Baseball Bride

by Penny Wylder

  The pain subsides and I’m able to relax again. “Yeah, I’m good, it’s passed.”

  “Is this your first?” Kim asks, and we both nod at the same time. “When I had my daughter, I was in labor for twenty hours. It was horrid.”

  The woman beside her slaps her arm. “Kim, you’re scaring her.”

  Kim shoots her a look and shrugs a shoulder. “What? I’m just being honest.”

  Giggling, I flail a loose hand. “It’s fine, I’m ready. Honestly, I’m very ready for this baby to come out; it’s been long enough. I want my body back.”

  The women all laugh and as I laugh with them, another stabbing pain slices through my stomach.

  “Ah,” I say, sucking in a quick breath and holding it in. “Jesus.” I exhale as I grip the arm of the chair and squeeze Ryon’s hand.

  “Did it just happen again?” Ryon asks.

  Nodding, I push myself up from the seat. “I think I want to walk around a little.” Standing up, I feel a warm wetness start to trickle down my thighs. “I think my water just broke,” I say, darting my eyes to Ryon.

  “Your water broke?” Jumping from his seat, he steps toward me, then sits back down, then stands again. Running his hands down his face, he starts to look around nervously. “Okay, all right, so your water broke.” He paces back and forth, with no real direction.

  “Ryon, now isn’t the time to panic. Everything is fine.”

  “I’m not worried. Do I look worried?” He takes out his phone and starts to tap the screen.

  “What are you doing now?”

  “I’m searching for how to deliver a baby.”

  “All right, come on now. This baby isn’t getting delivered by Google.” Kim looks over at the other ladies. “Beth, can you go grab some clean towels from the locker room? Shannon, can you go find the medics and see if they have the ambulance here too.” The women disappear, and Kim takes me by the elbow, leading me back to my seat.

  “Thank you,” I say, slowly sitting down. “Ryon isn’t usually so. . .” Pausing, I look over at him as he studies the screen of his phone. Wiggling my fingers in his direction, I smile. “Like this.”

  Kim giggles as she checks the time on her phone. “Hey, it’s the least I can do. Tell me when you feel a contraction so we can time them and see how far apart they are.”

  “Sure, I can do that. I feel fine right—” Fire explodes in my gut, and my eyes snap shut as I groan. “Now, it’s happening now.”

  She looks at the time again, then back up to me. “Tell me when it stops. This way we can keep track of how long they’re lasting for too.”

  My face crinkles as the cramping sensation renders me paralyzed. I can’t move, I can’t breathe, I can’t think. I can’t do anything but bear through this pain. I’ve never felt anything like it.

  “Ryon, put down your phone and come help your wife.” Kim directs him, and to my surprise, he listens.

  He needs this. He needs firm, concrete directions because he can’t think for himself right now. Setting his hand on my back, he massages me up and down in long strokes. It feels good, helping to settle the tension in my muscles.

  “It’s fading.”

  “Okay, good.” She glances at the door, then back to me. “Did you take any birthing classes?”

  “Yeah, but what they explained and what I’m feeling are two different things. Another one is coming,” I say as I keel over, clutching my belly.

  Kim’s eyes drop to her phone, timing my contraction. I groan as this one is more intense than the last. Each contraction feels like my entire body is being torn apart. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

  Letting out a long, slow breath, I drop my head into my chest. “Okay, it’s going away.

  “Thirty seconds.” Kim smiles as she takes my hand and squeezes. “Looks like you two are having a baby today.”

  “We’re having a baby,” Ryon repeats, and his face twists with panic. “Oh my God, Gil, we’re having a baby today.”

  The other women return with the field medic and towels. The medic quickly takes over, wrapping my arm in a blood pressure cuff and asking questions.

  Kim lets him know my contractions are three minutes apart and lasting about thirty seconds at a time. The medic asks me if I think I can walk down to the ambulance or if I want a stretcher.

  “I can walk,” I say, standing up on shaky legs.

  “All right, let’s get you to the hospital.” The medic and Ryon walk at my side, keeping my pace.

  “Here comes another one,” I say, grabbing the rail on the stairs and squatting down as the contraction tears through me like a tractor trailer truck.

  “You sure you don’t want a stretcher?” Ryon asks, dropping to my side and running his fingers through my hair.

  “No, I’m fine, I can walk.” Reaching out my hand for him to take, he helps me to my feet. “Okay, I’m good. Let’s keep moving.”

  The ambulance is parked right outside the exit, ready for me. Ryon and I climb inside and I lay on the stretcher. The medic climbs in with us. He hooks me up to a heart monitor and calls ahead to the hospital to let them know we are on our way.

  Ryon looks terrified, so I reach out and take his hand. He tries to smile, and I know he wants to be strong, but I can see how scared he is.

  We’re about to have a child, we’re bringing a baby into this world, and while the thought is exciting, it also fills me with such fear.

  Will I be a good mother? Will we be able to balance life and this baby?

  “We’re doing this,” Ryon says, tangling his fingers into mine and holding it with his other hand. “We’re really doing this.”

  Nodding, tears start to fill my eyes. “I love you,” I say, my voice scratchy. “And I can’t wait to meet our baby.”

  “Me too.”

  The ambulance comes to a stop and the doors open. I’m quickly wheeled into the hospital and up to the maternity ward. The contractions are so frequent now it’s like one never ending cramp.

  Everything is happening so fast. My legs are up, the nurses and the doctor are all yelling for me to push. Ryon is pale white, sweat is beading up across his forehead and his breathing is picking up.

  He’s brushing my hair with his fingers and trying to keep calm. “You got this, babe. Come on, push,” he urges.

  “I can’t.” I’m exhausted, I have no energy left. My entire body feels weak and frail as the contractions steal every bit of strength I have. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry,” I say through tears.

  “Yes you can, you can do this. You’re the strongest person I know. Just a few more minutes and we’re going to meet our baby.” Something comes over Ryon, and all of a sudden I’m not looking at Ryon, the nervous expectant father, but Ryon, the hotshot pitching coach.

  He takes off his shoes and hops up onto the bed, sitting behind me so I can lean against him. His chest is so solid. His hands are on my shoulders, kneading them. I’ve never felt such support, and all the fears I had a minute before that my body couldn’t do this, disappear. Because all I feel now is total safety and support.

  I can do this! I’ve got this!

  “I can see the head,” the doctor calls out loudly.

  “Come on, Gillian, one more, give one more good push,” Ryon urges me.

  I grasp onto the hospital bed’s railings and Ryon’s hands are holding my knees. Growling, my groan turns into a scream as I bear down and push as hard as I can. I don’t stop, I won’t stop. This is it. The pressure and pain are dizzying, but I concentrate on my goal, letting this be the final push, and I focus on the man behind me, who gives me the strength I need to do anything in this world. With him behind me, anything is possible.

  And then, it happens. The pain subsides and the room is quiet. For a few beats I wonder what’s happened. I went from total frenzy to a sudden calm. A piecing cry breaks the spell.

  Our baby.

  I look up and the doctor is standing, my baby in his arms. “Congratulations,” he says. �
�It’s a boy.”

  I’m sobbing, tears pouring from my eyes. Ryon has me wrapped in his arms and he keeps saying, “You did it, Gil. You did it. Our baby.” The doctor leans over and paces our screeching baby in my arms. The baby looks up at us, studying our faces, and his cries fall to little whimpers and then silence. It’s like he knows. He knows we’re his parents and he’s safe.

  Ryon’s chin is resting on my shoulder, tears flowing from his eyes as he holds out his finger and our baby grips it. “Welcome to the world, Houston Ryon Daniels.”

  And as we embrace our new life, everything else going on around us fades away.

  There are no nurses, no doctor, no hands touching and cleaning.

  It’s just us, and that’s all I’ll ever need.

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