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I allowed her to push my wheelchair toward the bed. “What if the baby’s stuck in the birth canal? What if it’s been stuck for a while? What if it can’t breathe?” Fear choked me. I didn’t even know if it was a boy or a girl. I wanted to be surprised.
“Everything’s going to be fine.”
Soon, sirens sounded close by. Samuel disappeared to let the paramedics in.
Everything else was a rush. I was lifted on a stretcher, and we managed to reach the hospital in time. We arrived in the delivery room, and a midwife touched my shoulder before she took her position between my legs. When our baby’s rhythmic heartbeat sounded, I breathed a sigh of relief. “Explain to me what exactly you’re feeling.”
“I feel pressure down there as if I need to go to the toilet.”
“Can you give in to the pressure just like you would when you go to the toilet?”
I nodded, and suddenly, the pain increased drastically. What had been an intense, uncomfortable pressure before became hard to tolerate.
“Now?”
I did. The pressure shifted, but continued and so did the pain. “Good, pause.”
I stopped.
Samuel held my hand, looking disheveled and concerned. “Is everything okay?”
The midwife didn’t look away from me but nodded. “We’re in the home stretch.”
I almost laughed at her wording, but then she said, “Again.”
And I tried to allow the pressure once more despite the intense pain. This went on for a while until I felt like I couldn’t go on anymore. “The head’s out! Give me your hand.”
I gave her my hand, and she put it on a small head. I swallowed, completely stunned.
“Ready for another push?”
I nodded even though I wasn’t. This time, the pressure lessened considerably, and suddenly, the midwife put a baby on my chest. I stared down at the small human, then at Samuel, unable to believe that I’d given birth. And then I began crying, impossibly grateful for what my body had accomplished, how far it had taken me, and what kind of gift it had just given me. I’d never hate it again for small mishaps, not after the miracle it had just granted me.
I touched my baby and kissed its head. Samuel rubbed my back, his face alight with awe.
“What is it?” I whispered after a while. Samuel seemed to have forgotten all about finding out the gender of our baby. The midwife smiled and showed us. “A little boy.”
I sobbed, still completely overwhelmed.
Samuel wrapped an arm around me and kissed my temple. He looked a little dazed too, as if everything had gone too fast, and in some way, it had.
“He was worth fighting for, don’t you think?” I whispered, peering down at our baby.
“I fought for you and him because you both are worth it.” Samuel touched his forehead to mine. “I’m so glad you pushed me so hard. I would have never forgiven myself if somethinghad happened to either of you because I wasn’t strong enough to resist.”
“It’s the past. This is our future.” I stroked our son’s tiny head. “Sergio Mione.”
When Emma finally fell asleep with Sergio on her chest, I picked up my phone and called Danilo. He picked up after the second ring. “Samuel.”
The word was clipped. He was still pissed at me for the accident. “Emma gave birth to a son.”
Silence. “Is she okay? How is he? Are they in the hospital?”
“They’re both asleep, but he’s perfectly healthy, and Emma is exhausted but happy. I thought you’d want to know.”
“Thanks for giving me a call,” Danilo said.
“I’ll send you a couple of photos. Will you and Sofia visit soon?”