Page 50 of Tiny Precious Secrets (The Brothers of Calloway Creek The Montanas #4)

Allie

I can’t help but make comparisons to when Christopher was born.

Laboring this time is like night and day.

With him, all the doctors and nurses knew the situation.

Every time one of them looked at me I could see the sadness in their forced smiles.

They all knew I was having a baby just to watch him die.

This time, the room is filled with nothing but excitement.

We decided a while ago to invite Bug to be here when the babies were born.

I’ve been doing everything I can to make her feel like we’re a family and in this together.

And while some teenagers would surely shy away from watching their siblings enter the world, she has embraced the idea with open arms, stipulating only that she not be ‘down there’ to see the ‘gross stuff.’

At the moment, however, it’s quiet. There are no doctors or nurses milling about, and Bug is asleep on the couch since it’s three in the morning. I dozed off a few times earlier, but since I’m having contractions now, I doubt that will happen again.

Asher repositions the pillow behind me. “How’re you holding up?”

“It’s not too bad. You should try and get some sleep. It might be a while yet, and you may not get a chance later.”

“I’m not sleeping if you’re not. We’re in this together.”

There was a whirlwind of activity when I got to the hospital seven hours ago. I was immediately induced, given an epidural, and hooked up to two baby monitors. They also did an ultrasound to make sure each of the twins are still presenting head down.

But now, it’s a waiting game. My contractions are getting closer together. They don’t hurt necessarily, but I do feel pressure which is keeping me from sleeping. Or maybe it’s the excitement that’s doing it. Or the anticipation. Or the underlying fear.

For over five months now, since the blood tests and ultrasounds showed everything was normal, I’ve been good. No panic attacks. And as far as I can tell, not much more than the usual pregnancy stress, albeit doubled for twins. But I’ve been generally happy, relaxed, and optimistic.

So why now, when the babies are mere hours away from being here, are all my nerves suddenly coming out to play?

What if one or both is deprived of oxygen during the birth?

What if one is born vaginally but the other has to be C-section?

What if they missed something on the blood test or ultrasounds?

“Allie? You okay, sweetheart?”

I open my eyes to see Asher studying the monitor by my head that’s reporting my vitals.

“I’m good.”

“Your heart rate just went up. I should get the doctor.”

“No. Don’t. I suddenly got super anxious over everything that can go wrong.”

He sits on the sliver of exposed bed next to me and draws me into his arms. “Nothing is going to go wrong.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“Babe, we made it this far. And just think, this time next week, when the babies are keeping both of us up all night, you’ll probably be wishing you were still pregnant.”

I shake my head. “You can bet your ass I won’t .

I’m ready to evict them, Asher. I’m just not ready for anything bad to happen.

I’m not sure I could take it.” I close my eyes.

“Does that make me selfish? Am I a horrible person for wanting two perfectly healthy babies? What if that’s more than I deserve? ”

He holds me tight. “Allie, everyone deserves healthy babies. But, sweetheart, if anyone deserved them more than others, it would be you.” He kisses my temple.

“There’s no reason to believe anything bad will happen.

If you end up having a C-section, it’s okay.

Women have them all the time. If the babies need a little oxygen, that will be okay too.

They have an excellent NICU here—just look at what they did for Mitchell.

We’re going to deal with whatever happens because they’re our children.

But I just know in my heart that everything will be all right.

You need to trust in that even if you can’t trust your own feelings, okay? ”

I nod. “Okay.”

The door opens and Hudson walks through. I haven’t seen him since before midnight.

“Didn’t you go home?” I ask.

He puts on a pair of latex gloves. “Shut my eyes for a few hours in the on-call room.”

“You’re staying here?”

“I wanted to be close for the big event. Now, let’s see how much progress you’ve made.” He checks my cervix and removes his gloves. “You’re about eight centimeters. It may go quickly now. I’ll check back in an hour. Try to get some rest.”

“Is it time?” Bug asks sleepily from the sofa.

“Not yet,” Asher tells her. “Go back to sleep.”

She rolls over and is out before Hudson leaves the room. Oh, to be a teenager. And not be in labor.

Asher crawls into the bed next to me, wraps me in a hug, and holds me until I drift off.

~ ~ ~

“Allie.”

A light overhead is turned on.

“Allie, wake up.”

When I fully realize where I am and what’s happening, I get nervous and excited all over again.

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m glad you got some sleep, but Hudson needs to check you again.”

“What time is it?”

“Just after four-thirty.”

I touch low on my stomach. “I feel pressure. But this time it’s different. It’s more.”

Hudson sticks a hand inside me for the fourth time since I’ve been here.

It’s strange how it doesn’t even bother me.

As if being pregnant and in labor somehow makes me immune from the embarrassment of having strangers, acquaintances, and near-enemies poke and prod me in my intimate places. “I think we’re ready.”

“Yeah, I feel ready.” I shift around. “Definitely stuff going on down there.”

“Don’t push yet, Allie. We’re going to move you to the OR.” He puts a hand on my arm. “I’ll see you in there.”

We know the drill. Hudson told us long ago that twins always get delivered in the operating room, even if they come vaginally. There’s always a chance the second one will turn breech or develop a situation where they need to convert to a C-section.

Asher leans over and kisses me. “You ready?”

Tears flood my eyes. Tears of stress. Tears of anticipation. Tears of hope.

I nod. “Can you call everyone and let them know what’s happening?”

Two nurses come in the room and start unhooking me from all the stuff I’ve been tethered to for the past nine hours. There’s a lot of activity and all the lights are on, but Darla is still sleeping. Lucky duck.

“Better wake her up or she’ll miss the big show,” I say.

A third nurse enters and hands Asher two sets of scrubs.

Not all hospitals require dads to wear scrubs for a vaginal delivery in the OR, but this one does.

Luckily, he won’t have to wear a mask—unless I do end up having a C-section—because I want to see every emotion on his face the first time he holds our children.

I choke up even more at the thought of it.

Normally the hospital doesn’t allow more than one family member in the OR for a twin delivery. But Hudson pulled some strings, and we got approval for Bug to attend. The second set of scrubs is for her.

Asher looks around the room. “When we come back to this room, we’ll be a family of five.” He almost falls onto the chair next to the bed. “Oh my god, this is really happening.”

It’s the first time I’ve ever seen hesitation on his face. As if he’s just now realizing the scope of the situation.

I clutch my belly, feeling a buildup of pressure. “You think?”

He stands confidently, pushing aside his own feelings or fears, strides over, and pulls my hand to his lips, kissing it. “We’ll see you in there,” he says, as my bed gets wheeled toward the door. “I love you.”

I crane my neck. “I love you too.”

My bed is pushed down a long hallway, through two sets of double doors, and then into a very cold, very bright, sterile-smelling operating room. I’m asked to scoot from my bed onto another—the OR table I presume, although it’s been modified for a vaginal birth.

I shiver. “It’s so cold.”

“Sorry about that,” a nurse says. “I’ll get you a warm blanket.”

As people shuffle around me, I glance around the room.

There are two infant warmers, tons of trays of various instruments, and lots and lots of people.

Hudson warned us how crowded the room would be.

There is a nurse assigned to me, and two more for the babies, a neonatologist, an anesthesiologist, and a surgical scrub tech on stand-by.

I’m surprised there’s enough room for Asher and Bug, who are escorted in moments later wearing full scrubs and hats, masks dangled around their necks just in case.

While Darla seems interested in everything going on around us, Asher’s eyes are laser-focused on mine. “You doing okay?”

I shrug. “It’s not exactly the intimate birth experience I’d hoped for.”

He laughs, finally looking around at all the commotion. “No, I guess it’s not.”

Hudson comes in the room, all doctored up in scrubs, a scrub cap, and a mask, looking ready for anything. “Let’s get started,” he says, taking a seat at the end of the bed as the nurse helps situate my lower half.

In going over my birth plan, I’d stressed how I despise stirrups.

Hudson said they wouldn’t be necessary unless he needed to increase medical intervention.

Meaning if there was a problem and he had to use forceps or vacuum extraction.

He has the nurse move the stirrups aside as his gaze sweeps across Asher and Bug. “You each want to take a leg?”

Bug steps back. “Um… I’m just here to watch, not participate.”

Hudson chuckles and motions for the nurse to step to the side opposite Asher.

“Are you feeling pressure?” Hudson asks, looking at one of the monitors. “It looks like you’re having a contraction.”

I nod.

“Okay, go ahead and push.”

I bear down and give it my all. Then I do it again. And again. And again. It seems like hours pass, but I’m sure it hasn’t been that long.

“How much longer is this going to go on?” I ask, feeling completely exhausted.