After getting off the phone with Juan, I called my doctor to let her know that I was headed for the hospital, and then Brie, Skye and Tara all helped me into the passenger seat of the Cutlass. Brie and Skye climbed into the back and Tara got behind the wheel to drive to St. Thomas. I was suffering through another contraction when she pulled the car to a stop, but by the time the three of them came around the car, Brie and Skye coming to help me get out while Tara ran inside to get a wheelchair and alert them that we'd arrived, it had passed. I heard the motorcycles as they were helping me sit in the wheelchair and I looked up to see my husband, Tig and Rat pull into the parking lot.
Since they were having the party, I'd told everyone else who'd been at my house for the baby shower to go ahead and go to the clubhouse and we'd let them know when something happened, but I noticed that Juan wasn't the only one who'd had followers coming with him to the hospital. Another car had pulled in, and I saw that Venus, Brooke, Lyla and Wendy were here as well. I smiled to myself, holding up my hand and telling them to wait as my husband got off his bike and ran over to me, Tig and Rat following closely behind. "Hap is blacking out Jax's ink. Chibs is packing up a cooler. Everyone else is going to be coming shortly," he greeted me, gave me a quick kiss and took his place behind the wheelchair, directing it (and me) inside.
Smiling, I looked back over my shoulder at Tig and said hi to him and Rat. "Hey baby girl. How you doing?" Tig mussed my hair and I stuck my tongue out at him, my natural sarcasm taking over as I said I was fantastic. "You can't be doing that bad. You've still got that sharp tongue," he teased and I laughed for a moment before doubling over with the pain of another contraction. I held my hand up and Juan put his hand in mine, letting me squeeze his tightly until the pain passed. I didn't hear anything being said until it was over and I realized he had pushed me up to the front desk and we were waiting for the nurse to come get us and take us to my labor and delivery room.
A few minutes later Juan, Tara and I left everyone else in the waiting room. She wanted to be in the room when I was checked so she could give reports back to everyone. I wanted her to be able to keep everyone updated so Juan wouldn't have to leave my side at all. I stripped off my clothes when I was in my room, putting on the hospital gown and sitting back on the bed. I let them attach me to the fetal monitors and put my feet in the stirrups when they came in to check me. "You're already seven centimeters dilated, dear. Should only be a few more hours. I'll come back and check you again soon," I heard the words, meeting Tara's gaze as she shook her head.
Deciding against the epidural, I told them just to give me some pain meds for the contractions and they hooked me up to an IV so they could do that, and Tara went out to update everyone in the waiting room, promising she'd be back soon. I had another contraction as the door was closing behind her, and squeezed Juan's hand. I could barely make out him saying comforting things to me, but the pain wasn't as bad as it had been. The meds in my IV were already working, and I was definitely thankful for that. The pain in my back was lessening, too, but not much. I knew that the meds were only going to take the edge off, not completely kill the pain, so I was just thankful for any lessening at all.
Honestly, I don't know who it was worse for. Yes, I was in physical pain. I kept cursing my husband, telling him we were never going to fuck again, or telling him that he was getting a vasectomy. I threatened to get my tubes tied. I said a lot of mean things, honestly, I lost track, but he took every abusive word I threw at him. I knew he would have taken the pain if he could. I held on to his hand only for the hours we were by ourselves. I knew he wanted to rub my back, but I couldn't handle any other physical contact. I didn't like people touching me when I was in pain any more than necessary. It was hard for me to even squeeze onto his hand, but we both needed it. He needed to feel like he was doing something to make it better for me, and a small part of me felt a little bit better because I was able to hold his hand.
As promised, Tara came in every thirty minutes or so, usually when the nurse was coming in to check on me, so she could get a report from me and the nurse at the same time and go update everyone. I was glad to see her every once in a while, but I was definitely sure of my decision to have only my husband be in the room with me the whole time. I didn't like people seeing me in pain, physical or mental, so it was nice to only have to pretend for only a few minutes at a time. I knew that they knew I was in pain, but I had to keep my composure anyway, and I was able to, but only for a few minutes at a time, just long enough for them to come in, get an update and go out again.
At about 15 minutes to 11, the nurse told me Dr. Greene was coming in, because it was almost time to push. I was glad for the timing, because they had refused to give me another dose of the pain meds at 10:30 because they knew it was going to be time soon, and they were starting to wear off, so I was ready to get this over with as quickly as possible. My doctor and Tara entered the room together, both in scrubs. Tara must have changed since the last time she'd been in the room. A few nurses followed, with bassinets to put the babies in once they'd been weighed and measured and cleaned.
Taking her spot between my legs, Dr. Greene told me it was time to start pushing, and Tara and Juan both encouraged me as Dr. Greene directed me for an hour before Michael Anthony joined us at 11:54 pm, weighing 5 pounds, 3 ounces and measuring 18 inches in length. His cry echoed through the room and Juan cut the cord before our son was placed on my chest. I looked down at our boy and I could see both of us in his face. He had my nose, but Juan's eyes, my ears and Juan's mouth. I held him for a few moments before they took him to clean him up, because I needed to push out his sister.
At exactly 12:02 am, Evelyn Marie joined our family, weighing 4 pounds, 15 ounces and measuring 17 inches long, and I had to laugh. She looked exactly like me. I could see it as soon as they handed her to me. She was going to be my mini-me, and obviously she had my stubborn streak, too, because she had to wait until she had her own birthday before she made her appearance. To get a jumpstart on breastfeeding, as soon as my babies were returned to me, I got them each to latch onto a breast, and I let them eat while Tara went to change and then update the others.
In perfect timing, the babies had just finished eating, and I'd handed Evelyn over to Juan when the door cracked open and we were transferred to the room I would be staying the next couple nights in until we were released from the hospital. "You know; they make the pain worth it. We can do this again," I said to Juan, looking up from Evelyn's face to meet his gaze as we waited for Tara to bring everyone else in to meet the babies. He was holding Michael and perched on the edge of the bed next to me.
Cocking an eyebrow, he shook his head. "I'm not sure anymore. Six weeks of no sex while your stitches heal? I don't think you'll ever let me knock you up again if it means we have to go that long without sex, angel," he teased me and I stuck my tongue out at him, reaching up to rub my eyebrow with my middle finger, but my retort was cut off when the door opened and Tara led everyone else into the room. Skye and Brie immediately pushed past her, Skye coming to my side to take Evelyn from my arms, and Brie taking Michael from Juan.
Everyone ooh'ed and ahh'ed over the babies and they all took turns holding them before they were kicked out because it was after hours. They were only allowed in for a short time because Tara had talked Margaret Murphy into letting it slide. Margaret knew they weren't going anywhere until they saw us, so she had agreed to let them have a brief visit. Everyone said they'd be back tomorrow to visit and Tara closed the door behind them as they all left. I was starting to get tired anyway, so I was kind of glad it was so late. It was already almost 1. I knew we were going to get woken up at least once, so I wanted us both to get some sleep.
My husband refused to leave. I had already spoken to my boss, who'd given me the okay, so I'd been given a room that had two beds, because it was normally for two people, and he was sleeping on one while I slept on the other. I hated sleeping in separate beds, though, so he had moved the bed over so it was right next to mine, so we could still sleep together, as long as we were careful not to fall between the beds. The babies were in their bassinets and we all settled in to get some sleep. Which lasted about 3 hours before they woke me up to feed them. Juan woke up with me, even though he didn't have to, and we both stared down at our babies as they each latched onto one of my boobs.
Tilting my head so I could look at my husband, I smiled. "You know, we make some pretty beautiful babies," I said, stretching my neck so I could reach his mouth to give him a kiss without disturbing the babies. He agreed, telling me it was because they had a beautiful mother. "Please. Evelyn may look just like me, but Michael here is about 70% you, and he is just as beautiful, so it's not just me. We make them together, same way we do everything else," I insisted and he laughed, nodding, but didn't say anything else, looking down at the twins instead.
When they were finished eating, we settled them back in their bassinets. I had nothing against co-sleeping, the same way I didn't have anything against formula fed babies. I just couldn't sleep with my baby in the same bed. I would be up all night constantly worried I was going to roll over onto them, or something. Juan agreed. We knew different methods worked for different people, so we were going to do what worked for us. I hated the way some people bashed parents when they don't do the same exact things for their children. Each case is different. There is no single right way to raise a child. Every family has to do what works for them. The world would be a better place if people stopped judging others for their differences and just focused on living their own life, in my opinion, anyway. I just knew one thing as I thought of my family: I would always do whatever I thought was best for my children and my husband, whether people were going to judge me for it or not.
A/N: I really meant to post this on Sunday, but I threw out my back so that kinda distracted me for a few days. Next chapter is the last, and I'll try to post it as soon as I can. I really do hope my muse will come back, but I'm not betting on it, so after the final chapter of this part, y'all might not hear from me for a while. I'm sorry. I hope y'all like this chapter. Thanks to everyone who reads my work and especially thanks to those who take the time to review. Every review really means a lot to me. I appreciate it so much.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.