"Are you sure you want to do this, Scully?"
"No turning back now, Mulder."
If it had been six years ago, I would have believed Mulder was
completely
paranoid and completely nuts about me having this baby as soon as
possible. Of course, it wasn't six years ago and I wanted to
go back to my apartment.
I also wanted to be able to get out of a sitting position without
any difficulty.
The moment I had calmed down about my pregnancy, I had read every
piece of
literature ever written on the subject. One interesting piece of
text was one I'd heard
about but never truly looked into. It was the natural'
ways to induce labor. I had
thought they were a load of crap.
And nine hours later, I've decided that while they may work
for some women, they
did _crap_ for me. All I gained was embarrassment and comments
from the peanut galley of Fox Mulder.
So, now here I was, sitting up against about five pillows, in the
room Mulder and I
were staying in. I had a fetal monitor up, an IV in, and an angry
OB, against a Pitocin-
induced labor for no medical reason.
I then learned just how persuasive Mulder's seeming paranoid
mind can be when it
comes to crisis. Mark was still against it, but seems to be
looking over his shoulder every five minutes.
As if someone would come into plain site.
What am I saying? Do I think someone is going to take this baby
from me?
Whoah, I better not answer that one.
I wasn't all together happy about the prospect of inducing
labor, myself. I had
wanted to have this baby the natural way. I'd go into labor,
Mulder would freak out,
we'd go to the hospital and hours later (I wasn't even
thinking about labor pains) we'd
have a little baby.
What was I high on when I thought that concept up?
I was most definitely not looking forward to labor at this point.
Despite the fact
that Pitocin can take hours to work (or not even work at all - I
am not going to think
about that situation), the contractions are more rapid on onset (quoting
a textbook there, Dana?) and can be more intense. Not to mention
the greater chance of needing a C-Section.
I was most definitely _not_ going to think about that.
Yes, right now I am going to think about the end result - a
little baby, soft and
sweet. And I don't even care if it's a boy or girl.
Okay, maybe I care a little.
11 hours later.
Okay, now I definitely don't care if it's a boy or a
girl.
I just want it _out_.
Since I was having this labor induced I had decided that I wouldn't
use any drugs,
hence make this birth somewhat natural'.
Once again, _what_ was I thinking??
It's wasn't so bad at first. Then one contraction hit
and well, without an x-ray, no
one can prove I broken Mulder's hand. Surprisingly, though,
he's still here, coaching me, nursing an ice pack over very
swollen knuckles.
Yet, I still want to use every curse word known to man. Ironic
world, huh?
The contractions are getting closer together and I can't
wait for this whole thing to
be over. I suddenly have this urge to call for my mother (who, by
the way, is going to be
_pissed_ when she finds out I had this baby without her presence
nearby) and have her
kiss it better.
"Is it too late to say that I've changed my mind?"
Shit, did I just say that sentence
out loud?
I hear Mark. "I think so, Dana."
I did say it out loud. Score one for weakness, Dana.
"Are you sure you don't want anything? Pretty soon you'll
be at the point of no
return. It's just full speed ahead from there, Dana."
"I know." Breathe. Think back to the Lamaze classes. I
get a mental picture of
Mulder's shock at the childbirth video we had to watch.
Geez, after everything we've
seen, I would have never guessed childbirth would make Mulder
jumpy. "And no." I look
at Mulder, who is trying to hide the pain from his hand from me.
He smiles.
"Hey, just hold out a little longer. You're doing great."
His words, though sincere, don't mean a crock of shit to me
at this moment.
"Easy for you to say."
I should be more compassionate, perhaps, as I think back an hour
to Mulder
declining painkillers himself, but hell, I'm in labor. And
it hurts.
I had asked my mother about the actual labor. She was in labor
for 36 hours with
Bill, and by the time she got to Charlie she was down to an 8
hour labor. Well, 8 hours
passed for me, and I am praying it's not going to be 36.
Another contraction hits me, and I look for something to grab
onto. I closed my
eyes, and was ready to gab air when I feel a familiar hand latch
onto mine. I open my eyes and was surprised to see Mulder's
good hand holding onto mine.
I was never more in love with him as at this moment.
The contraction eased and his eyes look into mine.
"Scully?"
"What?" I'm sweaty, unattractive, in pain, and not
the most happy camper at this
point.
"Marry me."
"What?" I stare at him for a couple of minutes. "Mulder,
I -"
Of course, another contraction interrupts me. I hear Mulder's
voice through it,
though and as the pain eases once again, I try to think about
what he's just asked me.
Mulder asked me to marry him.
What am I going to say?
He's still looking at me, and I know he wants an answer.
Then before the next
contraction hits, I smile at him.
"If I get to pick the name."
"No way!" he murmurs and goes to kiss me.
A contraction interrupts him, however, and it's more intense
this time.
"Beth is the perfect, name, Scully."
"So . . ." Breathe. "sure . . . it's . . .
going . . . to . . . be . . . a girl?" After all this,
it better be a girl.
"I have a theory on this, Scully. The Gunmen are running 2 -
to - 1 odds on it."
"Don't make me laugh, Mulder."
"I'm not." I can picture the pout as I close my
eyes against another contraction.
They are coming closer.
Hopefully it won't be much longer.
17 hours into labor.
Not much longer, my _ass._
Mulder's words stopping being comforting and staring
becoming annoying about
four hours ago. That was when, Mark had told me "looking
great, the way you're
dilating, it shouldn't be much longer."
Then my dilation slowed.
Now it's stopped and has been that way for the last hour.
My medical mind is worried. The baby is going nowhere. I'm
not dilated enough
for this baby to be delivered. I can't have a C-section in
the middle of a cabin - this is not a hospital.
I am getting scared.
After another exam, I could see Mark getting worried.
Great, just what I need. The OB freaking.
"It's just 2 more centimeters, Mark. Give it a little
time. Maybe the baby will
drop." Another contraction hit and I wanted to push.
"You can't push. According to the sonogram, the baby's
head is never going to fit
even if he or she dropped. There's no choice but C-Section."
Shit. I glance out the window. The slightly overcast September
sky has turned
dark, as if predicting the turn of events. Mulder has turned to
talk to the doctor himself,
asking questions like how the hell are we going to do this'
and I think back to why we're
having this baby now in the first place.
What if they' catch up? I still am unsure about who
they' is. As I look at the
stormy sky, it seems like a trail of smoke has inhabited the
clouds, turning their usual
white gray. Smoke . . .
Another contraction comes. This baby wants out and it's not
going to happen the
natural way.
I want my mommy.
I glance back out at the sky. I need everything to be okay.
I need Beth' to be okay.
Did I just say Beth'? Mulder's name has attached
itself to my brain. But hell if
I'll name a little boy Andrew.'
I hear rain start to fall against the window panes.
