Fighting Envy

by Jennifer Miller

  My eyes widen as does the nurses, “Three hours ago? Have you been sitting here the whole time?” She nods. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  She opens her mouth to respond, but her eyes meet mine and then she looks down instead and shrugs. The nurse and I help her into the wheelchair and then he immediately begins pushing her through some double doors and down the hall. I give her hand a squeeze, feeling almost anxious at the thought of letting go, but know that I need to. About to wish her luck and tell her goodbye, she grabs my hand and squeezes it like hell, “Ow, fuck!”

  The nurse looks at me with a raised brow at my outburst, but I’m too focused on the girl breathing through her contraction to care. He begins wheeling her faster and she doesn’t let go of my hand, so I do my best to keep up.

  When we arrive at the part of the hospital stupidly named the Family Place, the nurse brings her right through the doors and into a room. “I’m going to get someone to come in here and check you out. They’ll be here in a moment to take your information.” She just nods and takes deep breaths appearing to try to calm herself again. “In the mean time, go ahead and change into this gown, then get up in the bed, please.”

  When he leaves, I stand there awkwardly and start to tell her good luck once again, but then feel nailed to the floor and struck dumb. She sets her bag down and pulls her shirt over her head. Swallowing hard, I turn my back to give her privacy although that didn’t seem to be a concern of hers.

  “You can turn around now,” she says.

  When I do, I’m thankful to see she’s all covered up. She may be pregnant and in labor, but I’m not dead. Her tits looked luscious and huge spilling out of the lace enclosing them when she pulled her shirt off. When she begins to get herself up in the bed, I immediately walk towards her and offer stability as she climbs in. They should have helped her, the asses, how can any pregnant woman do that easily? She looks at me in surprise and murmurs, “Thank you.” Before I can say another word someone comes in with a clipboard and begins asking all kinds of questions.

  “Hi. I’m Nurse Diaz and I need to ask you a few questions. First of all, did you preregister with the paperwork your doctor should have given you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, great. That will make this fast then. What is your name, honey?”

  “Rowan Martin.”

  A sound of surprise instantly leaves me drawing Rowan and the nurse’s attention. I cross my arms and stay silent through the rest of the nurse’s questions about insurance. When she leaves telling her another nurse would be in to check her progress and confirm if her water did in fact break, I finally tell her the reason for my surprise. I know her. Well… of her anyway. “Your Ty Martin’s sister,” I say as fact, not a question.

  Her eyes widen with surprise, “Yes, I am. He’s my twin brother.”

  I knew it. I met Ty several months back when he started coming into the gym. We became friends and he was shaping up to be a great fighter. He hasn’t been in the gym for quite some time and we’ve all wondered where he’s been. We tried calling his cell phone with no luck.

  Her face screws up in pain and I know another contraction has hit her. Without thought I walk over to her and take her hand vaguely wondering what the hell I’m doing. I should leave, but somehow I can’t seem to help myself. She squeezes my hand immediately, making me glad I took hers, and pants through her pain.

  Looking worriedly at a new nurse that walks in I blurt, “This seems to be happening a lot. Doesn’t that mean something?”

  Before she can respond a doctor breezes into the room behind her. “Hi there, my name is Dr. Sutton. I’m the doctor on call this evening and I’m going to check you to make sure your water did in fact break, and to see how far you’re dilated, if at all, okay?” Rowan nods and I start to pull my hand away but she squeezes it tighter.

  When they begin to lift up the sheet that covers her legs, I politely look away. I hear him ask her to move down a bit and readjust the sheet. I don’t know what the fuck the doctor does under it and I don’t think I want to know. Watching her face as her nose wrinkles with discomfort, I can’t help but wonder why she’s here alone. Where is her family, her brother? Hell, where is the baby daddy? All I need is for him to walk in here ready to kick my ass because I’m seeing his girl in such a vulnerable and personal state.

  “Your water definitely broke and you’re already at an eight dilation, and about eighty percent effaced. At this rate, it won’t be long before you’ll begin pushing. This baby doesn’t appear to be waiting around. I need to know what your birth plan is?”

  She looks at the doctor in confusion, “Birth plan?”

  He smiles kindly and I’m glad. I think I’d punch him if he weren’t nice to her. “You need to decide now if you want an epidural or not. How much pain are you in? Are you managing it well? Do you need help with the pain?”

  “It’s bearable. I don’t want an epidural, I want to be clear headed for the birth.”

  “Okay. Just so you know. You’re at a point where we won’t be able to do it later. So, just want you to be sure.” I see her nod her head yes. “We are also going to get you to a labor and delivery room now, put an IV in and attach you to baby monitors. I’ll be back as soon as you’re dilated to ten centimeters. Did you take any labor and delivery classes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, good. Then you know what I mean when I tell you to breathe the best you can through the pain. As you get closer to ten, your contractions will come faster and harder.”

  Way to be encouraging there, asshole. I keep my thoughts to myself although I can’t contain the glare I give him. A nurse notices and I swear I see her smile at my obvious protectiveness.

  “Okay, Rowan. I’ll be back soon.” He pats her leg and heads out of the room.

  Finding myself staring at her, I realize that I don’t care for the thought of her being in more pain. When her face twists again and her hand tightens in mine, I grit my teeth wishing I could take it from her.

  When it subsides she looks at me, “So, you know my brother, Tyson?”

  Smiling, I think of the guy that looks so similar yet different enough to the girl looking at me. “Yes. He came to my gym all the time and started MMA training.”

  “MMA training? What’s that?”

  Her breathing is harsh and her words come out like bullets between pants. I’m assuming keeping her in conversation is helpful, so I squeeze her hand and keep talking. “MMA stands for mixed martial arts. I fight professionally, and own a gym for training and fitness. Ty came in a lot and had begun training too. When I met him, he told me he wanted to get into fighting. In fact, I think he said he needed to.” When her brows furrow, I shrug. “He’s really great and I’ve been excited to sponsor him. My gym sponsors several fighters and we have someone that helps get fights scheduled. We were planning on doing just that for him.”

  “Oh. I had no idea. He didn’t mention it.”

  “Where’s he been? Is he okay? I haven’t seen him lately and we’ve tried calling him a few times and left messages, but he’s never gotten back to me, or one of the other guys. He never said he wanted to quit. He’s always been really into it, so I never expected that he just wouldn’t return.”

  Before she can answer, two guys come in to wheel her to the labor and delivery room and somehow, I find myself walking along side her bed without question. This is the craziest shit ever. I came here to get a few stiches and now I’m going to be here for the birth of a baby? Am I? How did this happen? I watch with wide eyes as nurses bustle around her connecting her to wires and poke and prod her. She reaches for me when another contraction hits and I automatically give her my numb and tingling hand. When it passes, she puts her big eyes back on me, “I’m sorry. I keep squeezing the hell out of your hand. I’m just… not myself. I…” she stops and her eyes well up, but she lifts her chin and clears her throat trying hard to get control of her emotions.

  “How can I help, Rowan? Can I call
Ty? Your mom or dad? Your boyfriend or husband? Are you married? Just give me their numbers and I can let them know what’s going on, or maybe they are already on their way and I should go watch for them and tell them where you are?”

  “No,” she whispers. “There’s no one.”

  “What do you mean? Let me at least call Ty. He talked about you all the time. I know he would want to be here.”

  Another pain grips her and she seems hesitant to say more with the nurses all around her clearly listening in on our conversation, so I don’t push it. When this pain passes she finally says, “Tyson’s gone.”

  “Gone? I don’t understand. Did he move away?”

  “No. Kind of, I guess. Only temporarily.” She sighs and blurts, “He’s in jail.”

  “What?” I stare at her in disbelief. “Jail? What the hell happened?”

  “He…” her breath is taken from her and she begins to take short breaths, working through the pain. I think I feel something pop in my hand. Gritting my teeth, I do my best not to call out like a pussy, but hell, it hurts. This little woman has some power in that grip of hers. “Oh god, I feel like I need to push,” she yells.

  “Let me take a look, honey.” According to her name tag, Nurse Johnson lifts the sheet that’s covering Rowan’s legs and takes a look and once again, I divert my eyes to Rowan’s face. She’s watching the nurse intently. “You’re at a ten. Let me go get the doctor right now.”

  Rowan nods her head and a tear falls down her cheek. It breaks something inside of me to see her hurting. “Hey, its okay. I’ll be honest, I don’t know shit about this, but I can tell you are doing great. Don’t cry.”

  Eyes full of tears, wet hair plastered to the side of her face, cheeks and lips flushed, she gives me a soft smile and something inside of me completely flips over. She undoes me with that look. I’m gone. Even in the midst of pain and obvious fear, her beauty and strength shine through whatever darkness her earlier words made her feel. She’s the epitome of strength and I feel humbled to be in her presence and I don’t even know details. I don’t need to know. It’s written all over her. “I know you don’t know me. But please, can I ask you a favor?”

  “You can ask me anything,” I answer.

  “Don’t leave me.” Her words are soft as if she’s afraid to confess them for fear of my response. “I don’t have anyone else and I don’t want to be alone.”

  An overwhelming feeling of possessiveness and the blatant need to protect her once again takes me over, making me grit my teeth and my toes curl in my shoes. The strong feelings make me unable to answer her for a full minute.

  I’m not one of those guys that believe in love at first sight and all that girly shit, but hell if this girl doesn’t do something to me that I don’t understand. She makes me think that maybe it’s not so impossible after all. So, instead of questioning it further, I do what I always do, I take a chance. It’s no different than when I stand up to my asshole of a father. It’s no different than when I took over the gym I now own. It’s no different than when I step into the cage, each and every time. All of those times, I fight for what I want. And now, I want her, no matter how crazy or fast it seems.

  “I won’t leave you. I promise.”

  I don’t take my promises lightly.

  Breathing through another contraction I want to find Jason and rip his fucking head off. I feel a mixture of sadness and anger laced with despair. My mind is all over the place. I’ve become this scared shell of a person and it’s pissing me off. I’ve dealt with much more than this, and alone, so why should this be any different? But it is.

  Right now, I’m angry not only for him leaving me like a piece of trash he threw away, but for getting me in this condition. Yeah sure, it takes two to tango and blah, blah, stupid blah. I don’t care. This hurts, so damn much. Not that I didn’t think it wouldn’t. I know what to expect, but I didn’t expect to do this on my own.

  The squeeze of my hand makes me remember that I’m not alone. Before I can glance at mystery man, I focus hard on getting through this pain. Breathe… breathe… in…. out….in… out. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I’m fucking strong, dammit.

  I want to find out mystery man’s name. It’s ironic that he knows Tyson, and somehow that comforts me. I feel a twinge of guilt for squeezing his hand so tightly and for practically begging him to stay. He looks terrified, yet determined. He keeps swallowing a lot and gritting his teeth to stay under control. He’s running his other hand through his thick dark hair and I can tell he’s stressed. It isn’t like I really made the choice easy for him. Who the hell can say no to a girl in this condition anyway? Oh wait, I guess I just asked myself a rhetorical question. I know the answer to that, don’t I?

  The doctor walks in with a big smile on his face and claps his hands in excitement. “Okay! Let’s have ourselves a baby. You ready?”

  Is he serious? I glare at him and almost smile when I see mystery man doing the same, until I get another contraction that distracts me from him. The asshole doctor is smiling like this is a picnic. I’m getting ready to squeeze a fucking watermelon out of my vagina hole, and he’s clapping? I’d like to tell him to shove it. This is what I get for not choosing a specific OB and going to the free health clinic instead. They told me that all the delivery doctors are great, but hell, what else would they say? Oh well, no use in thinking about that now. Instead, I nod and try not to get nervous when they push a button that lifts the bed into more of a sitting position.

  Oh god, I will never, ever have more children. This is awful. The pain is debilitating, and what the hell is up with me deciding to do this naturally and wanting to be clear minded? There’s no award to be won here, what am I out to prove? Clearly, I’ve lost my mind. My abdomen tightens and I feel so much pressure, “Oh! Here comes another one. I need to push! Now!” I scream but can’t find it within myself to feel embarrassed.

  “Alright, Rowan, listen. I’m going to count to five and at the same time, you push as hard as you can, take a breath, then push again for another five. Got it?”

  Nodding, I grip the handles on either side of me to have something sturdy to hold onto. One nurse holds my leg back and gestures for mystery man to do the same. Now, I feel a flash of embarrassment and if my cheeks weren’t already red from exertion, they’d redden at the horrified look on his face. All that quickly fades when I start pushing. “One… two… three…four…five….” I take in a deep breath gulping as much air as possible and then start pushing again, “One… two….three…four….five.”

  Falling back, I pant from the exertion while sweat pours down my face, neck and back. I jerk a little when a cool towel brushes over my forehead. Looking to my left, mystery man seems focused on his task of cooling me down. “Thank you,” I tell him in between pants.

  He nods at me and tries to give me encouragement, but he looks a little green. “You’re doing great. You can do this.”

  Before I can respond, it’s time to push again. When I’m finished the doctor does his best to encourage me, “You’re doing exceptional, Rowan. I can already see the baby’s head. Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

  “No. I want to be surprised.”

  “Well he or she has a full head of dark hair just like you!”

  My toes curl with the pain from the next push. “One… two… three… four…five.” I gulp in air again but feel the need to push again immediately. “One…two…three…four…five. Great job, Rowan. We need one, maybe two more pushes, and then the head will already be out. This is going so well, you’re doing amazing for your first time.”

  Amazing? I feel like I’m being ripped apart from the inside out. “I just want it out!” I scream.

  Mystery man rubs my leg and looks at me, “Hang in there. You are so strong, and you can do this.” I look at him and surprisingly want to laugh. Truth is there’s a mix of amazement and terror on his face that’s comical. Poor guy. I’m going to have to bake him something after this. I wonder what
he likes? Maybe cookies or brownies or something. “Oh hell! I need to push again.”

  “One….two…three…four….five,” the nurse counts. I take a deep breath through my nose and then push again. While they count I hear the doctor tell mystery man that he should take a look and can’t even bring myself to care when they ask, or when he declines. Can’t say I blame him.

  “The head is out, Rowan. The rest will be easy.” Somehow I manage not to scoff or laugh hysterically at that comment. “Hold it until I tell you to push gently, okay?” I nod and do my best to catch my breath and breathe deeply while thinking of all the ways I’d like to murder the doctor for suggesting anything about this is easy. Men! Fucking men! Sweat pours down my head, my hair is sticking to me and I’m exposed to the world, but all I can think about is that I’m almost done. I’m going to meet my baby. I can do this. I see the finish line and it’s glorious.

  “Okay, Rowan, this is the final stretch. Give me a gentle push.”

  I do as he asks and am thrilled when after a moment, I’m rewarded with the sweetest cry I’ve ever heard.

  “It’s a girl!”

  I begin crying and when they place her on my chest, I wrap my arms around her the best way I can considering she’s still attached to me and I’m panting from exertion. “Hi there my sweet, sweet baby girl,” I say to her in between pants and tears. Her little eyes open and she looks at me and in that instant, my heart no longer belongs to anyone but her. I never really understood what people were talking about when they said that in an instant my whole world would change and my heart would become full to bursting. Their words would make me nod and smile in agreement, but I didn’t really understand – not really. Now, I know exactly what they mean – I understand with my whole heart and soul. My heart feels like it’s overflowing with love and awe and protectiveness at this little life so entwined with mine. The empty, broken pieces in my heart are mended together with one look from a sweet precious baby girl. My baby girl.

  “We just have to take her to clean her up a bit, honey.” The doctor has cut the umbilical cord so the nurse takes her off of my stomach and a small whimper escapes me at the loss of her heat on my belly. Then I moan in pain when another nurse starts rubbing hard on my stomach. “I’m sorry dear, I know this is uncomfortable. We just have to make sure the uterus doesn’t retain clots and contracts back.” That’s an understatement I think as I groan in pain. The nurse smiles softly at me, “I’m sure you’re tired honey, let’s make sure you get some rest once the baby is sleeping. Do you have a name for your sweet girl yet?”