May 3rd, 2018
39 Weeks-5days
I'm nervous as I check myself, but I see Dr. Burnley smiling broadly when she sees that we have arrived.
"All right, we're going to do a quick check before we admit you. Just to be sure that you are in labour. Ken can wait in the waiting area, if you're in labour we'll get you both settled into a room. I'm on a 24-hour shift so there's a good chance I'll be here when you deliver" she tells me.
I nod my head and give my things to Ken and follow her to the small exam room. I was about to climb onto the bed when I felt another contraction.
"Breathe through it," the Nurse told me gently. "You've had cervical checks?" And I nod my head.
She waits until I can breathe normally. She checks my vitals and does a few things before getting to the nitty-gritty. If Monday's exam had been uncomfortable, this was ten times worse. I whine at the back of my throat, seriously did she have her whole hand up there? Finally, she pulls off her gloves and tosses them before washing her hands.
"I'll be right back with the doctor," She told me with a smile.
Dr. Burnley comes into the room as I still was lying on the exam table. "Well, it looks like this little one decided to prove me wrong. You tested negative from strep B, your about three, maybe four cm dilated already. We're just getting together a room for you, your guy is waiting outside with some paperwork. Have you called your parents yet?"
"Not yet, I wanted to be sure before I called them in the middle of the night," I tell her quietly. She nods her head,
"Well you best give them a call, did you pack a gown to wear or should we fetch you something?" The doctor asked me.
"I have one," I tell her just as quietly.
We settle into the room, while the nurse explains the machine that tracks the heartbeats and contractions of the baby. She leaves us to ourselves, we don't bother unpacking things yet at we're both tired, yet wired at the same time. Ken sits in one of the chairs, pulled up close to the bed, his hair is out of place and he has this look of mixed emotions on his face. I call my parents, which rings and rings until it goes to voicemail, which I'm actually rather relieved about. Afterwards, we doze on and off, sometimes which surprises the nurses. I have a distinct feeling that if my water hadn't broken, I would have been sent home but as it had. I was better off here at the birth centre.
We were dozing when my parents finally made their appearance, Ken's head against the bed, hunched over while holding my hands.
I wake up to Dad kissing the top of my head. "You should have called more than once," he told me.
"You usually pick up, and I left a message," I tell him as Ken raises his head and yawns.
"I'd ask how you're doing but you were sleeping, so it must be all right so far?" Mom asks as she looks around the private room.
"I mean they hurt and all, but it's tolerable right now," I explain to her as I pull myself up into a sitting position and reach for my package of crackers."
"You know when Joy was born, really up until Twins were born they wouldn't let me eat at all during labour," Mom tells me.
"Dr. Burnley says that old fashioned," I tell her. "I mean I can't go eating large meals, but since I came in at 3 am, a little breakfast before things get going will do much better for me than ice chips. Though I'm not all that hungry," I say as I see dad reading my chart. " Really dad?"
Dad looks at me sheepishly and shrugs.
I put my crackers off to the side, and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Ken takes my hands and helps me stand. "Just going pee," I announce to everyone who was looking at me.
I got halfway to the bathroom when reached for a nearby chair, but ended up catching Ken's arm that appeared as soon as he saw me stop.
"Breathe through it," he whispers as he holds me. I barely register that my parents are watching us.
By 8 am a tray of food appears, it's mostly toast, jello and applesauce and other light things.
"How doing mommy?" The nurse asks me while walking into the room.
"All right I guess?" I say unsure of how to answer such a question.
"You have a high pain tolerance?" She asks looking at the paper from the monitor.
" Maybe? I don't know?" I tell her honestly. "I mean they hurt, and they hurt more than cramps, but I once danced on a broken toenail," I try to explain. Though I can see my parents look sharply at me from that admission.
"Well, if you find them getting worse, or too much let us know," the nurse told me. " For now, as long as you feel up to it. I suggest you make use of your time and walk around a bit, sit on the birthing ball. Since your waters already broke, we won't check you until it looks as if we need to, especially if you progress quickly. Though if you wish to know you can always ask for one, though no one ever does." She says with a small laugh.
I smile weakly this morning's check wasn't pleasant, there was no way I would ask for one.
The day went on, slowly. I made rounds around the room, we even walked the hall at one point, Ken beside me with each step I took.
"He's doing wonderful Leslie, actually I say he's better than Gilbert when Joy was born!" I hear mom tease Dad, "Yes, yes was very concerned when he still wanted to go to medical school after almost fainting when I gave birth to Joy ."
"I was almost two years younger than Ken and I didn't almost faint. I just had a moment where I wanted to." Dad says trying to say his two cents.
"I wouldn't bother trying Dad," I say from the doorway of the suite.
Ken had called his parents to tell him the news, and they were on their way as soon as they could be. Now it was mom and Leslie constantly chatting on the phone after Leslie realized that trying to talk to Ken wasn't an option.
I sit down on the bed, breathing as I grip Ken's hands as I felt another contraction. I think it bothered my father I was so quiet during them as he looked over at me frowning.
Mom hovers, while dad sits back checking his phone and occasionally stopping by his own office if needed. Still more than once I heard the excuse, "I'm sorry I'm expecting a grandchild, please reschedule, or I'm not available today.
If Ken leaves the room it's Dad who takes his place holding me and rubbing my back as I groan and whine. During off moments, mom works my hair into two dutch braids to keep my hair out of the way and out of my face. I cringed a bit when she tried to detangle it with her fingers enough but at least I wouldn't have to worry about it too much.
The other between minutes was sent texting people or replying to texts as it seems it already went down the grapevine of siblings.
Walter sent me a bunch of praying hands and that he and Rye were thinking of me and would be over as soon as they could be. Nan sent me a message reminding me to be brave and that I could do this. Di sent me a meme of superwoman, that I got this. Shirley reminded us that he would bring Ken's to us when we needed and half sappy comment about already writing a song for the little one. Jem sent me a message of good luck and that Faith was thinking of me. While Olivia sent me a bunch of squee's and that she could wait to come to see me and the baby. Even Persis sent me a kind message, which surprised me since I didn't realize that she had my number though Ken could have given it to her.
Dad took a few videos of me to send to Joy who ended up not coming because one of the boys had a fever and she didn't want to risk anything. While Ken took a few for his mother here and there. I even made some choppy Snapchats in-between contractions and even posted a hospital selfie and posted it to Instagram. I had no issues being filmed really, I never really did.
Things stayed relatively the same for the majority of the day. I walked, I leaned on Ken who was talking everything in graceful stride. Even though his hair was dishevelled and everyone and a while I could feel his body shake from nerves. Mostly it was us off in our little world, and for the most part, I wouldn't let anyone help me if Ken was there near. More than once I swatted at mom, apologizing in the process, it just wasn't the same.
"God how long is this going to last?" I whine.
"Well with Joy I was in labour for almost twenty-four hours," Mom answers after thinking about it for a minute. "It's been close to 12 hours so far since you arrived at the hospital?"
I groan as Ken steadies me as I lean again him. Five minutes, it's been at five minutes apart forever it seems.
"You should eat something," Ken says quietly looking up at the clock. "Keeps up some strength?"
"If I eat something right now I'll want to throw it up," I respond.
"Is that normal?" He looks to my dad.
"I'm no baby doctor. I got through rotation as a med school by the skin of my teeth, even after watching Anne have Joy and Jem. Might want to direct that one at Anne?" Dad tells him honestly .
"It's fairly normal, the body goes through a lot," Mom tells Ken.
"What happened on your rotation that made you do not consider it?" I ask turn and ask dad.
"I guess I found out watching or supporting through birth and being the doctor are different things. There is more to it, but given where we are I will stop there." Dad states with his voice being of end of the conversation.
"I found nausea worse with pain killers, but definitely remember being nauseous without anything even in my stomach," Mom says giving dad an empathetic look as she squeezed his shoulder. "Your body going through a lot, just don't fight it no one will care if you get sick or not," Mom says as she steps towards me as I sit down on the bed. 'If you don't eat though, at least have some juice?" She requests as she passes me the cranberry juice they brought for me.
I drink a few sips of it, testing it out before I drink a larger sip.
"You should eat as well," I look at Ken who sat down in the chair closest to me. "It's been a while since breakfast, did you even eat breakfast?" I ask him.
"How about I get some sandwiches? I mean I am the one with the cafeteria discount?" Dad says joking from his spot on the opposite side of the room. "I can get you some fruit?" He looks toward me.
I make a face, and he steps closer and kisses my hair.
It was just after dinner time when a good-looking male walked into the room, wearing a pair of bright coral scrubs that all the nurses seem to wear. He smiles at me when we make eye contact "Hi, I'm Greg one of the new shift of nurses this evening."
"Rilla," I look over at dad with a look who shrugs. Male nurses are a thing apparently? Why did Ken have run out to grab some coffee and snacks just now?
Greg checks my chart and reads it over, his eyes flickering up to look at me once. "Well, How are we feeling so far?" He asks jovially, as he checks over some of the machines near me.
"As well as one might feel in the middle of labour?" I say with only a hint of amusement in my voice.
"Not a small talker? Good to know," he smiles at me once more. "May I?" He says wanting to make sure the wireless belt that recorded my contractions was on right. I look over to dad, who nods his head. I fix my blanket, before undoing the snaps that were across my stomach. As he was checking the bands and monitors the machine started up once more the first thing I grabbed his arm. "Becky wasn't joking around when she told me you're a strong one." He jokes trying to settle my embarrassment of grabbing him. "If you change your mind or find they are too much. Please Don't hesitate to tell us," he tells me.
"I'll keep that in mind," I tell him.
"All right then, I'll get Katie to come to check on you, given your age, I feel like you would rather a female do that for you?"
"Yeah," I say blushing. "I mean I'm here and all because I made some teenage mistakes with a guy, but we only just exchanged names, maybe we can work up to things ?" I joke and dad grunts and gives me a look. But Greg laughs and nods his head.
"Sometimes honest mistakes bring the best rewards," Greg tells me with another smile. "That said, overall your comfort and the Heath of both of YOU is my priority. I will always ask if there is a choice, if they are an emergency your just going to have to trust me?"
"Sounds fair," I say looking towards my dad who nods his head. "This is my dad," I say.
"I have heard the name before, just never the face. A pleasure to meet you," Greg says nodding his head. "And is there anyone else with you for support?"
"Oh yes, Ken just went to get more Gatorade and coffee with my mom," I say brightly.
"That good, I will send Katie the next chance she gets," Greg says to me with another smile before leaving the room.
Katie was pretty blonde I find out when she stopped by my room shortly after Ken came back with more drinks and snacks for everyone. Mom had stepped out to make a phone call.
"All right, let's see what happening?" She says ready as she was about to roll up my blanket a bit.
"I'll be outside," Dad speaks up getting up from his spot.
"I'll call you back in," Katies says to him, shaking her head smiling. "You good where you are Daddy?" She asks Ken who was currently being used more a pillow as he sat somewhat beside me on the bed. My head in his lap of all places.
"As long as you good with it?" Ken answers back unsure.
" Just hold her hands then, this isn't exactly comfortable," She tells him and he does automatically. I look up at him and then up the ceiling as she does her job. I feel another contraction and the combination of everything sends my body into shock. Still, it takes everything not to break down in front of her.
I squeeze Ken's hands as I bite my lip, he frowns seeing me in such pain.
Katie pats my leg, letting me it was all over with. "Six cm, but you're about 75% effaced which is good."
"But that's like less than two cms in like?" I look up at the clock on the wall. It was past six pm now! "Hours and hours!"
"These things take time," Katie tries to reassure me. "Babies heart rate is good, and your contractions are steady so there is no reason to worry. Just keep doing what you've been doing and it will happen.
I lay there with Ken for a few minutes, wallowing in painful misery that after 16 hours I still only achieved three cm from the four I came in with. I barely had time to wallow though as I caught the machine beginning to track….four minutes now, and not five. That was something right?
It was on his rounds that Greg found Ken holding me up as I squatted down, in front of his chair trying anything to be comfortable. Whining through each contraction that only felt stronger and stronger with each one that passed. Mom was still flitting about, offering me water, juice, those stupid ice chips that I actually liked eating. Dad sat in his chair, trying to tell me stories from my childhood, ones I may not entirely remember but were interesting enough.
Really how long could this go one for?
"You know there is a squat bar?" He asks as he does his usual thing of checking machines.
"A what?" Ken asks for me as I am too occupied to answer
"A squat bar for the bed," he says and within a few clicks, he pulled it from the resting spot under the bed. "How are you doing, you have a very good turnout, dancer?" He asks me when I seem to be more coherent in the conversation.
"Ballet, I'm sure I'll hurt tomorrow, though really I'm sure I'll just hurt. Also, they hurt, nothing makes it stop hurting," I finally admit to him. "But I don't want to be stuck in bed."
"Well, there are plenty of options, the first one that the easiest is some good old gas and air," he tells me gently. His face is pensive. "Rilla, I'm gonna tell you something and I just want you to listen to me all right?"
I look at him curiously.
"My sister is a competitive skater and she's skated on twisted, sprained ankle for more times than she will admit. I know from her that in competitive sports, dancers have a show face. A show face that blocks them from showing any sort of pain, discomfort while doing something they love. They've trained to be this way, it's all an act on stage. It doesn't matter if you know what it really likes because you can fake it? You're a dancer, and from my brief talk with Dr. Burnley she told me a bit about you, I think you're doing the same thing you do for dance for labour ?"
I find myself nodding with wide eyes.
"Here's the thing, labour, delivery; it isn't dance or a show, or even a competition. You're allowed to show your pain, your hurt, even your emotions. You're allowed to feel afraid, scared of what's going on because it all new and you are young. Even though that doesn't really matter because all new moms are scared. So can you do something for me?"
I only nod my head at him.
"Next contraction, I want you to feel it, I want you to scream, cry, curse like the old tales of Captain Jim. I want you to live it, because of what you doing right now. It isn't helping you move along, and maybe if you let everything go few times an hour. Maybe this baby will make an appearance sooner rather than later?"
My eyes flicker to my family who is trying to pretend that they aren't listening.
"Say the words and I can clear the room, no one has to see or hear you. I can grab Ashely or Katie and we can just hold your hand and let you go at it, or you can just take it out on Ken. I mean it is almost a prerequisite to say a few choice things to your boyfriend during labour?" Greg tells me.
I look towards mom and dad, who nod their head. Mom comes over and whispers that she loves me in my ear before kissing my hair. They both leave the room letting me have a moment of privacy.
"Why does it hurt so much?" I cry and Ken and Greg both help me stand up and go back to the bed. Where I clutch at the bar that Greg installed.
"You probably hit the transition stage those lovely hours between 7 and 10 cm's," Greg tells me. "Now don't hold back, I've heard it all before." I see him eyeing the machine off to the side.
I am sure my screams echo off the walls, every swear and curse word I know tumbles out of my mouth. I barely noticed my doctor come in as I let myself lose control.
"Your girlfriend most loves your pep talks," I tell Greg when I can breathe again after taking a sip of water that Ken had in his hand. While his other hand was rubbing my back.
"I'm sure if I had one, she would," Greg chuckles as my doctor makes a rare appearance.
"Do you want us to show you how to use the gas?" Dr. Burley looks to Greg who then looks at me. I nod my head and four minutes later I was learning how magnificent it was and they stayed with me until I got the hang out of it.
"Don't hold it back," Greg tells me before. "I'm watching you," he says ever as jovially as he is, though I know he's not kidding around.
The gas makes my mouth dry, but takes the edge off and lets me relax a bit more mostly since it makes me feel lightheaded and loopy when I use it. I hear Dad chuckle once in a while, though my thoughts are fleeting and I don't remember what I had said. Mom is the one that hands me a peppermint from her purse to suck on when the water didn't seem to help my every dry mouth.
I felt her caress my hair as I breathed in the gas, or was that Ken? No Ken was on my other side. He looked tired, anxious but tired as he was in a wrinkled tee-shirt and a pair of jeans. Did they always fit him in such a way? God, he was beautiful to look at, suddenly he was blushing and dad was laughing.
What?
Then my stomach rolled and mom was the first one to catch on to the fact as she grabbed the bowl that was there for that one purpose. Dad came over and hit the button for the nurse who was one of the ladies and she helped clean up the mess that I made. Then it was more water in small sips and a few contractions that I merely swore through. Giving myself a break from the gas and air until I found it unbearable once again.
The sun was setting my labour progressed to what felt like had no end in sight.
"Mr. Tights Pants! My Saviour!" I call out when I see Greg come into my room.
"What am I chopped liver?" Ken says quietly beside me who was rubbing my back still. Greg laughs and goes over to the machines.
"Your Captain Tight Pants, like in firefly. Because you like your skinny Jeans," I say to Ken trying to pat his head but miss entirely hitting his shoulder and grazing his ear.
"It's safe to assume that she feeling better?" Greg looks to my parents.
"Well, it's safe to assume that we have proof of how out of it she was," Dad grins and holds up to his phone. "You know for future weddings and all, though don't worry she gave us permission."
"Are you getting married?" Greg says his brow furrowed knowing I was only sixteen. I hear him and as I feel the high coming down I respond more normally and more than once I saw him try to guess exactly how old Ken was
"Oh god no, no one needs that at sixteen along with a baby. We don't even live together. Co-parenting all the way," I explain though I don't actually address our relationship status.
Greg laughs lightly as he sees me start feeling another contraction and bring the mask up to my face once more.
It came to a head all too suddenly as I went from one feeling to another, the feeling of descent, that ring of fire they always spoke about. I hit the nurse's button rapidly, Mom and Dad had gone out to grab some coffee being close to 1 am and I still was in labour. Greg comes racing in, one look at my contractions and their spikes he looks at me.
"Remember our promise?" He asks me. At the moment I don't care, though I can see Ken be confused for a moment and ready to jump into action as Greg starts to remove my blanket. I grasp Ken's hands to stop him from doing something he might regret.
"It won't be long Rilla, the baby is crowning you at the finish line, you can even feel their hair if you want?" He offers but my next contraction takes over before I can even turn his turn. I barely see him hit the call button for the doctor this time with his elbow.
This time I'm pulling myself up as I grasp the bar that was still up, another moment where pressure is everywhere and there's no relief.
"I can't do this, I can't," I cry as I suddenly feel overwhelmed and filled with anxiety. "Please just make it stop" I beg through tears as I feel another contraction start as the last one fades. Right on top of each other and it feels like it's never going to end.
"Rilla, look at me," I can hear Ken, but through my tears I barely see him. He's beside me though, helping me hold on to the bar I was gripping. In some strange quasi squatting, sitting position. I barely turn my head towards him.
"I'm right here, every step of the way until, well forever," Ken tells me in almost a whisper, his head touching mine ever so slightly. "This is going to be your greatest thing you will ever do, beyond being on a stage. I got you, I got both of you until the day I die," he says while pressing a kiss to my forehead.
I haul myself back upwards, determined for a sheer moment.
"It's almost over with, just a few more," he tells me as the doctor comes in with triage of other nurses. It's a whirlwind, to say the least as they bring everything forward, and have everything ready.
Ken steadies me, despite his own shaking hands. In one quick moment, he tosses his phone to a nearby nurse, in a way to ask her to take a few photos if she could.
I let out a strangled scream, it feels like fire ripping through my lower half. Then again, and again, and suddenly there was sudden relief. I find myself falling backwards, Ken catching me as I let go of the bar. A nurse quickly covered me modestly as a slimy, angry, red thing with dark hair little thing is placed upon my chest. It was instant tears and waves of emotion.
I did this? I really did this? All my choices, all my memories raced in my mind to the day I took that test. All my fears, all the unknown, all the unanswered did I make the right choice?
Nothing was resolved really, I was still afraid, I was still unsure despite the burgeoning feeling to grow in my chest.
I look up at Ken who is beaming, he's speaking to me, but I don't fully hear him. It's all a blur, then between the rub down and suction, we hear her cry out for the first time. That flourishing feeling grows as does all of the unknown.
Ken takes the moment, not caring not clearly thinking as he kisses me. Saying something with his lips on mine. Maybe it was thank you, but at that moment I swear told me that he loved me. Neither of us saw the flash go off, but in his camera roll, there was the perfectly timed photo that would only be for us one day to look upon.
Well, there you have it!
We have a baby!
Thank you DrinkthemIN for all your help on labour! I'm used to writing in the third person for labour scenes, so writing first-person labour is something else entirely for me! I tried to make it believable and real without it being too technical or in-depth.
Tina