Gentle Reader, You will understand this entry most fully if you have read Chapter 9: "I is for Intimate." Best always, T Traveller

N is for Nativity

Friday, October 5, 2018

Christian

"Christian." A sweet, familiar voice is in my ear, and a soft hand runs across my chest. "Wake up. I need you."

"What time is it?" I move my legs and feel something wet.

"Five-ish. My water just broke."

"Shit. I knew we should have stayed home."

When Dad declared he'd celebrate his 65th birthday in Montana, Ana and Kate jumped on the bandwagon.

Our family has grown too large to stay with my parents, so we bought this house a couple of years ago. We have a house in Aspen and an apartment in New York, but this is our favorite getaway. It's only a half mile from my parents' home, so it's easy for us to get together and visit back and forth.

When we decided to make this trip only ten days from Ana's due date, we didn't consider an early arrival. The other three have all arrived past their due date, so the scenario in which we now find ourselves never seemed like much of a possibility.

"Well," Ana sighs, "we didn't stay home and now we're rolling in amniotic fluid. Would you please call Grace to come watch the kids while you take me to the hospital?"

I watch as Ana waddles to our bathroom. The bottom half of her gown is soaked.

Mother doesn't answer her cell phone, so I call the landline. Dad answers.

"Hullo." His voice is raspy, gruff.

"Dad?"

"What's wrong?" Carrick Grey is now on high alert.

"Nothing's wrong. I need to take Ana to the hospital in Kalispell. Her water just broke."

"A grandchild for my birthday…what a fine gift."

"Could you and Mother come watch the kids while we're gone?"

"There's nothing I'd like more, but the blizzard has dumped a couple of feet on our driveway, and it's still coming down."

Blizzard! What the fuck is Dad talking about?

"Well shit! We turned in early last night, and the last I heard a light dusting was forecast. If you can't get out of your driveway, then we won't be able to get out of ours."

"You definitely have a problem on your hands. If anyone can figure it out, you will. Call me back, son, when you work it out. Maybe Sawyer can watch the children. He's rather good with them."

Dad blows me off with no idea of the enormity of this problem. How does he think I'll get Ana to the hospital?

"Sure. Sawyer will stay with the kids. I'll task Reynolds with getting us to the hospital. I'll call you back soon."

Gail and Taylor are off on an anniversary-second honeymoon trip. I wish they were here. Ana and the children could really use Gail's maternal care. Taylor always gives great parenting advice and helps keep me centered. Alas, it wasn't meant to be. It's Sawyer and Reynolds on patrol.

Sawyer answers on the first ring, sounding as fresh as a daisy. Damn, it's nice having employees who don't need sleep.

"Sir, what can I do for you?"

"I need you and Reynolds to come up to the house."

"Now? What's wrong?"

"Mrs. Grey needs to go to the hospital. Our baby wants to be born."

I hear some rustling and banging on the other end.

"I've just stepped outside, and there's zero visibility. Sir, we'll get there as soon as we can, but please turn on as many lights as possible to help guide us."

"Sure. Just hurry."

I hang up and run around like a mad man, hitting light switches, interior and exterior.

The children's rooms are the only ones cloaked in darkness. Our three angels sleep soundly, unaware of the small drama unfolding around them. Soon they'll welcome a new sibling.

Early on, Anastasia decided she wanted gender to be a surprise. She was fine with me knowing, but only if I felt sure I could keep it to myself. After much deliberation, I elected not to learn the gender. Today, all will be revealed.

Anastasia is in the shower, washing her hair. I open the shower door a crack, and watch as a waterfall cascades from her large mound.

"Do you need help?" I ask.

"No, I'll be out in a minute."

"Are you okay?" Her face is scrunched. Is it pain or is she just trying to keep the shampoo out of her eyes?

"My back hurts."

"Labor?"

"Yes."

I strip the sheets and mattress pad. There's a thin vinyl cover over the mattress, something all parents need. I recall all the abuse our children have given our mattresses and linens. Spittle, leaky diapers, vomit, sticky hands, errant food bits, and now amniotic fluid.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

There are fresh linens in the hall closet. I've never changed the sheets on our bed, but after initially trying to put the bottom sheet on the wrong way, I figure it out.

My phone pings.

Sawyer.

Reynolds and I are in the kitchen, awaiting instructions.

It's now six o'clock. Anastasia is still in the shower. What's taking her so long?

I race to the kitchen. Reynolds has made coffee, and when he sees me, he hands me a mug.

Sawyer is on the phone. From his end of the conversation, I know he's speaking to someone from the hospital. I stand next to him, listening in.

"Sir," Sawyer says, "ambulance isn't an option. Visibility is near zero. The roads are impassable. And I don't need to tell you, there's no way a Medevac chopper can fly in this mess."

"Maybe the snowplows will be out soon," I say.

Reynolds and Sawyer exchange concerned looks.

Shit.

"Is there something I need to know?"

"We're two feet in," Reynolds says, "and the forecast is for another foot in the next few hours. I don't think we can expect snowplows."

"After my child has safely arrived, remind me to throttle the asshole forecaster who missed this storm. Let me check on Anastasia."

I hear the hair dryer as I enter the bathroom. Ana is dressed in a loose cotton gown, hunched over the sink.

"Let me do that," I tell her. "Sit on the toilet and I'll fix your hair." I dry her hair and plait it in one long braid down her back.

"I've been timing the contractions," she says. "They're five minutes apart. This labor is progressing faster than the others. We need to get to the hospital."

What the fuck are we going to do?

Shit. I need to tell her.

"We're snowed in." I wait for the enormity of that to sink in.

Anastasia grabs my arms and shakes her head in disbelief.

"No…no…what are you telling me? I don't understand." Her voice is shrill.

"I'm telling you a blizzard is dumping snow on us right now. The roads are impassable. There is no way for us to get to the hospital. If your contractions are five minutes apart, then I need to call Mother and find out what the fuck we're supposed to do."

Anastasia's eyes dart around the room. She bites down on her right knuckle, and fights back tears.

"I'm scared," she says, sucking on her bottom lip.

I'm fucking terrified, but I can't let Ana see the depth of my fear.

"We'll get through this, one step at a time. I'll call Mother and find out what we need to do. In the meantime, try to make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something?"

"Maybe some tea."

"Okay. Be right back," I kiss her forehead, and close the door behind me, so she can have some peace and quiet.

I meet Ted and Maggie as I head toward the kitchen.

"Mommy?" Maggie asks.

"She's resting," I tell her.

"Mommy said we'd have a treat this morning. We're hungry." Looks like cold cereal all the way around this morning. Ana's not up for making treats.

"Where's Ray? He's usually the first one up."

"In the kitchen, waiting for breakfast."

"Let's go find him. I need to speak to all three of you." They'll need to be on their best behavior today. I'm already stressed, and Ana is in labor.

Ted and Maggie run ahead of me. Sawyer helps Maggie up onto a stool.

"Good morning, my three little Greys," I say. "This is a family meeting, and I have an announcement to make."

"First we need the Dutch baby," Ray pouts, his arms folded across his chest. What the fuck is he talking about? I was at the conception, and this baby is one hundred percent American.

"What do you mean?" I ask Ray.

"It's a big, fluffy pancake with fruit on top," Ted explains. "Mommy makes it for us." And how have I missed out on this treat? Anastasia and I need to have a talk.

"That sounds delicious, but Mommy isn't feeling up to cooking this morning. She has a different kind of surprise." I use my excited Daddy voice.

"What?" Ted asks.

"No Dutch baby, but you might be getting a baby brother or sister." I survey their faces.

Ted and Ray send up a chorus of yays, bouncing up and down in their seats. I'm not sure two-year-old Maggie understands, but she mimics her brothers.

"I'll take care of their breakfasts, sir," Sawyer tells me.

"Thank you," I tell him.

"I need you three to help Sawyer. When you're finished eating, you can visit Mommy."

With the children situated, I call my mother.

"Oh, Christian, how's Ana? Carrick told me the situation."

"The contractions are five minutes apart. I'm going to have to deliver this baby, and I need guidance."

"Not to worry, you know more than you think you do. Is there anyone who can help?"

Hell, no. I'm not letting Sawyer or Reynolds near Anastasia when she's giving birth.

"Sawyer is looking after the kids. Reynolds is available, but I don't want him to see Anastasia."

"I understand. Reynolds can help with the preparations. Do you have any antibacterial soap? Latex gloves?"

"No. We don't have either of those things."

"You'll just have to make do, make certain everyone washes their hands. Gather up all the clean towels and linens you can find. Have Reynolds launder all the dirty linens. You need a large supply."

"Okay. Clean hands and linens. What else?"

"You've cut the cord before, so you know what that's like. You'll need to boil some scissors. Do you have anything to clamp the cord? You'll need two clamps."

"Shit. What can I use?"

"Do you have any of those plastic bar clips used for keeping plastic bags closed?'

"I don't know."

"Put Reynolds to work finding some. Tell him to look through the kitchen drawers. You'll need to boil those as well. Do you have a bulb syringe?"

"What's that?" I ask.

"It's used to suction out the nose right after birth. I think Ana has one in the children's first aid kit. Check their bathroom. To tie off the cord, you'll need something soft like shoelaces. Don't use anything thin like dental floss, because that can tear into the tissue. Boil the shoelaces as well, then lay them out to dry on a clean towel. Boil everything for at least ten minutes."

"Bulb syringe, plastic clips, shoelaces. Boil for ten minutes. I've got it."

"And call me back after you do those things."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Reynolds!" I holler. I put him to work finding clips and boiling a big pot of water.

The bulb syringe was right where mother said it was. I play with it for a minute to make sure I know how to use it.

My shoelaces look like crap. I look around the children's rooms, and decide Maggie has the cleanest, newest shoelaces. I pull them out of her shoes, and throw them into the pot with the kitchen shears. I shout hallelujah when Reynolds finds the clips.

It feels good to do something productive. It helps keep my worry at bay.

I fix Ana's tea and carry it into our room. She's propped up in bed, rubbing her belly, breathing through a contraction.

"Four minutes apart, but they're not too bad," she says.

"Spread your legs, baby." She's dilated to the width of three fingers. "I called Mother and she helped talk me through some things. I need to call her back. Do you feel up to seeing the kids?"

"Of course. Send them in."

"Do you need anything?" I rub her feet.

"Maybe send the kids with a banana and some ice chips. And you need to relax."

"It's all happening so fast, and we need to be ready."

"I need you here with me." Anastasia reaches for me, and I hold her tight.

"Only a couple more things to do. I love you, Mrs. Grey." I kiss her forehead.

"And I love you."

XXXXXXX

"How's Ana?" My mother asks. "And how are you?"

"We're both okay. Tell me what I need to know."

"Let Ana push spontaneously. Her body will tell her when to push. Let her soak in a warm bath, or put warm cloths on her perineum to prevent tearing. Perineal massage is also helpful."

Never did I think I'd be having this conversation with my mother.

"Ana wants to eat a banana. Is that advisable?"

"That's fine. Heavy food might make her feel queasy, but a banana is okay. Let Ana follow her instincts and dictate her own needs. Now unless there's an emergency, don't call again until my grandchild is born. Go be with Ana."

"Thanks, Mom…I love you."

"I love you, too." I gather up all the birthing supplies, put them into baggies, and arrange them on a tray. It's almost eight.

When I get back to our room, Maggie is feeding Ana the banana.

"That's enough, Mags," Ted tells her.

Ted's a bossy little control freak. I wonder where he gets that.

"Again," Ray says as he shoves a Curious George book at his mother.

Ana expels a large breath of air, and I know she's experiencing a contraction.

"Mommy needs rest," I tell Ray. "Take the book to Sawyer. He'll be happy to read it to you."

Maggie whines and clings to Ana.

"Kisses first," Ana tells the children, exchanging pecks with each. "Then go find Sawyer."

Ted takes over, leading his brother and sister out of the room. He may be bossy, but he's also helpful and responsible.

"Lock the door," Anastasia instructs me. "No more intruders until after our new one arrives."

"Mother said a warm soak would help prevent tearing. How about I run one for you?"

"Will you get in with me?"

"Of course." I'll never turn down a chance for tub time with my wife.

As the tub fills, I strip out of my clothes and help Ana with her gown. She emits a breathy groan.

"Did I hurt you?" I ask.

"No. The contractions have become more intense," she says, putting my hand on her belly.

"You're handling this well," I tell her. I'm so proud of her.

"It helps that I've been through this before."

"There's something to be said for home births," I say as I help her into the tub. "A hospital would never allow me to get naked in a tub with you during labor."

I slide in behind Ana, and rub circles on her belly.

Anastasia rolls her neck. She's having another contraction, and she's uncomfortable. I massage her shoulders.

"Feels nice," she says.

"I haven't been timing these, but they seem very close together."

"I need to get out of here. All of a sudden I feel like I need to push or pee or both. Can you look down there and see what's going on?"

I help her out of the bath, and wrap a towel around her. She gets on the toilet and empties her bladder.

I dry both of us off and we climb onto the bed. I look between her legs.

I can almost fit my fist into her vagina.

The irony isn't lost on me.

"It won't be long, baby. This is moving fast."

"Shit," she groans. "My back is killing me."

I rub her lower back, but she smacks my hand.

"Don't touch me," she says.

I recognize this. She got like this near the end of her other labors. I took it personally during Ted's birth, but now I know it's all part of the experience.

"Sorry, baby, what can I do for you?"

"Cover up that dick and keep it away from me," she answers. Neither of us put anything on after getting out of the bath. I pull on jeans and t-shirt, and watch helplessly as she pushes through a contraction.

She squats in the middle of the bed, and pushes three more times, grunting and groaning so loudly I wonder what the children must think.

"Let me check you, baby."

"No…need…to…push." She pushes long and hard, and then rolls onto her side. I can see our baby is crowning, and I realize I'm not ready for this.

I scramble for my supplies, and put towels down on the floor. Ana rises up to squat again.

"Get off the bed. Come down here. I'll catch the baby. You're only a couple of pushes away."

She doesn't want to get off the soft bed, but she loses her footing, and realizes the floor might be a better alternative.

I scoop her up and plop her onto the floor.

She pushes with everything she's got, and I watch as the baby turns.

"One more push," I tell her.

This time it's a low, deep grunt, and a short push.

Our baby arrives in a squirt, making a small splash landing, face down in my hands.

"It's a girl," I tell Ana. "She has your hair."

Ana flops down onto the floor on her side. She's an exhausted heap.

I use the bulb syringe, expecting our newborn will now take a breath, but she's silent and still. I'm in a panic. I don't know what to do.

Following my instincts, I lay her on her belly across my lap. I jiggle her gently and rub her back.

"Breathe. Breathe. C'mon, breathe for Daddy," I tell her.

Anastasia pushes up on an elbow, looks at me, then at our baby. Her eyes are wide with horror.

After what feels like an eternity, our daughter gasps her first breath, and lets loose a lusty cry. Ana falls back to the floor in tears.

"The baby's okay. I need your help," I tell Anastasia.

Ana opens her arms to receive our newborn, and I place our infant daughter on Ana's chest, for skin-to-skin contact. I need to get both of them under the covers and warm, but mother and baby are still attached.

"I'll cut the cord now," I tell Ana. I roll the baby on her side, take a deep breath and place one clamp about three inches from the baby's navel. Then I place another clamp about three inches above that.

I cut the cord with our other three children, but this is different. Tears well up as I cut through the tough, rubbery umbilicus.

Even with the towels I've put down, the hardwood floor is a bloody mess.

"I don't want to move until I deliver the placenta," Ana says. "Can you put a couple of pillows under my head? I want to see if she'll nurse."

I prop Ana up, and watch with pride as our daughter latches on to her mother's breast.

"Caroline?" I ask Anastasia.

"Yes, Caroline Mia Grey. Since she is born on Carrick's birthday, no one need know the true origin of her name. We'll tell everyone she was named after her grandfather."

"Well done, Mrs. Grey. Thank you. Another textbook delivery and another glorious little Grey."

"You could have been a doctor," she tells me. "You were very cool, calm, and collected. Thank you. All the births have been special, but this is my favorite, because it was just us two."

"Just us two plus four. I love you, baby."