Stanton Bliss: Stanton (18 page)

Bridget and I giggle, and the blood drains from Joshua’s face.

“That’s not funny, Cameron,” Adrian spits. “You’re going to be fine, baby. You are the toughest chick I know.” He wraps his large arms around me and squeezes me tight.

I smile. “I know.” And it’s true. I feel damn invincible at this moment in time. Bring it. Bring it the fuck on and give me my baby.

Adrian passes me my overnight bag. “I packed you both some clothes, and I put in some clothes for the baby, too.”

I smile brightly. “Styling baby Stanton already?”

He throws me a wink. “Of course.”

Bridget cuddles me. “Oh, Tash. I love you. Everything will be fine. I am waiting out here just in case you need me,” she whispers into my hair.

I nod and feel a little bit bad that I didn’t want anyone but Joshua with me at the birth. This is such a precious moment, one I only want to share with him.

Cameron wraps his arms around me. “Pain management, chick. There are no medals for bravery.” He kisses me on the cheek and shakes Joshua’s hand.

I nod and fake a smile. “I just want to ring Mum quickly.” I dial Mum’s number.

“Hello, darling,” she answers, and for the first time today I feel teary. I really wanted her here.

“Hi, Mum. My water has broken and I’m being induced.”

“Oh, it’s going to be wonderful. Enjoy it.”

I nod and feel a little better.

“I love you, darling. Good luck and ring me as soon as you can. I will sit by the phone.”

“Ok.” I hesitate as my eyes tear up. “I love you.”

As if sensing my fear, she speaks again. “Tash, you’re going to be ok. Don’t be scared. Go and get your baby.”

I nod with renewed purpose. “Bye, Mum.” I hang up the phone and turn to the others.

“Let’s do this shit,” I state, and turn and walk back to reception with them all cheering me on from behind. I feel like Rocky Fucking Balboa.

We are steered down the corridor by the nurse who eventually opens a door at the end of the hall. Joshua and I walk in sheepishly; this is frigging scary. If these walls could talk, I’m sure they would have some gruesome stories.

She places four towels on the bed. “I’m sure you two would like to shower and make yourself more comfortable before we put you on the drip.”

My eyes find Joshua in his dirty polo get up and I smile.

“Thank you.”

He nods and seems to remember, for the first time, what he is wearing.

She leaves the room and I walk into the bathroom. “Oh, look! A spa bath.”

“You can forget it,” Joshua mumbles from the other room. “We are not getting in that spa bath.”

I smile. He’s so right, I can think of nothing worse than sitting in a bloody bath.

I shower, get into my gown, then into bed. Joshua showers and changes into new clothes and sits next to the bed, too, taking my hand. He’s quiet, too quiet.

The nurse comes in, places the cannula in the back of my hand and puts the medication into the drip. My heartbeat is pumping so damn hard, it will be a miracle if I don’t have a heart attack before the birth even begins. She hooks me back up to the heart rate monitor and we, once again, hear the magic of our baby’s heartbeat.

She eventually leaves, and Joshua blows out a relieved breath as he takes my hand and kisses the back of it.

“Now we wait,” he whispers.

I smile. “Are we sure about the names?” I ask.

His face falls. “Don’t you like them anymore?”

“Yes, it would help if it didn’t know so many people. It’s annoying.” I sigh.

Joshua bites his bottom lip to contain his smile. One of his prerequisites is that he doesn’t know anyone with the same name. Do you know how hard that is? He knows one of everything.

The door opens and a tall young man walks in. “Hello.” He shakes our hands. “I’m Jeremy Seymour. I’m the resident anaesthetist.”

“Hello.”

“I just wanted to go through an epidural with you.”

“No, I’m fine, thanks,” I reply. Bloody hell, they really do try and force this shit down your throat.

He smiles warmly. “That’s fine. I just want you to know that there is only a small window where you can have it, and once that has passed, it’s too late.”

I nod. “Thank you. I am really focused on doing this naturally.”

The doctor smiles warmly. “Of course. Good luck.”

The doctor leaves us in peace.

Josh takes my hand. “‘Tash, they all keep going on about this, maybe you should do it. Like Cam said, there is no bravery medal at the end.”

I smile. “Josh, I am stronger than you think.”

“I know,” he admits nervously.

“Trust me. I can do this.”

Seven hours later

“Ahhhhh, Get me a fucking epidural. Get it to me
now
!” I scream as I writhe around in pain on the bed. Joshua is wet with perspiration and has thrown up four times just from stress. This isn’t childbirth of natural free love and all that glow. This is an exorcism of The Devil, where he is ripping himself out of my body.

I shake my head at Joshua frantically. “No. No. Take me home, Josh. Take me home. Take me home. Take me home.”

“Baby,” Joshua whispers. “Calm down.”

“It is not oh fucking kaaaay!” I scream.

“Natasha.”

“I don’t want a baby anymore. I don’t want a baby anymore. You have it,” I whisper frantically. I’m wet with perspiration and the tears are running down my face. Holy fucking shit. This hurts. Like murdering death pain, hurts.

“I want an epidural. Get that guy back. Get him back.” I point to the door and start to panic as I feel another contraction coming.

I screw up my face and clench. “Ahhhh!” I cry as I curl up in a ball.

“This is ridiculous,” Joshua cries. “Get her an epidural now!”

“Too late, Joshua,” Dr. Walton tells him. “She’s nine centimetres dilated. Almost time to push.”

Joshua’s wide eyes meet mine. Oh dear God. I’m going to die. I am going to die today.

I start to shake my head. “No, no, no.”

Dr. Walton smiles calmly.

My frantic eyes meet Joshua’s again. “I can’t do this, Josh,” I sob. “This is too hard. I can’t do it. Knock me out, give me a C-section.”

Joshua’s eyes dart from mine to the doctor’s in panic.

“I want to go to the bathroom,” I announce.

Joshua raises his eyebrows in question and I nod. “Yes, I want to go.”

“No, Natasha, you have to stay in bed at this stage,” Dr. Walton replies. “If you need to go, we will get you a bed pan.” I scowl. Oh, this is horrible.

I’m beside myself. I don’t think I can do this. I’m crying uncontrollably.

Joshua looks to the doctor and nurse in the room. “Can you give us a moment alone, please?”

“Of course.”

I watch as they both leave the room.

Joshua bends and kisses my head.

“Presh, please don’t cry.”

“Josh,” I whisper. “I can’t do this.” The tears run freely down my face. “Please get them to C-section me.”

Joshua grabs my face. “You listen to me.” His voice is calm and assertive.

My scared eyes search his.

“If I could have this baby for us, you know that I would.”

The tears run down my face.

“You have got this, Natasha.”

I stare at him as my heart races and, for some reason, the past comes flashing through my mind. I see the handsome nineteen–year-old university student who loved me with all of his heart. Then I see the dominant man I met seven years later.

“You can do this,” whispers my controlled and devoted husband.

I drop my head. We have been through so much, so much pain to be together and yet here I am in the pinnacle of our relationship, and I am crumbling like a flake.

“I know you can do this. Be the brave woman I know that you are,” Joshua whispers. His eyes are full of fear, but more than that, I can see love. He loves me so much.

“Josh,” I whisper through my fear.

He puts his finger to my lip to quieten me. “Remember what we learned in birthing class.”

I nod.

He kisses me tenderly and his tongues sweeps through my open lips.

He pulls my hair back aggressively so that I have to look in his eyes and, like a miracle, the dominant gesture he usually saves for our bedroom instantly eases my panic.

“I love you,” he whispers and I smile through my tears. “Bring me our child.”

Goosebumps scatter over my skin and I nod.

“Without hesitation, without fear, give birth to our baby.”

I smile as my tears flow. He’s right, there is no easy way to do this. Nobody else can do this for us. It’s up to me and me alone.

I need to get myself together.

“I love you,” I whisper.

“I know you can do this.” He kisses me again and I taste my salty tears on my lips.

“Don’t be scared,” he whispers.

“I’m not,” I assure him with renewed purpose. “I will.”

And as if the heavens have opened up, I now have clarity. I can see the end. I want our baby.

Joshua goes to the door and calls the doctor back in.

I close my eyes and ride through the next contraction in silence. Dr. Walton checks me again.

“Natasha, on the next contraction, I want you to push.”

I nod, close my eyes and wait until the contraction comes.

“Now, Natasha, push now.”

Joshua

I am at Natasha’s side holding her hand. She closes her eyes and she pushes. She pushes with everything that she has and, as if by some miracle, our baby’s head appears. Oh dear God. I stay next to my love and don’t have time to think. The next contraction comes almost immediately and she pushes again.

“That’s is, baby,” I whisper appreciatively. For fifteen minutes she continues to push.

“You are going great, Presh,” I chant. “Keep going, baby.”

I feel like I am having an out of body experience. I’m in my own private world watching this from above and I’m terrified.

The contraction comes. She pushes again and finally, I see the baby slide into the doctor’s hands.

I grab Natasha into an embrace and she cries in relief. “You did it, Presh. You did it.”

“Joshua, come and cut the cord,” Dr, Walton instructs.

My heart hammers in my chest and I hold the scissors with shaky hands to cut the umbilical cord. I grab Tash in an embrace again, I can’t believe this is happening.

Tash half laughs and half cries and we both look toward the baby and hear a loud scream.

I smile, as I am overcome with emotion

“It’s a little girl.” Dr. Walton smiles warmly.

“A girl?” I whisper in wonder. We didn’t want to know the sex before the birth.

The nurse wraps her in a blanket and immediately weighs her. “Six pounds, which is a good size for an early baby.” She smiles.

I stand completely entranced as I watch the tiny girl in the nurse’s arms. She wraps her in a pink blanket and hands her to me.

My heart stops.

This baby, this tiny piece of Natasha and me… I have no words as the overwhelming feeling of love infiltrates every cell in my body. My eyes fall to my girl in bed. Natasha is dishevelled and wet with perspiration but she has never looked more beautiful.

I carefully lay the precious little bundle onto her mother’s chest.

I grab Natasha and hold her tight. “I love you,” I whisper into her hair. “I love you, I love you,” I repeat as I squeeze her.

“I love you too, baby,” she whispers through tears. She gently kisses her daughter’s forehead and rearranges her gently so that we can look at her. She’s tiny, with blue eyes and a scattering of fair hair.

Is this real?

Is this our baby?

As if in the twilight zone, this perfect little pink person stares up at me.

“Joshua,” Natasha whispers through tears.

I shake my head in disbelief, unable to speak.

The doctor checks Natasha. “I need to do a little repair work here, Natasha.”

I stand concerned. “What’s wrong?” I frown.

“She needs some stitches.”

My face falls. “Oh.”

“That’s ok,” she whispers as she grabs my hand to reassure me.

“Take your daughter, Joshua,” the doctor instructs.

My face falls and I fumble. I don’t know how to hold this tiny thing without hurting her, but I lift her into my arms and sit in the chair next to the bed and stare at the little girl in my arms.

She’s tiny, so tiny and so perfect. My eyes float up to Natasha. “Are you ok, Presh?” I ask. God, I hate that she has had to go through so much today.

The doctor gives her an injection and she smiles sleepily as she nods. “I’m ok, Josh.”

My eyes fall back to the little person in my arms and I frown, unwrapping a little of her blanket to look at her, and as if by some miracle, she reaches out and wraps her tiny hand around my pointer finger. I feel my heart somersault in my chest as every emotion overwhelms me. My eyes fill with tears and I lift her precious little hand to my mouth and kiss the back of it.

This is love in its highest form.

Tears start to run down my face

“Happy Birthday,” I whisper.

I feel my heart swell with so much love, I could burst.

We did it. We did it. We made a baby.

My eyes rise back to the beautiful, brave woman who did this – the woman who brought me this happiness today. We have come so far and fought so hard and… words escape me. Never in a million years would I have thought, all those years ago when I was filling her void with other women, that this precise moment was in my future… that this higher level of being could ever be achieved.

I watch Natasha intently as our relationship hits another stratosphere.

I fucking love this woman with every ounce of my being.

“What’s her name?” The doctor asks.

My eyes drop to the precious bundle in my arms. “Jordana May Stanton,” I whisper.

“What a beautiful name.” The doctor smiles.

“It is,” I reply, totally distracted by the tiny little person in my hands.

The doctor finishes twenty minutes later, and I hand our baby back to Natasha. The nurse arranges her to try and feed. I stand still and hold my breath as I watch. She latches on and starts to suck and I feel the floor fall from underneath me. This is one of the most basic human needs, and yet it may just be the most intimate and beautiful thing I have ever seen. I watch the woman I love turn into a mother. My eyes well up again and I wipe my tears with the back of my hands.