Angela had instructed them to drive to the back entrance. When they arrived, it was evening, the sun had set, and the medical center looked a little strange with the only light coming from a few windows. She was waiting there with two wheelchairs, her expression apprehensive.
Angela ushered Jules to sit down. Yet, Jules, desperately clinging onto her last sense of independence before labor totally consumed her, brushed her off and attempted to march inside the clinic. It wasn't until Dr. Hesse forcefully redirected his daughter to the chair that she begrudgingly allowed herself to be carted around.
Jake, on the other hand, needed three people to get in it. Junior steadied the wheelchair while her parents took both of his arms and led him to the chair. By now, Jake was groaning through longer contractions, struggling to catch his breath after each one. He looked even weaker than he did when Junior first found him in the nursing room; she tried not to pay attention to the bloodstain that seemed to grow during their ride to the clinic.
Larry and Dr. Sneller were there, fully scrubbed, as soon as the elevator doors opened to the clinic's floor. Although Junior was sure Larry had coaxed Dr. Sneller and mentally prepared him for yet another intricate C-section, he still had to do a double take when he saw Jake.
"My God," his voice trailed off, eyes bulging.
"Trust me, whatever you're thinking, it's already been said," Larry rushed.
"I can't believe you pulled me out of retirement for these shenanigans again. I was minding my own business, wrapping up at hole 17 on the course when you –" Sneller reminisced, but his old partner cut him off.
"I know, I know, but this is my son, and you're the only person I can trust with this," Larry replied, exacerbated. Sneller shook his head, still incredulous, either because he was about to perform his second cesarean on a male patient, or because Jake's belly was that ginormous, or both.
They were pushing the wheelchairs at rapid speed, the doctors walking beside them. Larry turned to Junior and said, "The OR's prepped. I have two nurses, whom I trust with my own life, ready to help."
Junior nodded, not slowing down at all. "And Jules?"
"For Jules, since we don't know how far her labor has progressed, she'll be examined by one of the nurses. Then we'll go from there. Are you ok with that, Jules?" Larry asked.
"As long as I get that epidural, I don't care what you do with me," Jules grunted.
"Very well," Larry said as they approached the hall of patient rooms. "Our priority right now is Jake, but Louise is going to be with you the entire time, Jules. Ok? She's our clinic's most seasoned midwife."
"I promise I'm going to take good care of you, sugar," Louise said warmly, catching up next to Larry. Louise started out her career as Larry's trusted secretary. Later, she decided to pursue a nursing degree, most likely after witnessing Junior's birth, since she was one of the few people allowed to be there. Almost 25 years later, Louise remained a constant fixture at the clinic, sometimes delivering babies of patients she herself had delivered many years ago, as she would that evening with Jules. Despite moving to California at a young age, she never lost her trademark Brooklyn accent; her patients thought it was incredibly endearing. Her normally untamed curly hair, which had turned grey over the years, hid behind a surgical hair cap.
Jules nodded, with slight trepidation. Louise took control of her wheelchair and lead her to an exam room, with Diana, Angela, and one of the nurses following her. She turned back to look at Junior, to which she offered a small smile in an attempt to mask the fear she felt.
"We need to get Jake prepped for surgery. Undress him," Larry ordered, and Junior complied. In the OR, one nurse immediately began taking off Jake's shoes and socks. Junior carefully removed Jake's undershirt, leaving his entire belly exposed in all of its swollen and globular glory.
Once she did this, Dr. Sneller looked up from organizing his surgical instruments to take a long hard look at Jake. Although his mask covered most of his face, it was undeniable that he was beyond perplexed.
"Larry, you didn't tell me we would be delivering multiples. I don't think I'm equipped to handle that kind of surgery," he said wearily, his eyes still locked on Jake's abdomen.
It was then that Jake found the energy to speak up: "Not multiples… I'm carrying.. out in front."
Dr. Hesse, who was helping the nurses prepare the epidural, couldn't help but chuckle at Dr. Sneller's comment. "That's not the first time he's been startled by a big belly."
Larry approached his son, and leaned in very close to his face in a caring, endearing way that only a father could demonstrate.
"Hey champ," he said gently. "We're gonna give you an epidural. You won't feel a thing, ok? I'm going to take care of you. But I need you to get on the exam table and sit as still as possible. I'm going to need you to do that for me, ok?"
Jake nodded sluggishly, but as Junior watched the two interact, she realized how impossible that would be for Jake, who barely had the strength to sit upright in the wheelchair. Both Larry and Junior took an arm, but Jake's knees immediately began to buckle. It wasn't until Dr. Hesse and the nurse rushed to them that they were able to get him on the exam table.
"You can do this," Junior whispered, her face mere centimeters from Jake. She had prepared for her role to support Jake as he got his epidural. She positioned herself in front of him, watching as the nurse sterilized his back. From the corner of her eye, however, she saw Larry and Dr. Sneller exchange worried glances. Even their masks couldn't muffle their concerned tones.
"This is worse than I anticipated," Larry murmured to his surgical partner, but Junior heard every word.
She shook them off, and continued to stay close to Jake. He was leaning against her shoulder, moaning softly. She rubbed his shoulders, saying "You can do this" to him over and over again.
"Junior, it's best if you leave," Larry said to her.
"I'm not going anywhere," she said firmly.
"I know you want to stay with Jake, but it's best for him and the baby if you wait outside," he pleaded.
"I said I'm not going anywhere! I can't leave him again! I'm not going to leave him alone and I just can't!" Junior shouted, not caring that the sheer volume of her voice disrupted the otherwise sterile and stoic flow of the room.
"Listen," Larry's voice grew deeper. "This is a risky surgery. We don't know what Quentin put in his body to make him react this way. We need to clear out the room. I promise I will take care of my son and my grandchild."
"He can't be alone," Junior was crying at this point. "He can't be—"
Just then, Jake lifted his head in a moment of clarity, looked directly into Junior's eyes, and then puked all over the floor and Junior's shoes. The violence of this action forced tears into Jake's eyes and removed the last string of strength he was holding on to. The sound of retching was equally terrifying and heartbreaking.
"I'm sorry," Jake whispered, and slumped over.
"Hey, son, it's ok. That happens all the time," Dr. Hesse finally stepped in, and began wiping Jake's face. He talked to Jake as if he were a child. Everyone tending to Jake was so gentle, it made Junior feel sorry for him. Dr. Hesse was still looking at Jake, smiling to ease the shame of vomiting publicly, but spoke directly to Junior. "He's not alone. I'm going to be with him the entire time. Junior, move so we can continue with the surgery."
Although she refused to acknowledge Larry's point or her father's offer, she knew, deep inside, that they were right. She kissed Jake on the forehead once, and whispered into his ear, "I love you so much" before back peddling out of the room. Instantly, Dr. Hesse resumed the same position she had just prior, but with his stature and strength, Jake already looked more secure.
She walked out of the operating room before the first sob escaped her mouth, though she was only alone for a few moments. Louise stuck her head outside of her room, and her eyes melted with relief.
"There you are," she sighed, reassured. "Jules has been asking for you nonstop. Come in here."
Still slightly stunned by the chaos that unfolded in Jake's operating room, it took Junior a few seconds to adjust to the new predicament that was happening with Jules.
Her sister was wearing a starchy hospital gown, which Junior knew probably upset her because her birth plan included a designer hospital gown. She was currently rocking from side to side on a giant medicine ball, with her arms resting on the hospital bed. Her face was ruddy, and her normally perfectly tousled hair was piled on top of her head in a lopsided bun. Junior initially thought that her sister was moaning through the pain, but then realized that she was sobbing, uncontrollably.
Junior couldn't believe how much had changed in a matter of minutes. Even though every ounce of her being wanted to be with Jake to comfort him during his surgery, she knew she would make the biggest difference here.
She immediately pulled up a chair behind her sister and applied counter pressure on her lower back. Angela and Diana were on either side of her. Junior had prepared to be the most supportive partner during labor, but she always thought it would be with Jake.
"Jules, you're doing great," she murmured, then turned to Louise. "How much longer until the epidural takes effect?"
When she asked that question, it only made Jules cry even harder.
"She's too far into labor. There isn't enough time to give her an epidural," Louise replied, her voice commanding and even. "Jules, your body was built to do this. You're surrounded by strong women who are here to support you and bring your baby into this world."
Jules, still rocking on the medicine ball, only shook her head and continued to weep.
"This wasn't my plan," she bawled. "Connor isn't answering my calls, and it hurts too much. Let me have a C-section, I don't care anymore."
"Yes, you do," Junior asserted. "Jules, look at me."
Jules turned her head. Mascara streamed down her face like a spilled ink bottle.
"You should be with Jake," she groaned.
"That's the thing, Jules, I can't," Junior retorted. "His surgery is risky and incredibly dangerous. I don't know if he or the baby will be ok. There's a chance I could lose both of them."
She paused, making sure that Jules knew the seriousness of her words, then continued.
"That's why I need you to be strong. Because I know you can be. Because I've been dying to meet my nephew. Because you're my little sister, and God only knows where I would be without you."
Louise, who had been checking Jules's charts, turned to Junior. "It's time to push."
"Did you hear that, Jules? We're going to meet your son! Let's get you on the bed, ok?" Junior let the genuine excitement show in her voice.
She nodded at Louise, who came up behind her with Diana and Angela. Junior took her sister's hands and lead her onto the bed while the mothers supported her from behind. Before Junior was able to move out of the way, Jules had already rested her back against her sister's chest, huffing.
"Oh," Jules exhaled. "That helps. With the pressure."
"Is this..?" Junior looked to Louise for guidance.
"Absolutely, a lot of people sit behind their partners. As long as Jules is comfortable. Are you doing ok, Jules?" Louise asked.
"Please don't leave me," Jules whispered.
"I won't," Junior replied, with the protectiveness only a big sister could truly emulate. "I'm here for you. I always have been. I'm here."
Diana and Angela each grabbed one of Jules's legs, and Louise pulled a stool in the middle.
"All right, Jules," Louise said. "Let's celebrate a birthday today."
…
In a room only a few yards away, Jake felt fuzzy. Heavy, since he couldn't feel his legs. Yet weightless at the same time; it was such a relief not to feel those crippling contractions anymore. The overhead light nearly blinded him, so he tried to move his eyes away. Something, perhaps the curious part of him, was telling him to look down at the lower half of his body, but someone quickly cupped his chin in their hands.
"Hey, look at me, Jake. You're doing great," Dr. Hesse said, his eyes looking directly into his. "Focus on your breathing. Focus on the baby. Think about tiny baby feet, toothless grins, those cute little yawns."
"Yessir," Jake's words slurred. Even in his drugged state, he still held deference for his girlfriend's father.
Dr. Hesse's mouth was covered by a mask, but Jake could still tell that his comment made the old man smile.
"That's not what I want the grandkids to call me," he chuckled. "I was thinking Pop, or maybe—"
The thought was interrupted by a shrill beeping sound coming from one of the machines.
"Control the bleeding."
"There's something stuck."
"I can't find the source."
"It's all tangled."
Dr. Sneller and Larry were saying these statements in a short, abrupt manner, it was hard for Jake to keep track. The weightlessness he was experiencing persisted, and suddenly the commotion of the day caught up with him. He just wanted to take a nap. He was nine months pregnant, after all.
"Jake, stay with me!" Dr. Hesse ordered.
"What's… happening?" Jake's voice faded as the beeping continued.
"C'mon, stay with me!" he snapped, and brought his face even closer to Jake's. Now, the only thing in Jake's field of vision were Dr. Hesse's deep, imploring eyes. They looked so familiar.
"Junior?" Jake murmured, and finally allowed the weightlessness to take over. He was just so tired.
…
They had been pushing for almost an hour now, and were nearing the end. By now, Junior's entire body was soaked with sweat (she would never wear these shoes or pants again), and it almost felt as if she and Jules were one person.
"Jules, sweetie, I need one big push and then we'll see his head, ok?" Louise coached, she, too, fully immersed in the experience.
"Okay," Jules panted, and strained her back against Junior's chest as she let out a blood-curdling scream.
"That's perfect!" Diana squealed. "I can see him! He has blonde hair, Jules!"
"He does?" Jules replied breathlessly, her body slumped.
"I'm going to need another one. I know you can do it," Louise encouraged.
"I need a break, give me a minute," she whispered, and closed her eyes.
"No, now!" Junior yelled at her sister. The urgency was almost unbearable to her.
"I'm so tired," Jules said, leaning even farther into Junior. "Please."
Just as Louise was about to bark another order, the doors burst open. Connor, clad in a tailored suit with his sandy hair tugged in several directions, ran into the room.
"Jules! Jules, I'm so sorry!" he apologized, clearly looking haggard. "I didn't have any cellphone reception at the retreat. I hopped in my car as soon as my secretary told me the news. I'm here now."
"Connor," Jules replied weakly, and lifted her head to give her husband a kiss.
"You're just in time, Dad," Louise said warmly. "We just need two more pushes and then you can meet your son."
This announcement only added to Junior's adrenaline. But seeing Connor there made her feel incredibly out of place.
"Here, Jules, let me move so you and Connor can –" she began, but was interrupted by her sister for the zillionth time that day.
"Don't you dare move," Jules hissed. She took a deep breath, and nodded. "I'm ready."
"One, two, three. Good, that's good!" Louise exclaimed, all while Jules yelled at the top of her lungs.
"Give us one more, Jules!" Junior shouted, and then her body was instantly being crushed as Jules unleashed her final, life-changing push.
It wasn't the sound of the baby's first cries that made Junior begin to weep. Rather, once Jules had successfully pushed the baby out, with Louise holding up his pink, squirmy body up like a trophy, Junior looked around the room. Her mom, who was placed on this earth to love, was beaming with adoration. Angela, who in many ways was more of a surrogate mother than family friend, marveled at this miracle with tears streaming down her face.
And as Junior looked down at her sister, who brought her hands to her mouth in utter splendor, transformed into a whole, complete person right in front of her. Jules would always be Junior's little sister, someone she would look after and feel protective over. But now, Jules' life was inextricably tied to someone who would always need her, whose life would always be prioritized over her own. Jules became a mother.
That was when Junior began to cry.
"Hi! Oh my gosh, it's you. I love you, I love you so much," Jules repeated, and gasped as they placed her son in her arms. "Look at him, Junior."
"He's perfect," Junior croaked. She swore she would never be one of those people who thought newborns looked cute, when in reality they looked more like pruney knockoff Cabbage Patch dolls. But she meant every word she said when she locked eyes with her nephew.
"A.J.?" Jules looked up at her husband, as if they were solidifying a business deal.
"He's definitely our A.J." Connor cooed, and leaned in closer to take a glimpse at their son.
"I thought you were going to name him Dursley?" Junior asked, partially hoping that would be true since she had already bought them a monogramed sleeping sack, though personally she hated the name.
"We were thinking," Jules began, stroking the baby's cheek with her knuckle, "that there was a more meaningful name for him."
"Alexander, after your dad, will be his first name," Connor said, gazing at his wife. "Because we wanted to honor someone with strength."
"And for his middle name," Jules paused to look at her sister. "Jacob, after a man who taught us so much about selflessness, and compassion."
With the mere mentioning of Jake's name, Junior was immediately overcome with emotion. In the frenzy of Jules's delivery, she had managed to push the stresses of Jake's own labor into the back of her mind. Now they were immediate, pressing, and crushing the joy that had previously occupied that moment.
She kissed her sister on the cheek, the only way she could express her gratitude; words would not suffice. Then, from the corner of her eye, Junior saw that Larry was waiting in the back of the room, against the wall. She had no idea how long he was standing there. Junior could see sweat staining the chest and sleeves of his scrubs, and if she wasn't mistaken, there were tears in his eyes.
She had no idea how to read the expression on his face.
Slowly, she slid off of the bed, not caring in the slightest that she was covered in sweat, vomit, and smudges of blood. As soon as Larry locked eyes with her, he tilted his head towards the door, and they exited the room.
Junior pressed one hand against the hallway, worried that the news, whatever it may be, would cause her to faint.
"Junior," Larry said hoarsely. His big brown eyes were soft; she read that as pity.
"Just give it to me straight," she blurted, unable to handle the uncertainty anymore. Larry drew in a quick breath.
"The surgery took a lot longer than expected. You were right, several of his organs were hemorrhaging. It made it nearly impossible to get the baby out. We even lost Jake for a second on the table," Larry said slowly, his voice full of remorse.
"Dr. Arbogast," Junior gasped, already feeling her knees buckle, but Larry quickly grabbed her arms, steadying her.
"He's stable. Jake lost a lot of blood, and he's out of it. It'll take him a long time to recover, but he's going to be okay," he said, still looking directly at Junior. He moved his hand to her shoulder, and squeezed it. Although somewhat relieved, she was still in shock.
"Junior, would you like to meet your daughter?"
It was as if that sentence alone stopped time. Junior placed a hand on her heart, speechless, only able to nod, and it was then that Larry unfolded his big, beaming grin: a new grandparent. He guided her to one of the patient rooms, giving her a near-suffocating hug before he opened the door.
"Congrats, Mom," he whispered. She couldn't think of a response; in a way, the title "Mom" still meant nothing to her, this whole night was surreal. Dr. Arbogast gave her one more smile, and was about to nudge her into the room.
"Wait," Junior said haltingly. Just as Larry began to give her a confused look, she enveloped him in another hug. Not as tight, but they held each other for several meaningful seconds. "Thank you, Dr. Arbogast, thank you."
"Junior-," he began.
"You're the reason he's alive. I mean, without you, there would be no us. There would be no baby. I don't know how to thank you, Dr. Arbogast. Thank you."
Junior gave him another hug, and when they pulled away from each other, she saw that he was smiling, softly.
"Junior, stop calling me Dr. Arbogast. And I'm not some miracle worker," he said gently. "You can call me 'Grandpa'. Now go see your little girl."
And with that, he turned on his heels, and casually walked down the hallway, whistling "I've Got You Under My Skin", as if nothing about this evening was out of the ordinary. This, Junior realized, was an everyday thing for him. Bringing life into this world, changing the lives of people, of parents.
Dr. Arbogast, now a new grandfather, performed miracles every day.
In comparison to the screaming, cooing, and tears that were flowing in Jules's room, this one was eerily quiet. Chaos could not touch the serenity that was evident in this room. There was a rocking chair, a patient bed, and a pitcher of water resting on a nightstand. The only light came from a bedside lamp, which made some things difficult to see.
But the person sleeping on the single patient bed was indisputably Jake. His mile-long legs tucked underneath the thin blanket, toes poking out. He looked deep in slumber: arms resting by his sides, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, lips barely parted. Junior was always amused by Jake's sleeping mannerisms; he always looked like he was perplexed, deep in thought. Her father slept the same way, and now she wondered if their sleep was forever plagued by worrying about their daughters.
Her eyes lingered on him for a bit, until a soft noise distracted her. In the hazy glow of the room, Junior noticed a hospital bassinet just a few feet from where Jake was sleeping. An indescribable gravitational force pulled her to the tiny sound that came from it.
She peered into the bassinet, and what she saw took her breath away.
I have a daughter, Junior thought to herself, marveling at the tiny human being that was in the middle of letting out a big (well, big for her size) yawn. She watched as her delicate, fragile fingers wrapped around an invisible object, testing her dexterity for the first time. She was just as pink as A.J., and even more wrinkly, but the sentiment still stood: She was perfect.
Even as Junior continued to gape at this baby, all she saw was Jake. She had his nose, his long limbs, his dark hair that poked from her knit cap. Even the way she pursed her lips: all Jake. She was lost in this beautiful spectacle until a throaty voice spoke from behind her.
"You know, you can hold her. She's yours, too."
Junior turned around, and smiled.
"Did I wake you?" she whispered, barely able to contain the happiness she felt knowing he was here, awake, and safe.
"Bring her here," he said, a grin slowly unfolding.
As Junior cautiously scooped the baby in her arms, she couldn't believe how small she was, how inherently breakable this pocket-sized human felt. She slowly made it to the bed, counting each step. Jake patted the vacant spot on his bed, and Junior proceeded to curl up next to him, feeling his brawny arm pull her in closer.
"Is she…?" Junior lost her train of thought as she felt the softness of her baby's skin with her fingertips.
"Perfectly healthy," Jake stated proudly. "Ten fingers, ten toes. Five pounds, 14 ounces. She's perfect."
"You're telling me that she was only responsible for six pounds of that big belly of yours?" Junior joked, then looked into his beautiful blue eyes. "I'm so proud of you. You did it. I will never be able to thank you for this."
It was true. Junior looked at this baby, this gift, and felt so undeserving. Jake did the hard work of carrying her for nine months, allowing his body to transform into a planet, and then enduring the life-threatening delivery. She struggled to think of any contribution she made to this, besides her own genes. But Junior vowed to cherish this little girl for the rest of her days.
"It wasn't that big of a deal," he said. Even after this harrowing day, Jake was still able to find his charming humor.
"And you, oh my gosh, how are you feeling? Are you ok?" she asked.
He took a moment. Jake's voice then became thick, and his breath hitched. "I'm so happy Junior. I'm just so happy."
She leaned in to kiss him lightly, tasting the salt of the tears that escaped his eyes. They stared at their daughter, incredulous, for several minutes.
"You know," Jake began, bringing Jules even closer, "I always thought that after I gave birth, I would feel this emptiness. I grew so accustomed to having her with me, at all times. It really was just the two of us for the longest time. But seeing you with her, all of us together, I finally feel complete, Junior. This is it."
Now, Junior let the tears flow freely, and returned to looking at their daughter. Her eyes opened, just slightly, and in the light, Junior began to see glimpses of her own features. She had Junior's eyebrows, left dimple, heart-shaped face, even her narrow fingernails.
"She's ours," Junior mused, and slowly kissed Jake's lips. "What are we going to name her?"
"I think that was decided a long time ago," Jake grinned, and kissed her again.
"Hi, Jordan," she cooed, "Jordan, I'm your mom. I've dreamed of meeting you for such a long time. I love you so much, Jordan."
"And I love you so much," Jake whispered, resting his head against hers.
They remained there, for quite some time, relishing in their love, savoring their first few moments as a family, marveling at this beautiful life they created.
*Stay tuned for the epilogue!*