“Breathe, Katydid. We’re almost home free.”
Breathe, he says, like that’s so easy. Let him try squeezing an eight-pound baby through his pee-hole and then talk to me. I close my eyes tightly. Beth made this shit look so easy with Gabby.
“Bite me,” I growl, wincing as the contraction starts again.
“I will later, sweetness,” Torch promises, and if he didn’t look so adorable with his hair all mussed up and wearing his “Proud Dad” t-shirt, I’d probably punch him in the junk. Instead, I stick my tongue out at him.
“You doing okay, Katie?” Bethie asks.
I look over at the next bed. Beth is there with Skull feeding her ice chips. She’s a month early, and I’m a month late, but these kids are bound and determined to come out together. I don’t know who Skull and Torch paid off or threatened—I’m not even going to ask. But, somehow, they broke every rule and put us together in the same birthing room.
Peanut, which is what Torch has taken to calling our child, is bound and determined to come out first. I’m in so much pain, but I’m okay with it—totally good, if he would just fucking hurry.
“You didn’t tell me this hurt so fucking bad.”
“Some things you shouldn’t know until you have to.” Then Bethie gasps, and I can tell she’s just started a contraction.
“You remember that time you made me stick a lighter to that turtle’s ass to see if it would make it shoot out of his shell like in the cartoons?”
“Christo!” Skull mutters.
“Made you? That was all on you! I told you, turtles don’t do that in real life,” Bethie huffs.
“What was it you got the big idea for, then?” I ask her, knowing what she’ll answer, but we both need a distraction from the pain.
“I made you snails, remember?”
“Fuck me sideways,” Torch mutters. I attempt to give him a grin, though that takes a little more effort than I have left in me, I’m sure.
“She roasted them with a lighter. Just saying, Hunter, I’m never going to France and ordering snails.”
“I’ll make note.”
“Fuck!” I growl as a contraction hits harder than it ever has.
“You’re crowning, Katie,” the doctor informs me. “I just need you to really push when this next contraction starts, and we’ll have this baby out of here in no time.”
“You loved those snails. You ate every single one of them!” Bethie cries.
“There was only… Ahhhh!” I break off to yell. “Two!” I finish while the doctor and Torch are screaming for me to push. “And I only ate them… Motherfucker!” I scream again. “Because you dared me!”
“I know. I could literally dare you to do anything and you would. That’s how you got your first kiss from Johnny Paul. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Johnny Paul?” Skull asks, and I’m trying to focus, but God, this having-a-baby thing is not the cakewalk I thought it would be.
“Take a breather, Katie. This next push will get him out. I need you to push him out this time. Get ready,” the doctor says.
“You got this, sweetness. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
I look up into Hunter’s eyes and breathe, taking my strength from him and the sound of Bethie’s voice.
“Fish-lips Johnny,” I clarify. “All the girls said his lips felt cold and slimy. Bethie dared me to kiss him to find out.” I huff, feeling the contraction start.
“Were they?” Hunter asks.
I can’t answer because I feel the contraction slide from my back all around my stomach and I know this is the big one. I’m pushing my baby out now. I can do this.
“Turns out, he was more of an octopus tongue. Felt like he had eight of those in your mouth at once,” Bethie cries.
“How the fuck do you know that?”
“Well, after Katie bragged, I had to try it too, Skull.”
His response is lost as I scream until I’m sure I strip a vocal cord. I bear down as hard as I can, then feel the baby leave my body. As the doctors declare my victory, I fall back on the pillow, exhausted. I open my eyes when I hear my baby’s cry.
“Is he okay?” I ask, my voice hoarse and weak.
The nurse comes over holding a naked, squirming baby boy, placing him on my chest.
“He’s beautiful, Katydid. Just like his momma,” Hunter says, his voice hoarse as he comes back to me, brushing his hand across my hair and kissing my forehead. A few minutes later, a nurse comes over and places the baby on my chest.
“Ten fingers and ten toes, I’d say he’s perfect,” she says.
I look down at our beautiful baby boy with a small patch of sandy blonde hair on his head and these perfect little lips and tiny fingers, trying to wrap around one of mine. He’s so quiet, staring up at me and Hunter as if he’s trying to decide if this is a good thing. I see a little smile almost come across his lips. Can newborns smile? My son can. I look up at Hunter, feeling completely at peace for the first time in my life.
“Look what we did,” I gush, my happiness boiling over with tears in my eyes.