Nameless

by Claire Kent

  Like her whole existence had been made up of the pain of contractions, of inhaling and exhaling, of changing positions, of hearing Liz’s tireless coaching on breathing, of sucking on ice chips, of praying that she'd soon be dilated enough to be able to push her daughter out.

  It felt like forever, an endless eternity. In reality, it had only been about four hours since Seth had arrived unexpectedly.

  Things had improved after he’d arrived. With his presence and Liz’s, Erin no longer had to worry constantly about her father. So she’d been able to focus more on managing her pain, which had helped more than she’d expected.

  She’d done everything she was supposed to do. Walked, changed positions, breathed through every contraction, focused and visualized to distract herself from the pain. But it just went on—hour after hour.

  So finally she’d been so exhausted that she’d asked for some pain medication.

  Since Erin didn’t want to suffer the inhibitions that came with other kinds of drugs, the nurse had given her a partial dose of a narcotic analgesic. It hadn’t stopped the pain, but it had taken the edge off. She’d felt lightheaded and a little woozy afterwards, but it had allowed her to relax, to rest a little. Something she’d desperately needed.

  The respite the medicine had given her was wearing off now, however, and she could feel the intensity of the contractions beginning to return.

  She was lying on her side, while Seth stood behind her, kneading her lower back and stroking her hair. Liz had gone to grab something for lunch with their dad, so the dim room was blessedly quiet.

  It would have been very nice. If Erin hadn’t been hurting so much.

  Seth hadn’t spoken much in the hours he’d been with her, except to question the hospital staff, arrange for Erin’s comfort, and regularly ask her what else she needed.

  Erin couldn’t really tell if he was happy to be here. If he was awkward or tense about it. If he was nervous or uncertain. Or if he was simply here out of obligation.

  In the lull between contractions, she asked what she’d been wondering for hours. “Really, Seth,” she murmured, bending her neck up so she could meet his eyes. “Why did you come back?”

  “I told you. I shouldn’t have left.”

  “But why? What about the trial?”

  “I’d rather be here.”

  Something soft and mushy rose up in her chest, but he still hadn’t answered her questions. “What about the case? If people’s lives are at stake—”

  “Erin,” Seth interrupted. “You don’t need to be worrying about this.”

  Another contraction welled up, and it was intense, but still mostly manageable, thanks to the lingering effects of the medication and the relaxation she’d been able to do.

  “Liz is going to be mad,” Erin gasped when the pain receded again.

  Seth’s strong hands were still on her shoulders. “It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “You forgot to tell me to breathe.”

  He smiled.

  “Thanks for coming back,” she whispered, while she still had the courage and energy to do so. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

  He nodded. Mumbled something she couldn’t quite catch.

  Before she could ask him to repeat it, Liz returned.

  “That wasn’t long,” Erin chided faintly. “Did you eat enough? Where’s Dad?”

  “I got him to go to my apartment and take a nap for a couple of hours,” Liz told her. “And, yes, we ate plenty. Do you want to go eat something, Seth?”

  Erin realized it was a great concession on her sister’s part to offer Seth a break like that.

  “No, thanks,” he replied, his voice not quite as cool as it usually was when he spoke to Liz. “I’m not hungry at the moment.”

  Liz shrugged and didn’t object. Erin, however, wanted to argue. She'd opened her mouth to speak when she was hit with another contraction.

  When it passed, Liz flopped down onto the chair beside the bed. “Fuck,” she moaned. “Remind me to never do this myself. No babies for me. I don’t know how you’re making it through so well.”

  Erin smiled at the grumbled encouragement as she changed positions again, this time moving to her hands and knees on the bed. “Well, you guys are definitely helping, and I’ve got it better than a lot of women. I think it's worse when they have to induce you, and so far I’ve had no complications.”

  Liz nodded distractedly. “What is this? Doggie style childbirth?”

  “Yes,” Erin replied sarcastically. “That’s exactly what it is.”

  “Does it really help, like they said it would in the childbirth class? To get in that position?”

  “For a while."

  Unfortunately, nothing helped indefinitely and, as Erin felt another contraction developing, she bleakly wondered if the rhythmic cycle of agony and lull would ever end.

  When that contraction faded, Erin’s arms were shaking even more. She pulled her weight up from her arms and scooted forward a little, slumping against Seth’s body and pressing her face into his shoulder.

  He wrapped his arms around her and held her for a minute.

  Liz said, “At lunch, Dad was talking about how Mom stayed on her back through the whole thing and how she never moved at all, except when she got transferred to the delivery table. I tried to explain how women used to be hooked up to machines all the time and how, with epidurals, they had to stay in the one position, but I think he was weirded out by the new methods. I mean the old methods that are coming back.”

  “Well, he’s old-fash—” Erin broke off when another contraction began. After another painful interlude, she tried to pick up the thread of conversation. “He’s old-fashioned.”

  “I didn’t tell him about Louis,” Liz said with a smirk.

  “Please don’t. You should tell Seth about it, though.” Erin wasn’t sure she had the energy to tell the story herself, but she really wanted to see Seth's reaction.

  “Right,” Liz chimed in, leaning forward in her chair. “Apparently, lying on your back while giving birth only became the standard position when Louis XIV was king of France. Wait until you hear this. Talk about your sick bastards. The king got a perverted thrill from watching his mistress giving birth. So he demanded that she lie on her back with her legs parted, instead of in a more comfortable position, just so he could get a better view. Then he hid behind a curtain, leering at her and jerking off during the proceedings.”

  Seth raised his eyebrows. “Is that right?”

  Liz grinned. “Well, I’m not positive about the jerking off part, but I wouldn’t be surprised—the sick, sadistic perv. And the rest of it is apparently true. According to most sources, that’s what solidified the lying-on-your-back position as the established way for women to give birth in modern Western cultures. Even though it’s the most difficult and uncomfortable for women.” She sighed, as if in satisfaction. “It’s amazing what you learn in childbirth class.”

  “It is,” Seth murmured.

  Erin saw something almost imperceptible in his face. Gasped. Poked him hard in the chest. “You already knew that story.”

  He almost smiled. He looked as cool and composed as ever, but she suddenly realized that he was exhausted. It wasn’t evident on his face, but his eyes were less guarded than normal. All he said was, “I told you before. I always do my research.”

  She sniffed disdainfully to hide a strange tenderness.

  Then she stopped sniffing because another contraction forced its way up.

  All of her intellectual interest in the previous conversation faded.

  Because, although it was nice not to be restricted to lying on her back, it didn't make everything better.

  Even being on her hands and knees like this hurt like hell.

  ***

  An hour later, she was on her hands and knees again, after having shifted positions three times. It was getting harder and harder to get comfortable. And harder and harder to focus on anything else.
<
br />   She was in the midst of another contraction, and the one contraction was evidently endless.

  And so was the next one. And the following one.

  She barely had any time between them anymore. Couldn’t do anything more than shiver helplessly and try to catch her breath in the brief lulls.

  Then, when one excruciating contraction finally dissipated, she felt a strange pop and a gush of liquid between her legs, soaking her bare thighs and even the pad on the bed she knelt on.

  She gasped in horror, feeling disoriented and helpless. “Oh, God,” she whispered, turning to look at Seth. “Did I just pee?”

  He wiped her face with a wet washcloth. His own face was glistening with perspiration, and there was a damp spot on the back of his shirt. But he was as unflappable as always. “No, baby. I think your water just broke at last.”

  Erin blinked at him, baffled both by the endearment and by the fact that she’d forgotten all about her water not having broken until now.

  But she didn’t have time to wonder about either thing. Because another contraction slammed into her. Without the normal warning and build-up.

  And it was so much worse. So much worse than anything.

  She vaguely heard Seth calmly asking Liz to call for a nurse. But the intensity of the ache in her pelvis swallowed her, was everywhere, everything.

  And wouldn’t ever end.

  Suddenly Erin was terrified. Felt like she might die. Like she wasn’t strong enough to deal with it. Like she was an absolute fool to think she’d ever be able to have a baby in the first place.

  She panicked. Knew in the back of her mind she shouldn’t, but rationality was impossible at the moment. Instead of breathing like she was supposed to, she sobbed into Seth’s shoulder, choking and gasping and clawing at his shirt. “Oh, God. Oh, God, is the pumpkin all right?”

  “She’s great,” Seth murmured, stroking her hair. “She’s doing great. She’s almost here. Just a little bit longer.”

  She felt another contraction on the heels of the last one. Choked a little. “I don’t think I can do it. It’s too much.”

  “You can. Of course, you can. You’re near the end now. In transition, I think. Liz is getting someone to check.”

  Erin was panting and barely aware of his words as the next contraction came on the heels of the previous one. She was crying again after that one ended.

  She had thought she was doing so well. Using her knowledge and education. Making informed decisions. Staying calm—for the most part. And managing the extended hours of pain without breaking down.

  But she had been crazy. No one could really manage this.

  And now it was too late for medication.

  Seth’s voice was right next to her ear. Saying things like, “You’re doing fine, baby. Just make it through this next contraction.”

  It helped for a few seconds.

  Transition was horrible, but not very long. Fortunately, it blurred into nothing but an anguished haze.

  The next thing Erin recognized distinctly was feeling a sudden, desperate need to push and Dr. Warren looking up from examining her to say, “Ten centimeters, Erin. That means you get to push your baby out now.”

  Erin almost sobbed with relief.

  She’d been waiting for this part for nine months.

  ***

  Nothing Erin could remember felt as good as being able to push.

  She started in a semi-reclining position, and when she felt the next irresistible urge to push, she was actually allowed to do so. It was a blessing, a shattering relief, to be able to do something after hours of suffering, to be able to bear down into the pain.

  Her three pushes with the first contraction were uneven and kind of shaky, since she was still experimenting and adjusting to the new dynamic.

  “Good,” Dr. Warren murmured, from where she was positioned between Erin’s legs. “But don’t try to be discreet. Push into the pressure. Push down, through your pelvis. Don’t be self-conscious. Just push everything out.”

  Despite her earlier worries, Erin wasn’t remotely self-conscious anymore. She’d do anything to get this baby out, and she didn’t care what else came out of her in the process.

  “Are you comfortable,” the doctor asked. “Do you want to change positions?”

  The contractions had spaced out longer now, so Erin actually had a little time to relax. She was too exhausted to try a more demanding position than this, though, even if it would mean delivering her daughter faster. She shook her head. “I’m okay.”

  She did try to lift her back up more, not liking how she was slumping against the incline of the bed.

  The nurse must have noticed her efforts because the woman said, looking at Seth, “Maybe you could get in behind her. That sometimes gives women more support.”

  Erin was about to object, not wanting Seth to be forced to participate more than he wanted to, but Seth—without even speaking—eased Erin’s back up and climbed into the bed behind her. He must have done his research in this too, because he positioned himself easily, adjusting so that he could support her back and shoulders.

  “All right?” he asked softly, his voice now right in her ear.

  “Yeah.” She shifted slightly, suddenly feeling too close, too intimate, too dependent. But then she felt another contraction developing, and she knew she could really use his support. “Thanks.”

  Erin never would have believed that this was Seth. He'd always been so distant and cool. So dignified and aloof.

  And yet he was here. Doing this.

  Erin summoned her strength and bore down, as hard as she could. Released it. Breathed. Then pushed again. Breathed. Pushed again before the contraction faded.

  “Beautiful,” Dr. Warren murmured. “Those are excellent pushes. We’re going to make some good progress.”

  For a blurry span of time, there was nothing but pushing and breathing and resting in between in absolute exhaustion. The pattern repeated. Again and again. She occasionally shifted positions—onto her side and then back to a semi-sitting position. Pushing and breathing and resting. Pushing and breathing and resting.

  Sometimes so tired in the lulls she might have slept.

  Seth was bracing her knees, keeping her legs out of the way, and his body was supporting her back. He wasn’t speaking either, but his palms were slightly damp on her bare skin.

  When Erin relaxed after an exhausting set of pushes, Dr. Warren smiled up at her. “You’re doing great. Those are beautiful pushes. I can catch a glimpse of her head now. It won't be long until it crowns.”

  “Really?” Erin mumbled, stupidly trying to lean over and see for herself.

  Seth stopped her. Then nodded toward the mirror that the nurse had just positioned for Erin. He hadn’t said a word in what seemed like ages.

  Erin peered in the mirror. Couldn’t see anything. But, with the next contraction and set of pushes, she saw a glimpse in the mirror of a little scalp. But it disappeared as soon as she stopped pushing.

  “She’s bloody,” Erin gurgled.

  “She’s perfect,” Dr. Warren assured her. “A few more pushes and you'll be able to see more of her head.”

  Erin breathed, feeling so much pressure between her legs that she thought her eyes would pop out. And then, with the next contraction, she began to push again, staring at the mirror for another glimpse of the little head.

  She started to feel a stinging, stretching pain that was entirely different than what she’d been experiencing during all of the previous hours. It intensified as the baby’s head became more visible, and Erin stopped pushing automatically so the pain wouldn’t get any worse.

  This time, the top of the little head didn’t disappear when the contraction faded.

  Erin stared at it, mesmerized.

  It was almost over. Almost finished.

  She felt another contraction coming.

  Dr. Warren said, “Don’t push with this one. We don’t want to force her head through.”

  Er
in whimpered. Now that she was so close, now that she could see the end, she just wanted to give one last push and have the whole thing over.

  She felt Seth get a better grip on her.

  She’d never seen him so quiet, not since he was sixteen years old and walking the aisles of the library.

  Wondered what he could possibly be thinking.

  Didn’t have time or energy to wonder anymore. Because the next contraction rose up, and she tried to channel all of her need to push into blowing air out of her lungs instead.

  She could feel her flesh giving way, stretching even more. It hurt. But it was such a different kind of pain. Sharp. Superficial. Familiar. It stung so much there were tears in her eyes, but it was almost a relief after the deep intensity of the contractions.

  Things had slowed down significantly, now that Erin wasn’t pushing, but she forced herself to rest during the break. Stared at more of the little head in the mirror.

  Then blew out in little pants with the next contraction—the sharp pain numbing as the pressure increased. Saw even more of the head appear.

  Eventually, enough of it emerged for the doctor to suction the baby’s nose and mouth.

  When her daughter’s head turned enough for her see the whole face in the mirror, Erin started to shake.

  “One more contraction and we’ll have the shoulders,” Dr. Warren said quietly. “You can push again, but do it gently.”

  Seth was a silent, unknowable presence behind her, but he was solid and so strong. He was holding onto her, breathing against her hair. But she only registered his existence intuitively, unconsciously.

  Her entire focus was on only one thing.

  She was trembling helplessly, soaked with sweat, choking on emotion, and now struggling to breathe. Every part of her body hurt in ways she’d never imagined. The room was a vague blur around her, and she couldn’t even remember who was there with her.

  It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

  On the last push, she reached unsteady arms out instinctively.

  A lot of things were happening at once, but Erin didn’t register any of them.

  Someone faceless—who must have been the doctor—pulled her daughter out the rest of the way.