“My vag is going to be ruined after this. Three kids, Con. Three. It’s just never going to be the same.” She grips my hand as another contraction takes hold.
She’s silent and focused all the way through it. Just panting and blowing and I just love her so fucking much.
“Your vag is perfect. You’ve had two caesareans, Meebs, so stop being a drama queen. Your vag is fine.”
Sian pops her head up from between Meebs’ legs. I have to look away when they examine her. I know it’s medical and has to be done, but I get this angry knot in my chest and belly when someone touches what’s mine. Irrational I know, but it is what it is.
Sian pulls off her gloves, disposes of them, then turns and faces us.
“Okay Nina, here’s the thing. You’ve been here for five hours now.”
“Not through choice,” Meebs interrupts her.
Sian lets out a long sigh, her patience wearing thin. Meebs wanted a home birth, the doctors said no because our boys had to be delivered by emergency C-section. Once they explained the complications that could arise, I said no. Hence the anger, and the look that I’m continually getting from my wife.
“We’ve let you go an hour longer than we normally would, but you’ve made no progress. You’re still only around three centimetres dilated and the baby is starting to show signs of distress. I’m gonna call the doctor down and let them discuss your options with you.”
She turns and leaves. Meebs looks up at me and I know what’s coming.
She bursts into tears.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so crap at this.”
I climb up on the bed with her, kissing first her belly, then her mouth.
“You’re not crap at this. You’re just too little.”
“It’s your fault. Our kids all have big fat heads like you.” I chuckle at her instant mood change. Meebs is the happiest pregnant woman I know. She loves being pregnant and I fucking love her being pregnant. That’s why she’s about to give birth to our third child, in less than five years. There’s just something that brings out the caveman in me when I watch her belly growing. Not that she ever gets very big. She moans that she’s huge, but she just looks like she has a basketball shoved up her T-shirt.
She tried for a natural delivery with both boys, but that didn’t work out. She was hoping that because we’re having a girl this time, she might be smaller and she’d be able to do it, but that’s now being ruled out. I hate that she’s disappointed but at the end of the day, why would any woman choose to put themselves through that, seriously?
“Our kids don’t have fat heads, they have perfect heads, they’re perfect in every way. Just like their mum.”
Shit, more tears.
I carry Buzz on my hip, while Jett walks beside me, proudly carrying the pink teddy bear that we went and bought for their new baby sister this morning. Mia Grace Amoeba Reed was born safely at seven-eighteen last night. She’s tiny, pink, pale and perfect and looks just like her mum, which I’m more than pleased about. Poor Meebs didn’t get a look in with the boys, the pair of them are clones of each other, and of me. Brownish blond hair and blue-green eyes. Jett’s the eldest and is about to start school in September. He’s loud and noisy, can’t sit still for more than five minutes and is always asking questions. He started playing football last season and is already the captain of his team.
Buzz… Yeah, we let Jett choose his name, Buzz being the better option over Nemo or Lightening McQueen. He’s another little livewire. Loves music. I’m already teaching him the guitar and drums. Jett loves music too but can’t sit still long enough for me to teach him anything.
We get buzzed into the ward and I smile and nod at the midwives at their station. They all swoon, what can I say? I’m still Conner fucking Reed at the end of the day.
I’m not out front and centre of the music world so much these days. I write, I produce and I manage.
Mitchell White is the young kid that handed me some songs he wrote, the night before Jet died. I’d completely forgotten about them, but Meebs found them about six months later and we both knew they were good.