Disclaimer: I don't own.
A/N: Soo, once again I must say that I've never given birth, so this is my best attempt. Forgive me the inaccuracies. Thanks again to JBCC for helping me and inspiring a moment. Also, it was never my intention to have the birth on Mother's Day, but I'll take the credit anyway... which reminds me:
Happy Mother's Day! to all the mother's out there. :) We had the kids at my daycare plant flowers in little paper mache cups with pictures on them with a little sign that said 'My Love For You Grows and Grows! Happy Mother's Day!' but, of course, the flowers hadn't grown yet because although we gave dads two weeks to come in and do it with their kids, the ones that came at all, came on the last day. So I had a bunch of one year olds giving their moms cups of dirt and saying "Mommy! Dirt!" ...Grr. :) I, however, did not give my mom or my future mother-in-law dirt. So I felt good about that.
Enjoy!
Chapter Fifty Nine:
It was horrible.
I had gone into the room thinking that I was extremely pain tolerant… a survivor, my whole life long. I could do this whole labor thing like nobody's business, because I was used to pain.
I was begging for my epidural by noon, and had been up and down, walking most of the morning, but I was apparently still only just a centimeter dilated, so they didn't want to do it early. Every part of me ached—but my back was the worst. Jace offered to give me a massage first, but I refused when I saw the look on Gil's face… when Gil offered an hour later, I said I was fine, because I was trying to balance on a tightrope between them. By one thirty, I had given up on that idea—I told them together that I was cashing in, and expected a good fifteen minutes from both of them.
It seemed to make neither of them happy, but I was beyond caring and it hadn't even gotten bad yet. I'd been warned that as it was my first child, it would take a long time, but this was getting really effing ridiculous.
Around two thirty, the contractions seemed like they sped up of their own accord—they were coming more often and more predictably, and they last longer. Gil, who was on the side of the bed with the pager button, called someone in to check whether I could have the epidural yet… we were told 'soon,' at which point I cursed the poor woman out of the room.
Jace and Gil both looked alarmed, although I caught the hint of a smirk from both of them… which only made me more upset. I was being ripped apart from the inside, and they thought my anger was amusing.
They gave me the epidural at four, and I took a short nap, relieved to have a moment free of pain—I should have worried how Gil and Jace would interact, stuck in the room while I slept… but I couldn't and I didn't. I saw my doctor for the first time just before five—Dr. Blake. She bustled in, apologizing for not having been there sooner, although I had been warned that my doctor might not be very present… apparently Dr. Blake was a doctor who tried to check in throughout the entire labor, but she'd had another woman go into labor three weeks early first thing this morning, so she'd been detained.
She greeted me amiably and Jace cordially, and then introduced herself to Gil with a sort of knowing expression, as if she finally understood the dynamic between me and my husband to some extent—after all, she had been the one stressing my right to include or disclude anyone I wanted. She looked over the charts and the readouts, said everything looked good, and checked my progress—six centimeters. She said we were moving right along and that I was doing great, and then excused herself.
I was starving, so they brought me clear broth, a biscuit, and Jell-O. The smell of the broth turned my stomach, so I ate Jell-O and my plain, boring, tasteless biscuit with a scowl the entire time, which made both men smirk again. Really, it wasn't funny—they each took a turn stepping out of the room, and though neither would tell me so, I was certain they'd gone to the cafeteria and had a sandwich out of my sight… especially since Jace came back with tiny piece of something between two of his teeth and Gil came back with a fresh stain on his shirt—mayo, if I had to guess.
Some CSI—he was not so good at hiding evidence.
At six thirty it felt like things were picking up again—I couldn't feel any pain, but I could feel the pressure that came with each contraction and it lasted and lasted… and then Dr. Blake was back, checking my progress, telling me that I was just about at nine centimeters and that Ayla was coming—That was something I had always liked about the woman: Once she knew the name we'd picked, she referred to her that way. Despite the epidural, I started to feel a little bit of pain at this point, especially when it seemed like there was hardly any break between contractions, if I got one at all. I mean, it was better than it had been, but it was decidedly present.
"You have to push with the contractions, Sara." Jace advised.
"Go to fucking hell!" I politely refused.
"Let's breathe together, honey," Gil suggested, trying to assist.
"Are you going to share the pain and push something this size out of your vagina?!" I asked. "No? Well then I think I'm doing just fine on my own." I assured him, with nothing short of absolute grace and poise.
Dr. Blake seemed to find great humor in the entire situation, chuckling at my responses, and though I had begrudged Gil and Jace their smirks, I didn't hold the woman's laughter against her—I had seen the pictures in her office… she was a mother of four. She understood.
I was sweating, pushing with my contractions, thankful my medication had been increased a little, and when Dr. Blake announced, "She's crowning!" I wasn't sure whether to cry in amazement or happiness or relief—but I did start crying.
Both men rushed to see, and I tugged them both back impatiently—Jace had not seen between my legs in months, and there was no reason for it to start now… and Gil would be leaving again in a day, without seeing between them before he did… I wanted the memory he took with him to be from the night before rather than of… this. I mean, sure, they were probably already seeing a lot more than I would have liked… but I wanted to prevent this particular moment, if I could. I had seen enough live birth videos to know that it was horrifying.
Dr. Blake grinned up at me—"Do you want to feel it, Sara?"
I blinked in confused, half-delirious, certain I had misunderstood. "…Now?"
She chuckled again, "Give me your hand…"
I gave it to her, stretching up a little to facilitate the encounter… "Oh my god." Tears were streaming as I ran my hand over the hair-covered hair that was literally coming out of me. I had made her… she was mine.
When the next contraction came I was snapped out of my moment of shock, hands finding their way back to my nontraditional birth partners. With a grunt of pain and a gasp of exhaustion I pushed harder, Dr. Blake announcing, "That's it! Her head is out! …The shoulders now, Sara…"
"Oh fuck, are you kidding me?!" I wailed, slamming my head into the pillow and feeling my back arch as another contraction moved through me. Despite being exhausted and emotional and so ready to be done… I took a deep breath and pushed with each contraction, panting and gasping and sweating and wanting to have my Ayla in my arms as soon as possible.
With half a scream, my nails digging into the hands of both men, I felt her slide free and Dr. Blake say something about her being out. I collapsed on the bed, hardly aware of anything after that—not the Apgar scoring or the cutting of the cord or the delivery of the placenta—all I know is that when I heard her cry, I allowed myself to relax, knowing that she was okay. When Dr. Blake handed her to me, she still had vernix in her hair—and she had a surprising amount of short, damp, dark curls on her head—her head was slightly oblong, and her eyes were the brightest of blues.
I gasped softly—she was so beautiful. I felt the world around me fundamentally shift—I had thought, previously, that she was my whole world… and now, I knew, that she hadn't been… because something within me changed, looking into her eyes. Now, she was everything. I would absolutely do anything for this beautiful little being. "Oh, Ayla…" I said, in a hushed, desperate whisper, tears falling beyond my control, fast and silent, no doubt leaving streaks across my sweaty face.
Dr. Blake told me she'd had perfect scores… she was 20 inches long, 7.3 pounds… and then left to give us a moment.
Gil and Jace were at my sides, looking into her face, and I knew they were eager to hold her. I hesitated, glancing between them, once against worrying about the delicate balance—Gil solved my problem. "…Let her Dad hold her first." He said, and though I detected the pain at the admission in his voice, it was well-hidden. I kissed her brow and passed her to Jace and turned to Gil—I couldn't help it, I kissed him desperately. "…I can't believe it." I shook my head.
He beamed. "You were amazing, honey…"
Gil got to hold her next, and though my interaction with Jace while Gil cooed to the tiny infant was different, it was just as heartfelt.
"…She's so beautiful." He said, after passing her to Gil with frown on his face. I sighed softly, exhausted and surprisingly, hungry.
"She is. …Does anyone in your family have blue eyes?"
He chuckled, tucking a strand of sweaty hair over my ear. "No, but genes are funny like that. …Besides, they can change color up to a year, can't they?"
"Mmm," I said, uncertain. I didn't want them to change—rationally, I knew that there wasn't any of Gil in her, but I liked the idea that some of her would look like him.
"…What should her middle name be? Ayla what?"
Gil sat down beside me, passing her back, and I sighed in happiness—the brief moments of separation had felt like an eternity after having her inside me for so long. I pressed her close to me. Gil didn't give input, as he had picked her first name, though Jace didn't know that. Jace made a suggestion, although with an awkward look on his face, like he was struggling to say it in front of Gil. He took my hand, "I… I was thinking… Sara. …I know you've never liked the idea of making a child a 'junior,' but if it's just her middle name… I think she should have the name of… the only woman I've ever loved."
His voice rings with sincerity and insecurity, admitting this in front of the man I've openly admitted I now love instead of him. I swallow, biting my lip, while Gil looks away—he's in a tough position. He doesn't technically get a say, although he has been included in this as if he ought to have an equal say. He's also suggested giving her my name as her middle name, in the past, yet he doesn't want to give Jace the satisfaction or the brownie points.
I sighed. I hadn't given a single thought to her middle name other than to tell Gil that I didn't want her named after me, but all of a sudden, I knew without a doubt what I wanted it to be—but it would take some convincing of the two men beside me.
"…I want to name her after my brother."
They blinked in surprise. Gil cleared his throat. "…Ayla Brandon?" His voice gave away his uncertainty. Jace frowned—he probably hadn't remembered my brother's name.
Seeking to outdo Gil, no doubt, he spoke up—"I think it's great—we don't need to be conventional, especially since it's her middle name… it's not like she'll get teased for it. You should name her after your brother."
I turned beseeching eyes to Gil—he knew, as Jace did not, the reason my brother and I no longer spoke. He knew more than Jace why it would be so important to me… and at my gaze, he just nodded softly. "If you want it, darling."
I beamed, and Jace tried to drag my attention back to him—"Ayla Brandon Wendt. …Beautiful!"
Gil averted his eyes at the use of the last name—he had expected it, but no doubt it still hurt. I bit my bottom lip, looking down at her, trying to make light of the situation. "…You've already got men falling all over you, competing for your love, Ayla. What are we going to do with you?"
Both men smiled, but neither smile reached their eyes. It was going to be a long night.