My body started to do what it was made to do, and soon I could do nothing but push and hope they got with the game.
Because seriously, it fucking hurt!
“Ahhhh! Michael get your fucking head out of your ass and catch this fucking kid!” I screamed.
Michael finally came unstuck and put his doctor hat on…or at least his thinking cap anyway.
He moved between my legs, then asked the stupidest question on earth at that point.
“Should I put on gloves?”
I would’ve kicked him had I not been holding onto my legs.
Instead, I closed my eyes, pushed, and daydreamed about shooting our kid out of my vagina and hitting him with her.
Which seemed good in theory, but probably not good for real.
My mind didn’t really care at that point.
“How come nobody waited for your family to arrive…ahhhh! My eyes!” Nico screamed, covering his eyes as he got a good look at my vagina.
I would be embarrassed…later.
Right now, I couldn’t muster up the ability to care, though.
“Move out of the way, hijo. I’ve got to get in there!” My mother yelled.
I didn’t look at her either.
I couldn’t.
My eyes were on Michael as he did things between my legs that I hoped he and I could both forget later on.
Then I swear to you, he stuck his hand into my vagina and I saw stars…and not the good kind.
“Owww! What the ever loving fuck, Michael!” I shrieked.
“The cord was around her neck,” he rumbled softly. “All better now. Push again when you feel the next contraction.”
I pushed again at the next contraction. But not because he’d said to. Because I needed to. My body wouldn’t let me not do it.
“Owww, ow, ow, ow, ow,” I chanted over and over again.
“Would you grow the fuck up, Nico?” Georgia asked, shoving him out of the doorway where he was still covering his eyes and facing the opposite direction of me and my ‘big ‘ol vagina.’
Georgia came to my side and swept my hair back off my face.
“You’re doing good, almost done,” she soothed.
I nodded, panting as the worst pain yet washed over me.
“Fuck!”
“Language, hija,” my mother admonished from my other side.
When had she gotten there?
“The head’s out,” Hannah and Lennox said at the same time, standing at the end of the bed and looking at the humongous child that was trying to come out and being incredibly slow about it. “Your amniotic sac is still intact.”
Then, suddenly, in a great rush of relief, our baby slid out.
Michael made a hook with his finger and broke the amniotic sac, and suddenly I could hear my baby, who was very unhappy with being forced from her comfy, warm home. By her daddy no less.
“Alright, Nikki! Let’s get this baby delivered! Son, move out of the way!” Dr. Mead ordered Nico.
Once Nico moved, though, he came to a stop. “Well, I sure didn’t expect this! For your first child no less!”
I laughed.
What else could I do?
“I’ve never seen that before,” Hannah said in awe.
“Me neither,” Lennox agreed.
“Oh, my God, she’s beautiful!” Georgia cried softly at my side.
“Can I look yet?” Nico whined.
“Alright, let’s get this placenta delivered. Daddy, are you going to cut the cord?” Dr. Mead asked jovially.
I moved my eyes away from our daughter to Michael, who was staring at her in awe.
“Yeah, I think I will,” he rasped.
Lennox handed him the hemostats to clamp the cord, and then a pair of scissors once he’d done that.
Then, with the utmost care, he carried our little girl over to the warmer, where a team of nurses were already set up waiting for her.
When they’d arrived, I don’t know, but they were there.
And I was so happy I could scream.
I delivered the placenta, and waited for them to bring the baby to me.
But I kept waiting and waiting and waiting.
I could see them all looking back at me in concern, then back at the baby.
Michael was busy washing up at the sink, so he didn’t see what was going on, but I knew immediately something was wrong.
“What’s wrong with her?” I asked urgently. “Tell me!”
The nurses all looked at each other, and one of them, Lucille, broke off, picking up my daughter and carrying snugly in her arms.
She brought her over to me, and I reached for her, pulling her into my arms like they’d taken the most precious gift away from me without plans of giving her back. They gave me teasing bits and pieces of her until I was a whimpering, needful mess.
The moment she was in my arms I felt at peace.
She was absolutely perfect.
Dark brown hair like me. Cheeks like Michael. Long fingers and toes like Michael. A heart shaped chin like me.
Then she opened her eyes, and I immediately knew something was wrong.
Because the entire iris of her eye was covered in a milky white, circular film. In both eyes.
“What’s wrong with her?” I cried, looking up to Michael for help.
He frowned and walked over, eyes on our baby, and immediately scowled.
“What it looks like is a cataract,” he said, running his thumb over the baby’s cheek lovingly.
His eyes met mine and they’d never looked more serious.
“She’s fine,” he said soothingly.
“A cataract isn’t fine!” I cried. “It’s not fine at all!”
My raised voice must’ve made the baby annoyed because she started to cry.
Michael immediately reached forward and took her out of my arms, and I felt the loss like a punch to the chest.
Michael brought our baby up to his chest and cradled her, brushing his nose along the top of her head as he breathed her in.
“Look at me, Nikki,” he ordered.
I peeled my eyes away from where his hand was holding her under her bottom, and looked at him.
He wasn’t worried.
Not even a little bit.
And that was what I needed to finally gain some control.
“What do we do?” I asked softly.
He leaned forward and took a seat on the side of my bed, running his hand along the length of my cheek.
“We let the pediatrician look at her. We talk to my father. My mother. But we do it all together. Because we can do nothing less,” he whispered.
A tear slipped down my cheek, and I looked down at my hands. Seeing them trembling, I took a deep breath and said, “I love you Michael. I’m sorry for freaking out.”
He pulled me to his chest, and my head rested next to the entire length of our baby’s body, and I just knew everything would be alright.
Why, you ask?
Because Michael said it would, that’s why.
***
Four hours later
“So you’re saying she’ll need to undergo surgery for this within the first three months of her life,” I asked the pediatrician I’d painstakingly chosen out of many in the East Texas area.
He nodded. “Having those taken care of is imperative. If you don’t, it could become malignant. It could stay the same. Or they could mean she’s blind for the rest of her life. And this is an easy fix. It’s relatively painless, but it is something she’ll have to be put to sleep for. Which is always a risk.”
I closed my eyes as tears started to form.
“Thank you, Dr. Rush,” Michael said, offering his hand. “We’ll follow up with the doctor in Dallas next Tuesday, like you said. We really appreciate you coming out and seeing her on your day off.”
I smiled through my tears.
That was awfully nice of Dr. Rush.
Most doctors didn’t do things like that.
Which was why I’d chosen Dr. Rush in the first place.
Bringing my knees up to my chest, I moved Carolina up until she was resting on my upraised legs, and stared at her.
She was so beautiful.
And perfect.
And it broke my heart that she had to have this done at such a young age.
But I didn’t have to worry about that now.