Page 135 of Through the Storm

“I know.” He brushes my hair back with hands that are warm and steady. “It’s okay, I’m right here.”

The nurse asks me questions I barely understand. How far apart. How intense. I try to answer and fail.

“I want an epidural,” I gasp. “I don’t care. I want one. Right now.”

Ben nods before anyone else can speak. “Okay. We’ll do that.”

I look at him, desperate. “Tell them to hurry!”

“Okay, I’m on it.”

The relief when the epidural kicks in makes me cry all over again. I’m exhausted and shaky.

Ben stays right there, one hand wrapped around mine, thumb rubbing slow circles into my skin like he’s anchoring me to the bed.

“I’m still scared,” I admit quietly.

“That’s okay,” he says. “You don’t have to be fearless. You just have to keep going. I’ll do the rest with you. And remember, no mooing.”

That gets a real laugh out of me.

Time blurs after that.

Voices come and go. Lights shift. Pressure builds in a way that’s different from the pain before. Heavier. More insistent.

The doctor looks between my legs and then up at me. “Okay, Katy. It’s time to push.”

My heart slams into my ribs. “What?”

Ben straightens instantly. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s do this.”

I shake my head. “No, but I don’t know how to do this. We didn’t practice enough.”

“Yes, you do,” he says, moving into position. He lifts my leg carefully, settling my knee against his shoulder, his grip solid and unyielding. “There’s not a right way to do this. Just a Katy and Ben way. Come on, I’ve got you. Lean into me.”

The contraction builds fast.

“Okay,” the doctor says. “Push.”

I scream. There’s no dignity left, no pride. Just effort and fear and everything in my body bearing down.

Ben presses his forehead to mine. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “You’re doing it. You’re so strong.”

“I hate this,” I sob.

“I know,” he says. “I know. Push again.”

I do. I don’t know how long it lasts. I lose track of time and breathand thought. There’s just Ben’s voice and my body and the feeling that this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

Between pushes, I sag back against the pillows, shaking.

“I can’t do another one,” I whisper.

Ben kisses my temple, sweat and all. “You can. And I won’t let you stop.”

The next contraction hits and I scream again, pushing with everything I have.

“Good,” he says urgently. “Just like that. I’m right here. Look at me.”