Page 80 of Loving Josy
“We’re having a baby,” I say out loud, the reality crashing down on me.
Josy looks up at me then, her fear softening into something else entirely. Her hand reaches out to touch my cheek, her voice gentle. “Yes, we are.”
Grabbing her hospital bag, I loop it over my shoulder, guide Josy toward the door, and help her down the stairs. Every instinct in me screams to rush, to go faster, but I force myself to match her pace.
When we reach the car, I open the door for Josy, helping her inside before sprinting to the driver’s seat.
“Hold on,” I say, starting the car and gripping the wheel tightly.
Josy laughs softly, the sound soothing my frazzled nerves. “You’re doing great, Noah. Just get us there in one piece.”
I glance at her, my heart swelling even in the middle of all this chaos. “You’re the one doing great, Josy. Let’s meet our baby girl.”
I look at the clock on the dashboard and see that it’s only one in the morning. “Should I call the doctor? Violet? Your mom? My mom?” I ask Josy.
“Yes. Call the doctor first, then my mom and your mom. And lastly, Violet. I know they’ll all want to be there when Everly arrives.”
I nod and start making the calls, my hands shaking as I fumble with my phone. Once I’ve informed all the women in our lives that we’re on our way to the hospital, I take a deep, calming breath and refocus on driving.
The forty-five-minute drive feels like an eternity. Josy’s contractions come every five minutes, and each one makes mychest tighten. I hate seeing her in pain, wishing there were something I could do to make it easier. I settle for breathing with her through each contraction, hoping it helps, even if just a little.
When we finally reach the hospital, I park as close to the emergency room entrance as possible. “Wait here. I’ll grab a wheelchair,” I tell her as I shut the car door.
I sprint to the entrance, rushing straight to the nurse’s station. “I’m having a baby!” I blurt out, barely catching my breath.
The nurse smiles knowingly, guides me to a wheelchair, and I dash back to Josy. Once she’s settled in the chair, I push her back to the emergency room where the same nurse is already waiting. She guides us through a maze of hallways until we reach the maternity ward.
The nurses work quickly, wheeling Josy into a room and preparing her. They help her change into a hospital gown and place bands on her belly to monitor the baby. Not long after, a doctor comes in to check how far along she is.
“Mom, you’re about five centimeters. This baby is coming soon. Do you want an epidural?” the doctor asks Josy.
“Yes, please,” Josy replies, her voice a mix of determination and exhaustion.
“Okay, I’ll get that ordered and also call your OB to see how far she is from the hospital,” the doctor says before leaving the room.
Five hours have passed, and I’ve had to watch the woman I love endure unimaginable pain. She was supposed to receive an epidural, but the anesthesiologist still hasn’t arrived. Josy hastransformed from the loving woman I know, into a fierce force of nature. She’s part warrior, part monster.
Our mothers and Violet are here, waiting anxiously. The doctor has been checking on Josy every hour, but now, after all the waiting, it’s finally time for her to push.
I hold one of Josy’s hands in mine, squeezing it gently, trying to offer whatever encouragement I can. “You’re doing amazing, Josy. Just a little more,” I whisper, my voice calm despite the chaos around us.
But the monster within her surfaces again, and she turns her fury toward me. “Noah, I need you to stay quiet!” she snaps between gasps.
“This is all your fault!” she yells, her voice rising with another contraction.
“Why did I let you do this to me?” Her voice breaking and a sob escapes as another wave of pain hits her.
I don’t take any of it to heart. I know she’s in agony, and if I could, I’d take her pain in a heartbeat. But right now, all I can do is stay by her side and be strong for her.
Watching her labor, seeing her strength, is nothing short of a miracle. She’s doing something extraordinary, and I feel both helpless and in awe. The room feels heavy with tension, filled with muffled cries and the quiet encouragement of the nurses. Time seems to stretch, every second dragging on.
After what feels like an eternity but is really just five pushes, the room fills with the most incredible sound I’ve ever heard—the cry of our baby. Relief washes over me as Josy collapses back against the bed, tears streaming down her face. I can’t stop looking at the wriggly baby being placed on Josy’s chest. She’s so tiny, with a full head of dark hair and pale, delicate skin. My chest tightens as a wave of emotions crashes over me.
As soon as Everly is placed on Josy’s chest, she stops crying. It’s as if she knows she’s finally with her mom. I lean down andkiss Josy’s cheek, my lips lingering as I try to ground myself in this moment. Josy turns to me with a big smile, and the monster from a few minutes ago is gone, replaced with the woman I love. Her joy is contagious, and before I know it, tears are streaming down my face too. She places her forehead against mine, wiping away my tears with her free hand.
“You did a great job, sweetheart,” I whisper. With a trembling finger, I reach out and gently caress Everly’s cheek. “She’s perfect. Just like you.”
Josy’s smile widens, her eyes never leaving our daughter. “She looks just like you,” she says, her voice soft with awe.
