Page 178 of Cara
“Push!”
The doctor, kneeling on the ground, spreads my legs wider as I scream through powerful contractions that are rolling into one another by now. Releasing my grip on the birthing stool, I collapse, the back of my head molding to Xavier’s chest. My head rolls in exhaustion, not sure how I’ll manage another.
It’s going to break me.
Xavier wraps himself around me, unable to suppress gasps of fear as he kisses my overheated skin over and over again. “You’re doing so good. You’re almost there, baby. Almost there.”
“Push!”
I grip his forearms, tensing up even as the doctor instructs me to stop, unable to control a damn thing. It’sexcruciating. “It hurts. Oh, God, it hurts!”
At times, when nerve endings send me into unmitigated agony, and I can’t catch my breath, I'm pulling Xavier’s hands off me, trying to brave through it alone. Focus. Endure as my body splits open.
Just as often, I’m screaming, begging for it to end, pleading for his arms to hold me again, terrified I'm going to die.
Writhing, I gasp, scream,sobhis name.
“Xavier. Xavier. I can’t. I… I can’t!”
His arms envelop me in a protective embrace, whispering words that anchor me and urge me to summon the strength to keep going.
In a rare moment of candidness, my mother once shared a painful truth to me: my father was absent during my birth. He lingered outside, sharing that moment with his father, eagerly waiting to smoke a celebratory cigar. One haunting thought lingers in my mind—she was relieved he wasn’t there. In her anger, she said she spent the entire ordeal cursing his name.
Yet, amidst this chaos, Xavier emerges as my sole lifeline.
I’ve spent years wishing for this moment, praying it could somehow happen, that my mind never turns against him, needing him to help me to the end.
“Almost there! Push!”
I never imagined it could get worse, yet here we are. My scream is so powerful that it becomes silent, my vocal cords unable to create a sound that matches the turmoil inside me.
“The head is out! One more push should do it!”
The pain is so excruciating that I am rendered speechless, unable to think of anything but powering through.
Just one more second.
One more.
One.
Xavier buries his head in my shoulder, his body trembling alongside mine as I push through the final unbearable stretch, crying out at the moment of release.
A sharp cry echoes through the room. This small corner of the world comes alive with a rare, lovely sound.
The doctor raises her hands, her eyes shining behind the mask, as she brings our baby to the table for cleaning. I’m too weak to sit up, so Xavier takes charge, leaning in to kiss me over and over, his cheeks marked by tears.
“Oh my God, Sophie. Oh my God.”
The doctor presents our child with a blue blanket.
“You have a beautiful baby boy.”
An image flashes in my mind as she bends down to put him in my arms. A hospital room where I once lay, crying my eyes out, mourning the piece of Xavier I thought I’d lost forever. The pain from that time in my life eases the moment his weight settles into my arms.
A profound, indescribable emotion overwhelms me—one I’ve never felt before.This is our baby.He has tufts of dark hair and tiny hands that flail until I gently guide them with my fingers, and his body starts to naturally ease into my warmth. With the last bit of strength in my arms, I bring him to my face and kiss his splotchy skin. “I’m here. I'm your Mamma.”
Shifting my position, I smile, encouraging Xavier to cradle him. My heart leaps when we complete the transfer, amazed by the significance of what has just occurred… who we are now holding. An extension of ourselves. A fragment of us that will live forever.
