Page 94 of Never Really Mine
I nod, taking the scissors from her. I follow her instructions, cutting the soft cord between the two clamps, a burst of pride carrying though my body.
They clean him up a bit more for another moment on her chest, and then Mallory lifts him up off her, telling us she’s bringing him over to weigh him and get him wrapped up.
“I hate to be the one to tell you this, Marley, but we have one more baby to get out,” Dr. Ness’ voice is almost apologetic. “Baby Boy is doing great, so I want you to give me a really good push here.”
Marley obliges, pushing hard and long again. I can see how tired she’s getting, but she’s doing her best not to show it.
“Good. Again,” Dr. Ness says. Our son is crying over on the warmer, and it’s hard not to go to him, but I know he’s in the best hands right now.
55
MARLEY
Right now, all I know is pain. This is so incredibly painful that I don’t know how to process anything else. It feels like half of my heart is across the room, being swaddled and cared for by other people, and yet, I can’t move, can’t do anything but sit here and try to push my daughter out.
She’s stubborn, not moving down like she should. My body and mind are so exhausted, I don’t know how I’ll continue, but I know I have to. I’m nowhere near the end. Nowhere near holding both of them in my arms. When the next contraction hits, I put my all into it, willing her to move farther down.
“Good job, here she comes, Mom,” Dr. Ness says. There’s tugging and movement.
Beau stands strong and steady next to me. He hasn’t dropped my hand once, has given me constant encouragement, strength and power when I need it most.
“Is she coming?” I ask, my voice hoarse and breathless.
“She is, but her cord is wrapped around her neck. I need you to push hard, so I can get it off.” Her voice is serious, worrying me even more than I have all day.
“Is she okay?” I cry. She has to be okay.
“She will be, but you need to push, Marley.”
I bear down with everything I have in me, feeling the pressure and tugging like I felt with Baby Boy. It feels like my vagina is shredding in half, and someone lit it on fire with how much pain I’m in, but I’ll bear it if it means my baby is safe.
“Cord is off, one more big push, and she’ll be here,” Dr. Ness says.
I do what she says, and there’s another blast of pain and pressure, and then just as fast as it came on, it’s gone. My daughter is placed on my chest, much like her brother was, but she’s purple and not moving, not crying.
“She’s not crying,” I cry, my voice shrill and high. “What’s wrong? Why isn’t she crying?”
Peyton moves up the bed, roughly rubbing her back with a blanket. Her mouth is open, but she’s still not crying. It looks like she’s trying to, trying so hard. Peyton uses the bulb to suction her mouth, and finally, a gargled cry escapes her mouth.
Tears stream down my cheeks as I listen to her cry. “Good job, baby, you’re breathing,” I say to her. Beau leans down, resting his head to look at our girl.
She’s still purple, and not crying as hard as our son did. “Marley, I need to take her to the warmer, we need to check her out, and get her breathing better,” Peyton tells me, and my heart nearly stops.
“Okay,” I say. I unwillingly let her take my girl, and watch as she rushes her over to the warmer next to her brother.
Beau stays by me as we both watch Peyton and the other nurses work on her, calmly calling orders and getting the pediatrician on call in. Anxiety burns my veins, and I can feel myself following Dr. Ness’s instructions as she helps me deliver the placentas and get me cleaned up.
Mallory brings over my son. “Here, let’s get you some time with Baby Boy. Baby Girl is already doing better, she just neededa little help.” I nod, my mind not totally believing her. I won’t be okay until I know for sure she’s okay.
“Do you want to do some skin to skin? Try breastfeeding?” Mallory asks me.
“Yes, please,” I say. I need the contact with him, to know he’s okay. She and one of the nurses help me get into a better position now that Dr. Ness is done, and then Mallory unclips my hospital gown at my shoulders, pulling it down so it’s just barely covering my breasts. She sets him on my chest, his warm, soft skin immediately relaxing me. I’m not totally appeased, but this is helping more than I knew it could. I look up at Beau, who is now taking a few pictures on his phone. Marissa is still here, but I can tell he also wants the memories for himself. Baby Boy settles into my skin, his small fingers grasping and searching for me. My emotions are so conflicted, because there is so much joy in me at having him close by, but also, so much fear that my daughter isn’t okay.
“She’s doing fine, Momma,” Peyton comes over, my daughter in her hands. She has on a little pink hat with a bow, and there’s a small oxygen tube underneath her nose. “She just needs a little help adjusting. She inhaled some fluid and the cord around her neck didn’t help.”
My daughter is laid on my chest for the second time, and my fear vanishes. She’s no longer purple, but a healthy pink. Her eyes are closed as she sleeps, her breathing even and steady. She’s okay. She’s here.
Beau is giving me the biggest smile, his eyes completely awestruck. To be fair, I am right there with him. I can’t believe this is our life.
