Special Delivery by April Wilson
Chapter 3 - Beth
Beth McIntyre
Shane punches the elevator button, and the doors close. As we begin to descend, he says, “Do you think you can stand for a few minutes?”
“Yes.” The crushing weight on my abdomen has eased.
He sets me on my feet and then quickly changes into the clean clothes that Cooper handed him on our way out. He wipes his face and neck on his workout T-shirt. “That’ll have to do until I get a chance to shower.” He studies me. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. The contraction’s over.”
He pulls me into his arms, and I feel his lips against my ear. “Just relax. Everything’s going to be fine. We’ll be holding our new baby girl before you know it.”
I laugh, just as he had intended. “Or boy.”
His chest vibrates as he chuckles. “Whatever you say, sweetheart. I know better than to argue with a pregnant woman.”
When the elevator doors open, Shane picks up my overnight bag and takes my hand. Parked right outside the elevator is the Escalade. As we approach, Sam jumps out of the driver’s side and comes around to open the rear passenger door. Shane sets my overnight bag on the floor and lifts me into his arms to set me on the seat.
“I’ll get it wet,” I warn him, reminding him of my broken water and soaked clothing.
“It’s fine, honey,” he says as he lowers me onto the seat and reaches for my seat belt. After he fastens me in, he jogs around to the other side of the vehicle and climbs in beside me.
We’re off a moment later as Sam drives us to the hospital.
I lean my head back in my seat and close my eyes as I try to focus on remaining calm. The last thing I need right now is to have a panic attack.
As I blow out a long, shaky breath, Shane reaches for my hand and links our fingers together. “Just keep breathing, sweetheart. I’ll be with you every second. Everything’s going to be fine.”
I’m not sure which one of us he’s trying to convince—himself or me.
His voice is low and steady, but I’m sure he’s thinking back to the last time.
* * *
It is different this time. I’m surrounded by hospital staff—a labor and delivery nurse, Emma; and my regular obstetrician, Dr. Shaw, who is on hospital duty this evening. My husband is at my side, and my mom is in the delivery room with us. My brother and his boyfriend are out in the waiting room, along with Shane’s entire family. Shane’s middle sister, Hannah, is booking the first flight she can catch from Denver to Chicago.
“You’re doing great,” Emma says. My labor and delivery nurse is a middle-aged woman with brown hair pulled up in a bun and kind brown eyes framed by tiny laugh lines. She studies the row of machines next to me—the ones keeping track of my pulse and blood pressure and the contractions. “Get ready, Beth,” she warns. “Another one’s coming.”
Shane’s fingers tighten on mine. He’s been at my side every second, often in my line of sight as he talks me through the contractions. He’s strong, and yet compassionate, and when I begin to falter, he shows me tough love. Still, I feel the occasional tremor in his hand and the anxiety lurking behind his beautiful blue eyes. He’s scared, too; he just won’t admit it. We’re both still fixating on how close we came to losing Luke.
A wave of crushing pressure sweeps over my abdomen, and my ability to breathe goes right out the window.
“It’s okay, baby,” Mom says as she takes my other hand in hers. She’s standing on the other side of my bed, opposite Shane. “You can do this, darling. Just breathe through it.”
But it’s hard to breathe when you can’t get any air into your lungs. I can’t tell if it’s the contraction I’m feeling or if I’m having an asthma attack. The pressure is so tight, as if there’s a steel band wrapped around my torso, tightening, constricting my air. Thank goodness for the epidural—the pain’s not so bad. It’s the pressure.
“Breathe, sweetheart,” Shane says in a calm, low voice. “You have to breathe.”
I realize I’m holding my breath. “I can’t,” I rasp out.
He bites back a smile. “Yes, you can, honey. Just try to relax and breathe through the contraction.”
“I’d like to see you try this!” I say, perhaps considerably louder than I meant to. I know he’s just trying to be helpful, but right now, I don’t think anything can help me.
He tries hard not to laugh, but I can see the amusement in his eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever yelled at him before.
“Stop smiling, Shane! It’s not funny.”
His lips flatten into a line. “I’m not smiling, I promise.”
As the peak of the contraction hits me, I lean back onto the pillow, close my eyes, and grit my teeth. I don’t remember it being this hard.
Mom brushes her soft fingertips across my hot, clammy forehead. “You’re doing beautifully, darling,” she says in her soft voice. The soft lilt of her Swedish accent comforts me.
I’m so glad she’s here with me this time. Through no fault of her own, she missed Luke’s birth. My throat tightens. “Mom.”
“It’s okay, baby,” she says as she strokes my hair back from my face.
Shane cups my left hand in both of his, and his lips press against my knuckles. As he gazes at me with eyes that burn with emotion, I realize this is just as hard on him as it is on me.
As the contraction begins to ease, the nurse pats my leg. “Try to rest now, Beth, before the next contraction. It won’t be long now. I’ll go get Dr. Shaw.”
I exhale a long breath and relax into the mattress. I can breathe easier now.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” Mom says, smiling as she leans forward to kiss the side of my head. “It won’t be much longer now. You’ll be holding your sweet little baby in your arms before you know it.”
Smiling, I nod. “I don’t remember it being this hard.”
Mom laughs. “Honey, nature has a way of softening a woman’s memory when it comes to childbirth. If it didn’t, humans would have died out a long time ago.”
I laugh. “You must be right. Look at how many babies Bridget has had. Annie, too.”
I turn to face my husband, who’s uncharacteristically silent. “How are you holding up?”
He laughs. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”
I squeeze his hand. “I know this is hard on you, too.”
As he kisses my hand, his eyes radiate tension. “You have no idea, sweetheart.”
