Page 144 of Ruin The Friendship
I’m so tired. My body aches everywhere, and I’m ready to give up. I’ve been holding out on getting the epidural, but it’s past midnight now—nearly six hours after we got here—and I’m running out of steam. I need sleep, and my body needs rest. I wanted to hold off as long as I could, but I haven’t progressed since I arrived, and I’m ready to have this baby.
“I’m waving the white flag.” I’m lying on my left side, with a peanut ball between my legs.
Fletcher’s sitting on a chair beside the bed, holding my hands in his and helping me through each and every contraction. “Time for an epidural?”
He’s exhausted too, I’m sure, his gaze hooded. He’s been my steady ground all evening into the night, and he was coming off a hard playoff game.
“Yeah.” Another contraction tightens across my belly, and a low groan leaves my lips, my body curling in as I breathe through the pain.
I can barely hear Fletcher talking to the nurses, but I’m so gratefulhe’s here.
Sleep is much easier onceI get the epidural, and I wake up around six in the morning with an insane pressure in my pelvis. Fletcher is snoozing on the couch he pulled up beside my hospital bed, our hands entwined even through sleep.
I unlink our hands and press the button on the rail of the bed to call the nurse. When I tell them I’m feeling some pressure, they tell me they’ll be right in. I jostle Fletcher, and he groans.
“What? Are you okay?” He bolts up, scanning me up and down. “What’s going on?”
“I’m just feeling a lot of pressure. They’re going to check it out.”
He nods, standing up and pushing the makeshift couch bed back to the corner.
They come in a moment later and help me get situated on my back before performing the check. When the doctor nods, a knowing feeling settles in my gut.
“It’s time,” she says. “You’re ten centimeters, and the baby is right there and ready.”
“Holy crap.” I glance up at Fletcher.
Everything happens fast. They get the room ready, helping me so I’m comfortable in the bed and making sure the baby warmer is on and good to go.
By the time they’re ready for me to start pushing, the pressure is even stronger. My contractions are coming right on top of the other, it seems, and while I can’t feel the pain as much, the tightness is still there.
They give me a few directions, and then my legs arepushed up, baring my lower half to the entire room. I don’t even have it in me to care. All sense of modesty is gone. I want to get my baby out, and if this is what it takes, so be it.
Fletcher takes my hand, pressing a kiss to the back of my palm. “You’ve got this, beautiful.”
I tilt my chin, searching for a kiss. When he obliges, leaning down and cupping my cheek, it all locks into place. My heart belongs to him and our little girl. I never thought this was how we would end up, but I’m so glad we did. When he pulls away, he keeps one of my hands in his, while his other arm wraps behind my shoulders, helping to hold me up.
“Ready, Lydia?” the doctor asks, and I nod. “Great. Now, when your contraction starts, push.”
It comes almost instantly, and I bear down, forcing all my energy into getting my baby out.
Time moves slowly as I continue to push, my body using every last molecule of strength through each and every push. I’ve been at this for over an hour now, and she’s still not coming.
“Lydia, she’s having some decels,” Dr. Jones says.
No, no, no.
“We can give it a few more pushes, but she needs to come out as soon as possible, or we’re going to have to do a C-section.”
My baby has to be okay. I have to get her out, but I’m so tired. My muscles are mush, and my brain is running on fumes.Oh, god, I don’t think I can do this.
“You can do this.”
With a determined nod, I take a deep breath as I wait for the next contraction to start. I don’t know where, but I find more strength.
“Good, good!” Dr. Jones says, and I hope that means I’m making some sort of progress.
A burning sensation hits, and I cry out.
