“Miss Malone, you’ve gone into early labor and the baby is distressed. We need to operate shortly,” the doctor informs me.
“Wait, operate? You can’t cut me open! That’s why I have a vagina!” I yell, out of breath as I choke, panicking.
The midwife strolls in and takes Vicky’s spot, patting my forehead with a cloth. She talks to me but all I hear is blah, blah, blah. I’m certain I’m going to pass out from the sheer terror of this all. I begin to cry, wanting my mom or sister, someone familiar to comfort me and not this stranger. With Vicky and Kate sent to the waiting area, the pain mixed with my desperate pleas drown out an army of nurses who come into the room and unlock the wheels to my bed.
“We’re going to wheel you to the operating room now.”
The doors open and my girls are to my side with Lex behind them. The sobbing starts again, and I desperately hold onto their arms, not wanting to let go.
“It’s gonna be okay, Pres,” Vicky whispers. “The Jerk hasn’t picked up his phone but I’ll keep trying.”
“I’m scared,” I cry through thin, strained sobs.
“I know, sweetie, but I promise you’ll be okay.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you’re my best friend and you have to be.” She kisses my forehead with tears falling down her cheeks. Kate looks equally distraught but is attempting to smile, reassuring me everything’s going to be okay. Lex stands beside Kate and offers his kind words.
“It’ll be over before you know it and you’ll be holding that beautiful baby of yours in your arms.” He smiles, looking somewhat nostalgic.
“Great, I think someone just got baby fever again,” Kate says as she rolls her eyes at him.
I manage to smile through my tears before their faces disappear down the hall.
***
There’s something to be said for being a patient in an operating room; it’s the most surreal out-of-body experience there is. The sterile walls and bright lights somehow create a calm before the storm. I’ve zoned out, only barely hearing the distant voices. Things are thrown over me, poke and prod me. When a contraction rocks me to the core, they warn me they are giving me an epidural and the pain is suddenly washed away.
I want to smile.
I want to laugh and run through the fields, dancing and carefree.
What a fucking relief.
In a sea of calm, I stare into the light, blissfully dazed, until the doors burst open and the Jerk rushes in. The guards behind the surgeons are trying to catch him, and when the nurse figures out who he is, they give him a gown and a mask and make him sanitize his hands. He is by my side so fast, with bloodshot eyes surrounded by a thick black bruise; he looks a complete wreck.
The stale stench of alcohol lingers on his breath as he sits closer to me. Jesus, he is drunk.
“Really? This is how you welcome our child into the world? Drunk and covered in dried blood?” I whisper.
“It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got time. In case you haven’t noticed, I ain’t going anywhere anytime soon.”
“I don’t want to get into it now.”
“Why? Because Eloise is pregnant, too?” I spit back, accusing him in front of the entire medical team.
The anesthesiologist tries not to smile, but it’s obvious behind her mask. It doesn’t stop me from asking the questions the Jerk doesn’t want to answer.
“She’s not pregnant, okay? I don’t know why she told you all that,” he answers, sounding short-tempered. “We have a baby to bring into this world, so enough questions, Malone.”
“Well, you’re still a jerk and your roses suck,” I mutter.
He doesn’t respond, focusing on what is happening behind the makeshift wall between my head and my stomach. At this moment, I notice his bloody shirt and split lip for the first time. He grabs my hand and entwines his fingers into mine. It’s not the right moment to pull my hand away from his and start another argument. So I just wait and stare at the ceiling, avoiding his bruised and battered face and my bruised and battered ego.
There’s chatter, chaos, and anticipation around me. Time becomes fuzzy and my eyes continue to watch the lights until the moment my heart jumps out my chest, singing a song of ecstasy. The moment the sound of my baby’s wail breaks the silence, and officially, we welcome a son into the world.