Special Delivery by April Wilson

Chapter 4 - Shane

Shane McIntyre

A sense of calm has stolen over me, much to my surprise—and relief. I realize Beth needs me to be calm because she’s scared to death.

The moment I realized she was in labor, my heart practically stopped. Even now, I have to keep reminding myself this isn’t like the last time. This baby is full term—ready to be born—and Beth is in a great state of mind. She’s giving birth in a hospital, under the supervision of her obstetrician.

This time will be different. It has to be. I can’t bear for her to go through again what she experienced the last time.

Beth’s been in labor for a number of hours now… I’ve lost count. I glance at a clock on the wall to see that it’s three in the morning. She’s been at this for nearly six hours.

Dr. Shaw returns to check on Beth’s progress. She’s been in and out of our room all night. Finally, this time, after a quick examination, she informs us that Beth is dilated to nine centimeters—it’s time.

Beth’s poor mother, Ingrid, looks paler than usual. She’s been at Beth’s side since she arrived, holding her daughter’s hand, giving her words of encouragement. Ingrid has claimed her spot on the right side of Beth’s bed, and I’m on her left. We’re both holding one of Beth’s hands. When the contractions come, hard and fast, Beth squeezes my hand so tightly she cuts off my circulation.

“You need to breathe, Beth,” Emma says as she monitors Beth’s vitals. “Take some deep breaths. You need oxygen, as does your baby. Try not to hold your breath.”

Emma’s a god-send. Being a mother herself—she’s told us about her own kids—she knows exactly what Beth is going through. And she has a calming, reassuring demeanor that we all need right now.

Emma glances at one of the machines that monitor Beth’s contractions. “Get ready, sweetie. Here comes another one.”

As Beth grimaces through the wave, Dr. Shaw checks on the baby.

“I can feel the baby’s head,” Shaw says. “It’s about to crown. Beth, can you bear down now and give me a big push?”

Beth’s lips are compressed in a line as she strains so hard her face turns bright red.

My heart thuds painfully in my chest. God, I wish I could do this for her. If I could take the pain from her, I would. Gladly.

All night, Beth’s contractions have ebbed and flowed like ocean waves sweeping onto shore, then retreating. Even with the epidural, she’s still feeling quite a bit of discomfort. Time seems to have stilled. My sole focus right now is on my wife, and I do whatever I can to comfort and reassure her, just as her mother does.

Periodically, Ingrid and I make eye contact across the bed. I see the concern in her eyes—the worry for her daughter—and I know we’re feeling the same emotions. I give her a reassuring nod, and she replies with a grateful smile.

Dr. Shaw starts getting excited, her voice rising in pitch as she fires out instructions. “One more time, Beth. You can do it—you’re so close. Give me one more really good push.”

I move in closer and support Beth as she leans forward into a determined push. She strains so hard I’m afraid she’s going to pop a blood vessel.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” I tell her, leaning in to support her from behind. “You’re doing great.”

With a fierce growl, Beth gives all she’s got. The only thing I can do to help her is murmur encouragement and hold her tight.

A moment later, Dr. Shaw holds up a small infant in her hands, the baby’s skin mottled red and wrinkled. She holds the baby in her palm, face down, and rubs the infant’s back. I think we’re all holding our breath as we wait for a sign that the baby is breathing.

Please, just a tiny sound.

A breath.

A cry.

A loud squawk.

Anything.

My heart is pounding, and I can’t help thinking back to when Luke was born. He didn’t cry. He didn’t make a sound, and I’d been so afraid for him. Afraid for my wife. It took some doing for Jason Miller to finally get Luke breathing.

I spare a moment to look at Beth. She’s frozen, staring at the baby, her eyes wide, and I know exactly what’s going through her mind.

Not again.

I hug her. “It’s all right, sweetheart. It’s going to be fine.”

Seeming perfectly unconcerned, Dr. Shaw continues to rub our baby’s back. Calmly, patiently, she pats the baby, then gives it a tiny nudge. Shaw turns the baby over and suctions fluid from the its mouth. Suddenly, we hear a gasp, then a sputter, followed by a wet cough. And then comes the best sound of all—a thin, reedy cry as our baby takes its first breath.

“Who do we have here?” Dr. Shaw muses as she turns the baby over and skims her gaze over the tiny little body. “Ah, a little girl. And she looks absolutely perfect. Ten little fingers and ten little toes. Congratulations, you two.”

A girl.

We have a daughter.

I open my mouth to tease Beth that I was right, but she slumps weakly in my arms, and I gently lay her back on the mattress.

With a sigh, Beth closes her eyes.

I brush her hair back from her frighteningly pale face. “Sweetheart? Are you okay?” When she doesn’t respond, my tone sharpens. “Beth, look at me.”

Her blue-green eyes flutter open, and she gives me a weak smile. “You were right.”

Relief floods me as I return her smile. “We have a daughter.”

“Shane?” Dr. Shaw offers me a pair of surgical scissors. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Immediately, my mind flashes back to Luke’s birth when I cut his umbilical cord, but under very different circumstances. But this is a different time, a different place, and a different delivery. Right now, our daughter is red-faced and squalling with indignation. It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve heard in a long time.

I gaze down at the umbilical cord, which is already clamped in two places.

“Cut here,” she says, pointing to a spot between the clamps.

My hand shakes as I cut the cord. Then Shaw lays the baby on Beth’s bare chest and covers them with a blanket.

Beth’s arms come up to cradle the baby, who’s already nuzzling at her breast. “Hello there, little darling,” she says as she strokes the baby’s hair, which is a fine dusting of brown peach fuzz. Beth gives me a radiant smile. “Brown hair, just like yours.”

The sight of my wife holding our newborn daughter makes me choke up.

My girls.

As the baby wriggles and fusses, Beth speaks softly as she tries to comfort her. A moment later, the baby is rooting around, clearly looking for a nipple to latch onto. Beth guides the tip of her breast to the baby’s mouth, and after a few awkward tries, the baby manages to latch on.

I watch, mesmerized, as the baby attempts to suckle. I know Beth’s milk won’t come for a while, but at least the baby gets colostrum.

Beth rubs the baby’s back as she nurses, speaking softly. I think back to how Beth struggled to nurse Luke, how frustrated she became. This time, it seems almost effortless.

Beth grins up at me. “Isn’t she perfect?”

I nod, too choked up to speak.

Soon after, Dr. Shaw asks to borrow our baby for just a few minutes. She lays her in a clear acrylic bassinet, and after wiping her clean performs a quick exam, checking her vitals.

“Six pounds two ounces,” Shaw says, as she returns the baby to Beth’s arms. “Twenty inches long. She looks fantastic, guys.”

Ingrid’s eyes tear up as she watches Beth holding our new baby. “I’m so happy for you both.”

A little while later, Emma tells us she’s going to take our baby away for a bath and a more thorough examination. “I’ll bring her back as soon as that’s done.”

Beth grabs my arm. “Go with her, Shane. Don’t let her out of your sight. Promise me.”

“I promise,” I say as I kiss my wife’s forehead before following our daughter into the hallway.

* * *

I escort Emma to the delivery nursery where she gives our baby her first bath. I have an identification bracelet on my wrist, as does Beth. The baby now has a tiny little tag around her ankle identifying her as Baby Girl McIntyre.

As Emma gently washes her, I finally get a good chance to study our tiny, wriggling baby. Her face is round, her nose a perfect little button. She vigorously kicks her legs and arms as she blinks up at the overhead lights.

I reach out with my index finger to touch one of her hands. When she grasps my finger, my heart thuds hard in my chest. I’m swamped with an overwhelming sense of responsibility and love for this precious little being.

“Is she your first?” Emma asks.

“No. We have a son, fifteen months old.”

She smiles. “One of each, then. How nice. Do you have a name picked out for your daughter?”

“I think we do. My wife and I mulled over some ideas. Now that she’s born, and we know she’s a girl, we’ll have to finalize our choice and make it official.”

When the bath is over, Emma diapers the baby and dresses her in a white cotton onesie before wrapping her in a soft blanket. “Shall we take this little girl back to her mama?”

We arrive back at the room with the baby in her bassinet, just as another nurse is helping Beth get cleaned up. Ingrid rests in her chair beside the bed, holding Beth’s hand.

As soon as she spots me, Beth holds out her free hand. I take it in both of mine and lean down to kiss it.

“How is she?” she asks in a hoarse voice. She sounds exhausted.

“She’s perfect.”

I lean over her, smiling and brushing her hair back from her hot, damp face. “I’m so proud of you.”

She gives me a teary smile. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

* * *

An hour later, just before dawn, Beth is asleep, as is the baby. I’ve taken a quick shower and dressed into clothes Cooper dropped off for me. I turn the lights down low and close the blinds to darken the room so Beth can sleep. She needs rest now more than anything.

Ingrid goes downstairs to the cafeteria with her son, Tyler, and Tyler’s fiancé, Ian, to grab something to eat and a cup of coffee. Tyler and Ian have been here all night in the waiting room.

The baby’s rolling bassinet stands at the foot of Beth’s bed. I’m seated on a chair beside the bed, my attention split between my wife and our daughter.

I check the time. I imagine Luke will be awake before long, if he’s not already. He’s an early riser like me. As our family grows, so do my responsibilities. Beth and I now have two children to worry about. I don’t know how my parents managed with seven.

Cooper steps into the room and comes to stand beside the bassinet. He stares long and hard at the baby, then at Beth. “How’s she doing?” he asks quietly so as not to wake her. He nods toward Beth.

I nod. “Pretty well. She’s exhausted.”

He comes to stand by my chair and clamps his hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Congratulations, buddy. Sam’s sending me regular updates on Luke—he’s doing fine. I’ll go back out to the waiting room and let you get some rest.”

I follow Cooper’s advice and take a quick catnap in a reclining chair while I can. I know it’s only a matter of time before visitors start showing up in droves, wanting to see the new baby and congratulate us.

A couple hours later, there’s a light tap on the door, and then my parents walk into the room, their expressions eager.

“Can we come in?” my mom asks as she peers into the dimly-lit room.

“Of course,” I say in a quiet voice, holding a finger to my lips.  “Beth’s sleeping.”

Mom nods. “We’ll be quiet. I just need to see my new granddaughter.”

Mom peeks at Beth, who’s sleeping. Then she and Dad both move to the bassinet and gaze down at the sleeping baby.

Mom grins at me. “Congratulations, honey,” she whispers. “Can I hold her?”

“Of course.”

Mom picks the baby up and cradles her gently. “Have you guys picked out a name?”

“We agreed on a girl’s name, but I need to discuss it with Beth before we announce it. I want to make sure she hasn’t changed her mind.”

My parents take a seat on the sofa to cuddle with the baby. When Beth stirs, I return to my chair beside her bed.

“Hi,” I say quietly when she opens her eyes.

She smiles tiredly. “How is she?”

“She’s fine. She’s still sleeping.” I nod across the room to my folks. “My parents are here.” I reach for Beth’s hand, which is soft and cool in mine. “We should finalize her name.”

Beth smiles. “I like Ava. Ava McIntyre.”

“Ava Elizabeth McIntyre,” I say. “After her mom.” I lean forward and kiss Beth, my lips gentle on hers. She’s been through so much, I just want to wrap her up in my arms and keep her safe. “Did you guys hear that?” I call to my parents. “Her name is Ava Elizabeth.”

My mom beams. “Little Ava. That’s perfect. I love it.”

Throughout the day, there’s a quiet parade of people in and out of Beth’s room. Tyler and Ian come to the room to see Beth and the baby. My siblings all come to visit, except for Hannah, who hasn’t arrived yet from Colorado. Sam and Cooper come to visit. Molly and Jamie are at the penthouse watching Luke.

Everyone can tell that Beth is exhausted, so they keep their visits short and sweet. Once Beth and Ava are released from the hospital, I’m taking them and Luke straight to our home in Kenilworth. That’s where Beth will recuperate. Our family and friends will join us there to help us celebrate.

That evening, Tyler and Ian take Ingrid home so she can get some much-needed rest. Finally, it’s just the two of us—well, the three of us.

The nurse helps Beth get up and walk to the restroom. Post-delivery, Beth’s definitely doing better than she did when Luke was born, which is a huge relief. I didn’t want her to have to go through so much trauma as she did last time.

Beth wakes up twice in the night to the cries of a fussy baby and attempts to nurse Ava. It’s hit or miss. Beth is experienced after having nursed Luke for a year, but it’s always touchy with a new baby who hasn’t quite learned how to properly latch on. The baby gets frustrated and cries a lot, which distresses Beth.

I try to be helpful, but there’s not much I can do except be supportive. After another attempted nursing, I change Ava’s diaper and dress her in a clean onesie—this one a soft pink with white bunnies on it. It’s a gift from Tyler and Ian, meaning Ian must have picked it out. I can’t see Tyler shopping for baby clothes.

After dressing Ava, I wrap her in a soft, white baby blanket.

Ava is wide awake now, so I hold her for a while, just talking to her. I tell her about her big brother, who’s going to love her. I tell her about her cousins—Aiden, Everly, and Emerly—who she will meet soon. I tell her about her godfathers, Cooper and Sam, who she met briefly today, and all about her many uncles and aunts.

After Ava falls asleep in my arms, I tuck her into the bassinet. Then, utterly exhausted, I drop down into the chair beside Beth’s bed.

“Happy?” Beth says quietly as she glances my way.

I turn to see her smiling at me. “Very.”

There are tears in her eyes when she says, “Me too.”

She pats the mattress. “Lie down with me.”

“I’m afraid there’s not enough room. I don’t want to crush you.”

She smiles as she reaches for my hand. “There’s always enough room for spooning.”

I kick off my shoes and climb onto the bed to lie behind her and spoon her.

She sighs contentedly as I hold her close. “This is so much better.”

While I hold her in my arms, Beth drifts off to sleep. I’m exhausted, too, but sleep doesn’t come easily. My mind is reeling. We have two children now. Two babies. The thought hits me like a ton of bricks.

Two.

I want to be a good dad, not just now while they’re babies, but later, too, when they’re grown.

I want a relationship with them like I have with my parents. My dad has always been a good role model. Now it’s my turn.