His face lightens and he laughs into the kiss he places on my lips. “You are going to do great,” he assures me.
The ER transport has already arrived with a wheelchair for me to climb into. They direct Chase to the parking area, which he already knows. He started medical school at the University of Michigan in the fall, and he has familiarized himself with the hospital quite well.
We moved to Ann Arbor last summer for Chase to study medicine at the University of Michigan. He has done quite well so far, but it will definitely be a challenge to see him through medical school, especially now that we will have children.
I was able to take one semester of classes and get my Associates Degree at nearby Eastern University. But now that the babies are coming, I will take some time off from my career pursuits in order to be mom. We are blessed that Chase’s settlement money from the accident will help us during this tight financial time.
The contractions have remained regular since we left the house. So much for our doctor's admonitions about labor beginning slowly. This one is wasting no time becoming honest-to-goodness labor.
Chase finds me mid-contraction. I'm beginning to pant and his eyes become wide. Once it subsides, he says what has been on my mind for the past hour, “This is really happening, isn't it?”
Dr. Kilgard joins us shortly afterward, and she wastes no time in checking my dilation. With a hint of surprise in her voice, she reports that I'm already at 5 cm. “Things might move faster than we expected.” She smiles reassuringly. But suddenly, I don't feel very reassured. Instead, I feel a bit of panic. So far, the contractions have been manageable, but they have admittedly gotten more intense since we arrived at the hospital.
“It's not uncommon for labor to kick in pretty fast when your water breaks. I'll be checking on you regularly, so just do your best to relax and get ready to meet your babies.” Dr. Kilgard exits the room and I look at Chase with the newly realized fear in my eyes.
“I'm scared.”
Chase nuzzles my face with his and strokes my hair. “You can do all things through Christ who strengthens you,” he whispers. He is still leaning in when the next contraction begins. I grab his arm hard and start to squeeze – hard – because this one is the most intense one yet.
He props himself next to the bed, freeing at least one hand from his crutches so that he can be available to me. After several more intense contractions, and a growing red mark on Chase's arm, I begin to worry about him.
“You can sit down for a bit if you need to,” I tell him. “I'll be okay. I don't want you to get too tired out.” He moves to grab his crutch and thinks twice when I grab his arm one more time. This contraction has me moaning, and when it's over, I can tell he doesn't want to leave my side. But I convince him I'll be fine. “It's not like you're leaving me. You'll be just over there.” I motion to the chair across the room.
I manage to control my noise during the next several contractions. At first Chase can't keep his eyes off me, and I can tell he tenses up every time another one hits. But eventually, he leans back and relaxes. He even manages to doze off a bit, which is fine with me. I know that I can't take a break, but if he's able to re-energize for a bit, then he will be more ready to help me when I really need it.
I breathe through an hour of contractions, or maybe two hours. I waffle between watching the clock and trying to find something else in the room to distract me. The TV remote comes into view, so I switch on the TV and lower the volume. Nurses come in and out, offer me popsicles and ice chips, and encourage me repeatedly, telling me I'm doing “a great job.” I'm sure they have to say that to everyone, even if their heads are spinning around and they're screaming profanities.
After more contractions than I can count, I'm sure things are moving along. I'm no longer successful at keeping my noise down as I pant, moan and even grunt through the contractions. Just when I'm starting to get really irritated with Chase for sleeping so long, he wakes up and joins me.
A few more rounds of groaning and pulling out chunks of Chase's arm hair, I'm ready to be done.
“I'm getting so tired,” I tell him. “How long is this going to last?”
“I don't know, Katie. I wish I could do it for you. I hate seeing you like this.” He strokes my cheek and whispers, “Keep up the good work, babe. You're so strong. You can do it!”
I have no time to respond to his sweetness because the next contraction barges in and stays far too long. I pass the moaning and groaning stage and head straight into crying out in pain. One contraction subsides and another comes along way too fast. The nurse had given me a small pan in case I felt the need to vomit. With the next contraction, I grab the pan just in time.
“Chase,” I whimper. “I just want to be done.”
“I know, Katie, I know. You are so heroic. It will be over soon, just keep it up, okay? You're doing great.” He starts to stroke my hair again, but I fling his arm away as the next contraction begins. I vomit again and the nurse switches out my pan for a clean one.
“You're handling this so well,” she encourages me.
Oh, shut up! I think.
As the next contraction takes over, I'm crying out while yelling for Chase to find the TV remote. “Turn the stupid thing off! Turn it off!” I scream.
I barely notice, but a flurry of activity takes over the room. I see a nurse switching on bright lights on two tiny warming tables. Dr. Kilgard is back to check my progress and reports that I am almost ready to push. I hope she will tell me when I should start because I'm so ready to give up right. now.
Then she doesn't even need to tell me. I start to feel intense pressure and I know I'm ready. Dr. Kilgard tells me very carefully how to push, touching me, telling me where to focus my energy. With the next contraction, I give it my all and end up screaming in the process. I scream through three or four more rounds of pushing when Dr. Kilgard tells me that the first baby is almost here.
I cry with relief. I have just enough courage to push with all my might on the next contraction, and our baby girl enters the world. They hand her to me and Chase leans over with tears streaming down his face. He strokes her tiny head, and cries softly next to me.
I have a few minutes to relax and adore my baby before another contraction starts. It's not huge, but the nurses take the baby to the warming table so that I can receive the next one in my arms.
The next contraction makes up for the minor one that preceded it, and I'm screaming again. I'm pushing with everything I've got, but it doesn't seem to be happening as fast as the first one. After several pushes and what feels like no progress, I'm sobbing. “Why won't this baby come out?”
In a very brief moment between contractions, I hear the tiny cries of our little girl being cleaned up by the nurses. She gives me just enough courage to face the next contraction. And the next. And the next. Finally, Dr. Kilgard tells me that Baby #2 is almost out. I give one more gigantic, screaming push and our son is born.
More tears follow from both of us as our baby boy is placed on my chest. Shortly, he is whisked away to be cleaned up and they bring our little girl back. Chase and I are besides ourselves, weeping and sobbing uncontrollably. His face is so close to mine as we marvel at our sweet baby. His tears are mingling with mine and streaming down both of our faces.
“Chase, we have two babies! We have a son and a daughter. We have two!”
Chase leans in close to my face and kisses me through all of his tears. “You did it, Katie! I'm so proud of you.”
I can't believe I did it. Even more, I can't believe these two perfect little babies that are going to call me “Mommy.”
And they're going to call Chase “Daddy.”
I'm enthralled as I watch Chase enter the adventure of fatherhood while studying his tail off in med school and offering me the new mom support I need. It's not the first time he has amazed me, and I'm sure it won't be the last.
I have come to believe that Chase Nichols can do anything he puts his mind to.
And so can I.
With God's strength.
[Fluffer Nutter]
THANK YOU for taking the time to read Strong.
I sincerely hope you enjoyed it and that you were inspired by the story.
Where to find me:
My “domestic humor” blog: http://jennysuegotmarried.blogspot.com
My blog about my husband's stroke recovery: http://postcardsfromtherapy.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jennifer.r.yarrington
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JenYarrington
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Strong Page 20
