Maybe Baby Lite (73 page)

Oh God, I feel another
gut-wrenching contraction rising. I will not scream. I will not
scream!

“
What do you mean which
side is Trey representing? The fucking housewives for Chrissake,
Ian! He’s an attorney for class action plaintiffs, duh?”

She turns back to face me,
rolling her eyes. I grip the rails on my hospital bed, bracing for
the rolling wave of pain that's thrashing inside of me. I squeeze
my eyes shut.

“
Shit, Ian, I got to go,
Tylar’s having another contraction.”

Gina is at my side,
instructing me to do the hee-hee-hees in three-beat sequences. The
pain of the contraction starts to subside. I'm now being instructed
by my “labor Nazi” to take a deep, cleansing breath.

Shit this
hurts!

“
You're doing great, Ty. I
really mean it girlfriend!” Gina dabs my sweaty forehead with a
damp washcloth that she nagged “Nurse Ratched” for earlier. Gina
assigned the name to the nurse immediately upon our arrival but I
don’t think she is so bad. “More ice chips, Ty?” she asks, reaching
for the cup.

“
Yes please, Gina. And by
the way, where the
hell
is Trey?”

“
Don’t worry. His
assistant has my number. I told her to call me as soon as she gets
the message to him in court. Chill out. That’s an order.” She winks
as she scoots out of the room to go and demand more ice chips from
Nurse Ratched. I'm glad that at least Gina can be here with
me.

The ordeal with Charlie
Roberts and the plea bargain was finalized in January. The evidence
had been released back to me. I asked Trey to dispose of the notes
and plum silk pajamas. I never wanted to lay eyes on any of it
again. I still have the jewelry boxes with the necklace and the
pearl drop earrings. I learned that my mother had sent those to
Charlie as a down payment of sorts for the dirty work. If the
jewelry truly is a link to my biological father, then I'll hold on
to it for now.

I think about my mother
and the numbness sinks in as it always does when I reflect upon how
little I really knew about her and how well she hid so many secrets
from me. Perhaps “secrets” is the wrong word; you could say she
raised me in an environment filled with lies and deceit. I've
learned over the past several months to stop reprimanding myself
for being naïve to it.

Trey says it's perfectly
normal for children to view a parent, no matter how bad or evil the
parent is, in the most favorable and acceptable light. That's what
I've done for years with her. The truth is my mother did protect me
in some ways. It could have been a lot worse.

There has been no word of
her whereabouts. My house in Radcliffe sold in late March. I
deposited the proceeds into my savings account. Our new home is
under construction. I told Trey we will buy the furnishings for it
with the proceeds from the house. The investigator Trey hired has
been relieved of his duties for now.

Gina comes bouncing back
into my hospital room carrying a cup of ice chips, beaming as Trey
follows in behind her. Trey rushes to my side and leans over my bed
rail, his eyes filled with love and concern.

“
I was afraid you wouldn’t
get word that I was here,” I choke, tears rolling down my cheeks. I
pull him toward me, a feeling of relief floods over me.

“
Sweetie, you know better
than that,” he says, stroking my face with his thumbs.

“
Gina,” Trey says, “can I
have some alone time with Tylar for just a bit?”

“
Sure thing counselor,”
she replies, cracking her gum loudly, “I’ll be down in the
cafeteria getting something to eat. Holler if you need me, Ty. She
hasn’t done a lot of that yet, Trey.” Gina winks as she breezes out
of the room.

“
How’s the pain, Tylar?”
Trey asks, lowering the bed rail so that he can sit beside me on
the bed. He takes my hand into his, absently rubbing his thumb
against my hospital wristband.

“
It’s not that bad,” I
lie, “Gina’s been helping me with my breathing.”

The nurse comes in just
then to check my progress. Trey moves outside the curtain she has
drawn. Peeling off her rubber gloves, she informs me that I'm
nearly seven centimeters dilated. She informs me in her no-nonsense
Nurse Ratched manner that I can expect stronger contractions as I
enter the transition stage of labor. She slides the curtain back
open, taking leave.

Holy crap! It gets worse
than this?

Trey reads the panicked
look on my face. He tries soothing me with reminders as to how much
better it is for both mother and baby when no anesthesia is used
during labor. I eye him warily as the next contraction
starts.

Trey removes his jacket
and tie, tossing them over onto a chair. He rolls his sleeves up to
his forearms. He patiently coaches me through the contraction the
way we learned in Lamaze class. We've now graduated to the
he-he-who pattern of breathing, followed by the cleansing
breath.

Trey watches the monitors
that are next to me so that he can gauge an impending contraction.
They are definitely coming faster and lasting longer. I sit up in
bed, bending over. I feel like someone has kicked me squarely in
the back. Trey tells me I'm having back labor.

You think?

He retrieves hot towels
from the nurse, pressing them up against my lower back. It helps. I
grab his hand, squeezing tightly as the next contraction descends.
I start moaning with the pain on this one. I promised myself I
wouldn’t do that.

“
Tylar, go with it, don’t
fight it, you have to do your breathing remember? You’re fighting
it baby, I can tell. Relax and breathe, just relax and breathe,”
Trey instructs firmly.

I’d rather
scream!

“
Arrggghh!” I groan,
clutching his hand in a death grip.

“
It’s winding down now,
winding down, there. Take a cleansing breath and get ready for the
next one,” he says, watching the contraction’s graph on the
monitor. It starts right back up.

“
Trey,” I groan loudly,
“get the nurse in here. I want an epidural! This hurts!”

“
Tylar,” he speaks gently
but firmly, in what I now regard as his sickening soothing voice.
“Remember honey, how we talked about this and decided together that
this is how we want our baby to be born? No meds pre-delivery,
remember? Now I know you can do this, baby.”

Shut UP! You'll never
touch me again Trey Michael Sinclair!

I no sooner finish cursing
him silently when the next contraction's on top of me. If I didn’t
know better, I'd swear the baby has a chainsaw inside and is sawing
through my ribcage, one rib at a time!

“
Ahhhhh shit!” I
scream.

I now have my fingers
wound around a big hunk of Trey’s hair, tugging at it as I thrash
around on the bed. Trey is fearful that I've crossed over into the
“loss of control during labor condition,” we learned about in our
natural childbirth class. The film our instructor played for the
group horrified all of us. I'm now starring in my own version of
it. That actress in the clip has nothing on me!

“
Sweet Jesus!” I rasp,
grabbing for my ice chips with my free hand, rolling back over on
my side as the pain grips me again. I lose control and toss ice
chips all over my bed.

“
Tylar, Tylar, come on
sweetie,” Trey is massaging my shoulders now. “Remember sweetie the
pain of childbirth is a pain soon forgotten, right?”

I stop thrashing
momentarily to turn my head in a 180-degree angle Exorcist-style to
look at him. My hand's still clutching his chunk of
hair.

Really Trey? How many
babies have you pushed out of a once TINY opening?

“
That’s my girl,” he
croons, his fingers now trying to gently disengage mine from out of
his hair. “Put on your big girl panties and roll with it,
okay?”

If I'd kept my panties on
we wouldn’t be here now!

“
That’s it sweetie, you’re
doing just fine. Remember, no pain, no gain, huh?” He finally frees
himself of my hand and dabs the cool washcloth against my forehead.
My hair is sweaty, I can feel it plastered against my
head.

“
Trey,” I gasp my voice
now hoarse, “Please no more fucking platitudes, alright? I promise
to stop the screaming if you just shut up for now.” He nods at me,
seemingly not offended by my request.

The nurse bustles back in,
Gina is right behind her. The nurse hustles Trey away from the bed
and raises the sheet to check my progress again, not bothering to
pull the curtain.

“
Did I miss anything?”
Gina asks.

“
Good news, honey,” my
nurse announces, smiling, “you lost your mucous plug.”

My what? That sounds
gross!

“
I’ll be right back to
break your water,” she says, disappearing once again. As promised,
she returns just after I loudly endure another rib-breaking
contraction compliment of “Chucky,” my new name for the baby. She
instructs Trey to change into his scrubs. Gina is allowed to stay
with me until Trey returns.

Nurse Ratched holds up
what looks like a long crochet hook. I swear I can see an evil
glint in her eye as she orders me to lay back and relax with my
knees up and spread apart. She dives under the paper sheet tented
over me with the hook in her gloved hand. The next thing I feel is
a gush of warm water between my legs.

“
Won’t be long now,
honey,” she assures me as she pulls her gloves off and exits the
room once again.

Magically, the pain
subsides for the moment. Gina comes to stand next to the bed. She
looks overwhelmed.

“
Ty,” she says, lifting my
hand, “I just want to tell you something before the Hot Nazi comes
back and banishes me outta here. I love you like my sister and I
hope you know that. You're going to have a beautiful, healthy baby,
you hear me?”

I nod at her, feeling
emotional and very blessed that I have her as my friend. I see that
her eyes are welling up.

“
Gina,” I reply, “I love
you like my sister, too. This is your godchild,
remember?”

“
Yeah,” she laughs, wiping
a stray tear with the back of her hand, “even though I hate that
name you picked for a girl.”

“
Treyla Michaela?” I ask,
astonished.

She nods, rolling her
eyes.

“
That’s a great name,” I
say defending my choice. “It’s in Trey’s honor. Boy is named after
me; girl is named after Trey.” Trey is still hoping for a boy
because of the name I chose for a girl. I don’t care. He is not
getting his way on this one. I refuse to budge.

“
It just reminds me of
those books I had as a kid; you know the ones about Amelia
Bedelia?” Gina smirks, shaking her head.

Trey returns dressed in
his sterile scrubs, complete with cap, booties, and a mask for his
face that he hasn’t pulled up yet. It looks as if he has gone from
lawyer to intern in just a couple of minutes.

Gina leans over and gives
me a kiss on the cheek, “Good luck, Ty. I’ll be in the waiting room
for the good news.” She turns to leave, stopping in front of Trey.
“Don’t make me wait forever to find out either, got it,” she says,
pointing her finger at him and giving him a stern look. He nods and
she disappears out the door.

“
You wonder why she pisses
me off,” he grumbles, but he can’t hide the look of amusement in
his eyes.

“
The doctor is in the
hallway with your chart, baby. He says you're ready to deliver.” He
is beaming and I'm excited. A contraction is building again as my
doctor steps into the room. The nurse and several CNAs follow Dr.
Addison into the room. An anesthesiologist arrives for the purpose
of numbing me after the episiotomy for the stitches that will
follow. In less than a minute, my labor room has been transformed
into a birthing room.

“
Are you ready to start
pushing, Tylar?” Dr. Addison asks, pulling his mask up.

Trey follows suit, getting
behind me as the fun is about to start. Twenty minutes and what
seems like a hundred pushes later, I flop back against my raised up
hospital bed, panting.

All I can see from my
vantage point are my sheet-covered knees, the top of Dr. Addison’s
capped head, and Trey’s halfway masked face staring down as the
doctor is helping our baby exit my birth canal. I feel no pain at
all during this part of it. I’m exhausted but elated. I see Trey’s
eyes widen as the doctor hands him the baby. Trey looks down and
smiles broadly.

Well, what is it? How is
it?

I hear a suction noise
followed by a squeaky cry that slowly builds in volume.

“
Trey, do you want to cut
the cord?” Dr. Addison asks him.

The nurse is now in the
mix, directing Trey on how to cut the umbilical cord and it's
clamped off.

“
Trey, is the baby okay?
Do we have a ‘Preston’ or a ‘Treyla’?” I ask loudly and
impatiently.

“
Hold on just a second,
Mommy,” he says beaming happily. The nurse is swaddling the baby in
a clean blanket. The crying has stopped, at least from the baby.
Trey’s eyes are tearing up as he holds the swaddled baby in his
arms. I'm totally unaware of what is happening between my legs,
underneath the paper tent. My only desire is to hold my
baby.