s hand and he says huskily, “He would have really loved her.”

  I blink back new tears. “Yeah.” I touch her velvety cheek and run my hand over her soft caramel brown hair. “Joey,” I say softly.

  Chapter 25

  Lucy

  I open my eyes to the afternoon light that fills my hospital room and carefully roll over in my bed, thankful that I can feel my legs again. I look at Joey’s bassinet, but it’s empty.

  “Hey,” Sam says quietly, smiling at me from the chair across the room. His feet are propped up, and the baby is curled up on his chest, asleep.

  I smile and try to sit up a little. “You look comfortable.”

 

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