“You won’t think less of me if I get an epidural?”
He laughed a little. “No, Baby, I won’t. I think it might save our marriage.”
“I just wanted everything to be perfect,” I whispered as he leaned down to embrace me.
“It’s up to you, Ella. I’ll stand here until the end of time listening to you yell, taking your insults, but it’s killing me not being able to help you at all. Watching you in this much pain tears me apart. Plus,” he said with a gentle smile, “I think you’re scaring some of the other moms in the maternity wing.” My lips turned up into a smile, but then turned right back around as another contraction came upon me. This time I buried my face in my pillow and stifled my screams until it was over, trying not to break Porter’s fingers as he held my hand. When it finally subsided, years later, I looked up at him with fresh tears in my eyes.
“Ok, I think it’s time for an epidural.” He let out a huge sigh of relief. I pushed the little button on my bed and heard a voice come over a speaker system telling me she’d be there soon. When the nurse appeared, I was just finishing another torturous contraction.
“How are you doing?” The nurse asked with sincere concern.
“I think I want an epidural.” I said, trying to hide the shame in my voice.
“Ok, well, there are a few things to consider. First, let’s do an exam to see how far along you are now. If you’re too far along you won’t be able to get one. Do you feel any pressure when you have a contraction? Urges to push?”
“No,” I answered. “Just the distinct feeling like someone is ripping my stomach to pieces.” My comment came out more snarky than I had anticipated.
“Ok, you’re going to feel a little pressure now,” she said, breezing past my rude comment. She lied when she said ‘a little’ and I cried out from the seriously uncomfortable feeling of someone trying to shove their fist inside my cervix. “Alright, you’re at four centimeters so you can still get an epidural if you want one.”
“FOUR?” Porter and I both cried at the same time. The nurse tried to hide the fact that she rolled her eyes at us and then patiently continued.
“Yes, four. Would you like me to call the anesthesiologist?”
“I’ve been sitting here in agony for hours and you’re telling me I’m only at FOUR centimeters?” This woman was a pro because she did not even bat an eyelash at me.
“This is very typical, I can assure you, Mrs. Masters. This is your first delivery. You could be here for hours and not make any progress. Now, would you like for me to call the anesthesiologist?”
Oh, she was good. “Yes, I would very much like the epidural.”
Epidurals are scary. In theory, you go into it knowing what is supposed to happen, but when someone actually tells you to sit still, through your contractions, while they put a needle into your spine, it very quickly becomes terrifying. There’s no way I would have been able to get through it had I not been leaning up against Porter’s chest. I think the doctors planned it that way. They know you’re going to freak out, so they tell you to lean against the one person who is supposed to make you feel better. Leaning up against him, smelling him, almost took away the fear, but not totally. Wood and soap, those scents are what got me through it.
Slowly and gradually, over the next thirty minutes I started to feel the pain lessen until, eventually, I felt nothing. Well, I felt nothing except exhaustion. It was four in the morning and I could barely keep my eyes open.
“Babe,” I heard Porter’s raspy voice but couldn’t bring myself to turn my head to look at him. “Get some sleep. I’m going to be here the whole time.” I felt him take my hand and it was the last thing I thought about before I fell asleep.
Even though I was exhausted, I knew there was no way I was going to be able to sleep. It felt like there was sand in my eyes, they were so dry and red. I wanted to close them so badly and just fall asleep like this, with Ella’s hand in mine, but I made sure to keep my eyes open. The two most important people in my life were lying in a hospital bed and if something was going to go wrong, I was going to be the first person to know—and to get help.
I tried to keep the dark thoughts away. I tried to focus on the fact that this was a happy occasion. Hospitals didn’t always have to be a place where you almost lost the one person you love the most. It could also be the place where you found a brand new person to love. I tried to focus on that. We weren’t here to lose; we were here to gain.