CHAPTER 88: A PAINFUL LABOR
I woke up at 2 AM to wetness and pain that stole my breath.
"William." I shook his shoulder. "William wake up."
"What's wrong?" He sat up immediately, always on alert even in sleep.
"I think my water just broke." Another contraction hit and I doubled over. "But it's too early. I'm only thirty-four weeks."
He was out of bed and grabbing his phone before I finished speaking. "How far apart are the contractions?"
"I don't know, this is the second one—" Pain cut off my words, sharp and intense. "Oh God that one was bad."
"We're going to the hospital." He pulled on clothes with one hand while calling Dr Raymond with the other. "Yes, her water broke. Contractions are close together. We're leaving now."
I tried to stand and couldn't. Everything hurt in ways I wasn't prepared for.
"Kate, breathe." William was suddenly in front of me, his hands on my face. "Look at me. In through your nose, out through your mouth."
"I can't do this." Panic clawed up my throat. "It's too early, what if something's wrong—"
"Nothing's wrong." But his voice shook slightly. "Dr Raymond said early labor happens, that the baby is developed enough. You're both going to be fine."
Another contraction hit before I could respond. I grabbed William's arm hard enough to leave marks.
"Okay that's it, we're going right now." He lifted me carefully, carrying me down the stairs while somehow managing to grab my hospital bag.
The drive was a blur of pain and fear. William broke every speed limit, his jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth would crack.
"Tell me something." I gasped between contractions. "Distract me."
"What?"
"Anything. Tell me about your day, about work, I don't care just talk to me."
"Okay um—" He ran a red light. "Liam and Tina are talking about moving in together. He asked my advice on finding an apartment and I told him he's an idiot if he doesn't just ask her to marry him."
"Did he?" Another contraction stole my breath.
"Don't know yet. Kate, breathe. You're not breathing."
"I'm trying." Tears streamed down my face. "Why does it hurt this much already? I'm supposed to have hours of early labor."
"Every birth is different." He pulled into the hospital entrance. "Stay here, I'm getting a wheelchair."
"Don't leave me—"
"Thirty seconds." He was already out of the car.
True to his word he was back almost immediately with a wheelchair and two nurses.
"Mrs Dray, I'm Sarah and this is Mike." The older nurse helped me into the chair. "We're going to get you upstairs and checked out. How far apart are contractions?"
"Maybe three minutes?" I gripped the armrests. "Is that bad? That seems bad."
"That's active labor." She wheeled me fast toward the elevators. "Let's see how dilated you are."
The labor and delivery floor was quieter than I expected. They got me into a room and into a gown while William stood outside looking like he might pass out.
"You can come in Mr Dray." Mike called through the door.
William appeared instantly, his face pale. "Is she okay? Is the baby—"
"I'm right here." I reached for his hand. "Stop talking about me like I'm not in the room."
Dr Raymond rushed in still pulling on his coat. "Kate, glad you could make it. Let's see what we're working with."
The exam took less than a minute. His face stayed carefully neutral.
"You're already at seven centimeters." He pulled off his gloves. "This baby is coming today, probably within the next few hours."
"Hours?" My voice came out strangled. "I can't do this for hours."
"You absolutely can." He squeezed my shoulder. "But if you want an epidural, now's the time."
"Yes." William answered before I could. "She wants one."
"I can answer for myself." I glared at him. "But yes, I want all the drugs. Every single one."
The anesthesiologist came in twenty minutes later but by then the contractions were so close together I could barely breathe between them.
"Mrs Dray, I need you to stay very still." He positioned me on my side. "This will hurt for just a second then you'll start feeling relief."
The needle pinch was nothing compared to the contractions. Within ten minutes the pain started fading to pressure.
"Oh my God." I sank back against the pillows. "That's amazing. Why doesn't everyone get this immediately?"
"Because they usually have more time." Dr Raymond checked the monitors. "Your labor is progressing fast Kate. We're looking at maybe two hours until you're ready to push."
Two hours turned into ninety minutes. The epidural made everything bearable but I could still feel the pressure building, my body preparing for something I wasn't sure I was ready for.
"I'm scared." I whispered to William who hadn't left my side. "What if I can't do this? What if something goes wrong?"
"You can." He kissed my forehead. "You've survived everything else life threw at you. This is just one more thing."
"This is different. This is—" Another contraction, stronger than before. "Oh that's pressure. That's a lot of pressure."
Dr Raymond checked me again. "You're complete. Ten centimeters. Ready to start pushing?"
"No." But my body disagreed, already bearing down. "I don't think I have a choice."
"You don't." He smiled. "But Kate, you've got this. On the next contraction I want you to push. William, hold her leg. Sarah, get ready."
Everything became a blur of pushing and pressure and people telling me I was doing great when I felt like I was dying.
"I can't." I gasped after the fourth push. "I can't do this anymore."
"Yes you can." William's face was right next to mine. "Kate, you're so close. One more big push."
"I see the head." Dr Raymond called. "Come on Kate, give me everything you've got."
I pushed with strength I didn't know I had. Felt something give, heard William make a choked sound.
"That's it, one more." Dr Raymond's voice stayed calm. "Nice and easy."
The next push brought a moment of intense pressure then sudden relief. And then—
Crying. A baby crying.
"It's a girl." Dr Raymond lifted her up, all red and screaming and absolutely perfect. "Kate, William, meet your daughter."
They placed her on my chest, warm and wet and still crying. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could only stare at this tiny person we'd made.
"She's so small." My voice broke. "Is she okay?"
"She's beautiful." Sarah wiped her down gently. "Good weight for thirty-four weeks, breathing on her own, crying nice and loud. Let me just check her vitals."
But I didn't want to let go. My arms wrapped around her instinctively.
"Just a minute Kate." Dr Raymond said gently. "We need to make sure everything's good."
They took her to the warmer and I felt the loss immediately. William squeezed my hand so hard it hurt.
"She's perfect." He wasn't crying but his voice was wrecked. "Kate, we made a person. A whole person."
"Five pounds three ounces." Sarah called out. "All fingers and toes accounted for. Lungs sound great. She's absolutely perfect."
They brought her back wrapped in a blanket, a tiny pink hat covering her dark hair. This time when they placed her in my arms, she'd stopped crying and was just looking around with unfocused eyes.
"Hi baby." I touched her impossibly small hand and she grabbed my finger with surprising strength. "I'm your mom. And this is your dad who's trying really hard not to cry right now."
"I'm not crying." William was definitely crying. "I'm just—" His voice broke completely. "She's so perfect Kate. How did we make something this perfect?"
"Teamwork." I couldn't stop staring at her face. "What should we name her?"
We'd been debating names for weeks but couldn't agree. Now looking at her, only one felt right.
"Evelyn." I said softly. "After my mom."
William nodded, tears streaming down his face. "Evelyn Dray. It's perfect."
Dr Raymond cleared his throat. "I hate to interrupt but we should get Evelyn to the NICU for observation. Just for a few hours since she's premature. Make sure everything's stable."
"No." I held her tighter. "She's fine, she's breathing, she's—"
"Kate." William touched my cheek. "Let them make sure she's healthy. We'll go with her."
"Promise?"
"I promise." He kissed me gently. "You did so good. I'm so proud of you."
They wheeled Evelyn out with William following close behind. I was left alone in the delivery room, exhausted and shaking and overwhelmed.
"You okay sweetie?" Sarah came back in to check my vitals. "That was quite the labor."
"I have a daughter." The words felt surreal. "I'm someone's mother."
"Best job in the world." She smiled. "Also the hardest. But you've got good support. Your husband barely left your side."
"He's pretty great." I closed my eyes. "Can I see them? Evelyn and William?"
"Give me thirty minutes to get you cleaned up and into a recovery room, then we'll wheel you down to the NICU." She started unhooking monitors. "Your little girl is lucky to have parents who fought so hard for her."
"We're lucky to have her." I said it and meant it completely.
An hour later they wheeled me into the NICU. William sat beside Evelyn's clear bassinet, his finger in her tiny hand, talking to her in a soft voice I'd never heard him use before.
"—and your mom is the bravest person I know. She fought so hard to make sure you'd be safe before you were even born. You're going to love her. Everyone does."
My heart cracked wide open.
"Hey." I wheeled closer. "How's our girl?"
"Perfect." He didn't look away from Evelyn. "They said everything checks out. We can probably go home in a few days."
"Good." I reached into the bassinet and touched her soft cheek. "Because I want to start our life together. All three of us."
William finally looked at me, his eyes red but happy. "This is it Kate. This is everything."
And looking at our daughter sleeping peacefully between us, at the man I'd accidentally fallen in love with, at the family we'd built from contracts and chaos and near disasters—
He was right.
This was everything.