Southern Pleasure (Southern Heart 1)

“What happened?” I rush to her.

She chuckles. “Nothing happened. Sitting was uncomfortable. I told you I could walk inside.”

“Not happening, baby.”

“Hi, my name is Lisa,” the nurse introduces herself to McKinley.

“McKinley . . .” She stops, takes a few deep breaths, and then continues. “Chamberlin. This is my husband, Evan.”

“Nice to meet you both. This your first?” she asks while she helps McKinley sit in the wheelchair.

“My first delivery, but we have a little girl. She’s two and a half.”

“Such a fun age. Dad, why don’t you park the car and meet us inside.”

I hesitate, not wanting to leave her side for a minute. “Go, Evan. I’m not having this baby in the next ten minutes.” I lean in and kiss her quickly before jumping into the car to find a legal parking space.

“McKinley Chamberlin,” I say once I reach the reception desk.

“Third floor room 303.”

I debate the stairs, but the elevator doors open so I jump in and push third floor and then tap the close door button . . . about fifteen times.

When I push open the door to her room, a nurse is standing by the bed messing with an IV. “Where’s my wife?” Even I can hear the panic in my voice.

“In here,” McKinley yells from behind a closed door.

I don’t hesitate. I crack open the door and squeeze in. “What are you doing?”

“I’m helping.” She’s sitting on a stool attempting to take off her shoes. I kneel before her and take off each one. “Lift your arms.” She does and I pull off her shirt. “Bra on or off?”

“Off.” Reaching behind her, I release the clasp and pull it from her arms. Rising to my feet, I offer her my hands and help her stand. She braces herself on my shoulders while she steps out of her yoga pants and panties.

My beautiful wife is standing before me, naked, ready to give birth to our son. I place my hands on either side of her belly. “I love you, Walker. Mommy and I cannot wait to meet you.” I kiss her belly one last time before standing. Bringing my hands up, I cup her face. “I love you. Thank you for loving our daughter, for giving me our son.” I kiss her lips and she grimaces. Rubbing her back, I let her lean on me until it passes. “Let’s get you in this gown so we can meet our son.”

We get her changed and in bed. The nurse is hooking up her IV when another contraction hits. “Babe, that was only like three minutes,” I say as soon as it passes.

“Yeah,” she sighs in relief.

“I’m going to go get the doctor.” The nurse scurries out of the room.

What happens next is a flurry of activity. The doctor comes in to check her, which I’m still not a fan of. Funny that it never bothered me with Misty. He says she is fully dilated and tells the nurse to bring in the delivery crew. McKinley and I had already decided we were going to be the only two people in the delivery room. It’s something we want to share together.

Two more nurses enter the room with a small incubator looking contraption. Overhead lights drop out of the ceiling and McKinley’s legs are placed in stirrups that come out of the bottom of the bed. Everything happens so fast, and before I know it, she’s pushing.

“McKinley, you didn’t have time for an epidural. I’ve giving you something in your IV to help with the pain, but I’m afraid it’s not near as effective. When you have a contraction, I need you to push as hard as you can and stop when I tell you to stop. It’s going to be painful, but I know you can do this,” the doctor tells her.

“Push,” he says from between her legs. McKinley latches onto my hand and pushes. “Dad, lift her leg and pull it back to her chest,” he instructs me.

“Baby.” I look to McKinley. Her face is flushed and covered in sweat. She’s beautiful.

“Just do what he says, Evan,” she snips. I don’t say a word because, one, she is not getting the good pain meds and, two, I can’t do this for her. If I could take her pain and have our son, I would. Instead, I’ll let her scream, yell, and cut the circulation off in my hands from her grip. Whatever she needs, I’m here.

This goes on for about fifteen minutes. Every time she has a contraction, another nurse and I hold her legs and she pushes.

“You’re doing great, McKinley,” the doctor tells her.

McKinley grabs my hand with an iron grip, so I know it’s another contraction. With each leg pulled to her chest, her hand squeezing mine, she bears down and a scream rips from her throat. My heart breaks. I hate she’s in so much pain. Then a scream altogether different echoes through the room.