Never Giving Up (Never #3) (20 page)

Even though I was exhausted, I knew there was no way I was going to be able to sleep. It felt like there was sand in my eyes, they were so dry and red. I wanted to close them so badly and just fall asleep like this, with Ella’s hand in mine, but I made sure to keep my eyes open. The two most important people in my life were lying in a hospital bed and if something was going to go wrong, I was going to be the first person to know—and to get help.

I tried to keep the dark thoughts away. I tried to focus on the fact that this was a happy occasion. Hospitals didn’t always have to be a place where you almost lost the one person you love the most. It could also be the place where you found a brand new person to love. I tried to focus on that. We weren’t here to lose; we were here to gain.

Ella slept for about three hours, never stirring, sleeping peacefully. I watched the screen just to the side of her bed that monitored her contractions. The screen showed her contractions as hills and as far as I could tell the hills were getting taller and wider. I’d watched the screen enough to understand that meant her contractions were getting stronger and lasting longer, and for that reason I was glad she was still asleep.

Ella was, by far and away, the strongest woman I had ever met, but it was agonizing to watch her suffer through labor. For nine months she’d spoken about trying to have a natural birth. I have no doubt she very well could have made it—she’s stubborn enough—but I wanted her to give herself a break, to not push herself so hard that in the end she was worse off than when she started.

The hills were getting bigger and wider still and with every contraction my eyes darted back and forth between the screen and Ella, watching to see if she was uncomfortable at all. She slept through every single one, not looking like she was affected at all. Modern medicine really was astounding. To my left, through the wall, I heard the distinct sound of a baby crying. The cry was gurgled and frantic. It sounded new. I felt a little uncomfortable hearing someone else’s baby’s first cry—like I’d stolen something from them. But then I smiled to myself thinking that if I could hear that baby’s cry then the parents were also hearing their baby’s first cry. Excitement washed over me, looking forward to sharing that moment with Ella, hoping someone in the rooms next to us might use our special moment as motivation.

I finally allowed my eyes to close, trying to have faith in the fact that Ella was asleep and not in any pain. My hand was clasped around hers and I pulled her it close to me as I laid my head on the bed next to her. I tried to keep my mind from wandering to the last time I was in this exact same position and instead, focused on trying to imagine what our baby would look like. I fell asleep to the image of a beautiful baby with pink skin and blue eyes, just like her mother.

I awoke to the sound of the door to the hospital room opening. My head shot up and I saw a nurse walking through the darkened room, making her way towards Ella. She gave me a silent smile and proceeded to the print-out of all the hills that made up Ella’s labor. I looked at the clock and noticed that two more hours had passed. I look back to the nurse who is making marks on the paper with a pen.

“Is everything all right?” I whispered to her. She looked over at me and smiled again.

“Everything looks very normal and healthy. I’m going to ask the doctor to come check her progress in a few minutes.”

“Is it ok that she’s been asleep this whole time? I mean, she’s not in any danger, is she?” Even though I was glad she wasn’t feeling any pain, it was a little unnerving that she could sleep through all her contractions.

The nurse gave me a sweet smile. “The epidural blocks the nerves that send pain signals to the brain. She can’t feel anything below her chest. So, she’s sleeping as if she’s in no pain, because she isn’t. It’s perfectly normal and actually beneficial that she’s asleep right now. She’ll need all the energy in the world when she’s pushing and after the baby is born.” Her whispered response goes a long way to ease my worries and I thanked her softly before she left the room.

I laid my head back down, but just as I felt myself drifting off the door opened and the lights came on. I saw Dr. Bronson enter the room and she gave me a comforting smile.

“Hello, Porter. How’s Ella doing?” I stood and looked to Ella, who still slept, and back to the doctor.

“She’s doing well, I suppose. The woman could sleep through an earthquake at this point,” I laughed.

“Well, I hate to wake her, but her chart indicates she might be close to pushing, so I want to check her.”

I nodded and then leaned down to her ear. “Ella, Baby, wake up.” I brushed the back of my hand down her cheek, trying to rouse her. “Sweetheart, wake up.” I pushed her hair off her forehead. I saw her eyes start to move beneath her lids and she took a deeper breath. I smiled, watching her come back from sleep, like a princess in a fairy tale. I couldn’t help myself so I leaned down and placed a chaste kiss against her lips and I felt her smile against me. I pulled away and saw the bluest eyes in the world staring back at me.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi, back. How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

“Good.” She smiled at my response.

“Good morning, Ella,” The doctor said from across the room as she washed her hands. Ella’s head whipped around to look at her and then she smiled again.

“Hi. I didn’t even see you there.”

“Well,” the doctor said with a playful lilt to her voice, “I’d be distracted if I woke up to that too.”

I blushed.

“He can be very distracting,” Ella said as she patted my hand.

“Good. You’re going to need some distraction because I need to check your progress.” Dr. Bronson moved to the side of her bed and lifted up her blanket, exposing her legs. “I’m going to help you move your legs because I know you probably can’t right now.” I watched as Ella’s face strained a little and then she laughed.

“I can’t move them at all.”

“That’s good,” the doctor said. “That means the medicine is doing its job.” She pushed both of Ella’s feet up towards the rest of her body and then gently placed her knees to the side. I winced because it looked a little uncomfortable. “I have to warn you though, Ella,” she said as she started to examine her. “In order for you to push, we’ll have to lower the dosage. We don’t want you to be in too much pain, but you have to be able to feel at least a little in order to push effectively.” The doctor’s eyebrows furrowed a little and she sat back on the bed, finished with her examination. “And it looks like the time is now. You’re fully dilated. Are you ready to push?”

My heart skipped at the doctors words and excitement rushed through my body. I looked to Ella to see the excitement on her face but was confused when I saw she started crying.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her, confused in her sudden change in emotion.

She looked up at me with tears welled in her eyes. “I don’t know,” she cried, the tears falling from her eyes. “I’m a little scared, I guess.”

I kissed her brow. “Everything’s going to be ok. I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

“What if I can’t do it? What if something bad happens?” She sniffled and wiped away the tears from her cheeks. “The baby has been safe in there for nine months, what if something goes wrong?”

“Ella,” Dr. Bronson’s voice rang out and we both looked to her. “It is normal to be apprehensive about giving birth, especially if you’ve never done it before.” She gave Ella a supportive smile. “Your baby is ready to be born. They want to meet you and you’ll do great. Next to your husband, I too, will be here the whole time.” She patted Ella’s leg and tilted her head, waiting for her response. I never asked her before if she has her own children, but I’m sure she does. Or she had the best bedside manner I’ve ever encountered. Either way, I just gained a new appreciation for her.

Ella wiped her tears again and then sat up a little straighter. “Ok, I can do this.” She took in a deep breath as if she was readying herself for battle.

“Good girl,” I said, wiping away the last of her tears.

“Ok,” Dr. Bronson said, clapping her hands together. “Showtime!”

The next few minutes were a flurry of activity. People entered the room with a lot of equipment and something that resembled a little crib on wheels. The bed folded down and transformed to allow the doctor to get even closer to Ella and I laughed because all I could think about was how I wanted to call the bed Optimus Prime now that I knew about its transforming capabilities. Ella looked at me funny when I laughed, wanting in on the joke.

“Later,” I told her. Now was not the time to tell her I’m thinking about cartoons from the eighties as she’s about to start giving birth to our first child. “I’m going to give an update to our parents.” She nodded.

“Hurry back,” she said, and then she winked at me. Even in this moment, when I knew she was scared and nervous, she could still make my blood run hot. I shook my head at her and made my way to the waiting room. Sometime last night, I couldn’t really remember when, I called our parents and let them know Ella went into labor and they all insisted on coming to the hospital. Ella and I both appreciated their support, and also appreciated that they all understood that Ella and I wanted privacy during the birth. Both our moms were very understanding, even though I knew either one of them would give anything to be in there when the baby was born.

When I made it back into the room, even more people were there. All of them seemed focused on the jobs they were performing. I went back to my side of her bed and gripped her hand, kissing her forehead.

“Both our moms give their love. And your dad said, and I quote, “Go get ’em.”” Ella laughed, which was the best sound I’d heard all morning.

“Ok, Ella, we’re going to do a few practice pushes.” Dr. Bronson was literally right up in Ella’s business. I imagined Ella would be a little uncomfortable with the doctor’s proximity, but she seemed unfazed. “Your epidural should be wearing off a little making it easier for you to feel the contractions, but until then you can look at that screen. When the line starts to move up, you’re having a contraction. You need to pull your knees to the side and up towards your head. Then you need to push. Porter will count to ten and then you can rest, ok?” Ella nodded and looked at me with worried eyes. I smiled at her.

“Everything will be ok,” I said, softly, trying to make her feel more at ease.

“All right, Ella, you see how the line is going up? That means it’s time to push. That’s it, pull your knees back and bear down.” Ella followed the instructions perfectly, as if she’d done this a million times. “Alright, Porter, now you count to ten. Not too fast, but not too slow.”

When I reached ten, Ella collapsed back down on to the bed and looked up at me. “Count faster next time,” she said with her eyes closed. Dr. Bronson slowly shook her head at me and mouthed ‘No.’

“You did great, Babe.”

“Next time, Ella, we’re going to push until the contraction is over, taking a small break between each one—just a few seconds.” Ella nodded and I just watched her. When the next contraction came, she did just as she was supposed to and so did I. She gave three good pushes and then the doctor told her to relax. She leaned back into the bed, but then suddenly gripped her stomach in pain.

“Oh, ouch!” She cried, drawing in a sharp breath through her teeth making a hissing sound. “That really hurts,” she said, rubbing a spot low on the right side of her belly. “Like, really hurts,” she said, looking at the doctor with a question in her eyes.

The doctor placed her hands on Ella’s knees and said calmly, “The epidural is likely wearing off. It’s normal to feel some discomfort.”

“But this is just one spot, right on the side, and I’m not having a contraction.”

“Your body is just adjusting. The baby’s heart rate is normal. Everything is going well.”

Ella just nodded while still rubbing the spot bothering her, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth.

This went on for hours.

Ella pushed through every contraction, and then when she wasn’t pushing, she complained about the pain in her side. The doctor was patient with Ella. It was obvious that she was trying, but even the nurses seemed to be getting restless after a while.

With every push she made a little progress, but then when the contraction was over the baby would sneak back up, away from us. I tried to help her. I held her legs, I kissed her forehead, and I wiped her brow. I must have counted to ten at least a hundred times by now. I’d count to ten a million times if it helped her. I’d do anything at this point to just help her.

“Is it supposed to take this long? What if something is wrong?” I asked the doctor between the contractions. I didn’t want to say it, but she’d started to bleed and it seemed like a lot of blood to me. I passed worried an hour ago and was now moving into terrified. It was easy to get caught up in the happiness of pregnancy, easy to take an simple delivery and healthy baby for granted. I hadn’t stopped to think about the fact that something might not go right, but I was thinking about it now.