44. Deliverance

                                    

                                          
Gio
MAY 2011
"Jesus Ren. You're gonna break my fingers!"
"Giovanni..." Ren grits between pants, her forehead glistening with sweat. "I feel like my whole body is breaking and exploding right now! YOU... need to fucking zip it!"
"Got it." I clench my jaw and take the pain. 
She's right; it's nothing compared to what she's going through. You watch delivery scenes on TV and think you know what it's going to be like, but this is way fucking next level. 
We've been up for more than twenty-four hours now, and poor Bella is beyond exhausted.  The baby is nearly two weeks overdue, so when she started getting real contractions last night, we were so excited. Maybe a little too excited. I rushed her right over to the hospital. I didn't want to be one of those fathers who had to help their wife have a baby in the car. But when we came in at nine pm, the hospital was impacted, so we wound up in a triage room for three hours. Luckily, she was transferred to a proper room and hospital bed at midnight. But after 6 hours of labor, she wasn't progressing past a four, so they gave her an induction. It's been a little over an hour, and our nurse has yet to come by again.
"Oh, Gio," Ren says shakily, releasing her grip now that the contraction is over. "I don't know if I can take much more."
Pain, exhaustion, and fear are evident in her eyes, and it cuts me up so much I want to DO something to make it better, but all I can really do is be calm for her, let her break my fingers, and give her reassurance. 
"You can do it, Bella," I say, giving her a sip from her water bottle. "You are so strong. I know you can."
"I don't know. Babe, it hurts so bad, and I'm so tired. I think I want pain meds."
"But a natural birth is what you wanted. Do you want me to start the CD over? Maybe try another position?"
"I  know it's just—AHHHHH!" she cries out. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Mother fucker!"
Whoa. I don't think I've heard Ren swear this much... ever. Jesus! My hand! I take a deep breath and keep my pain internal this time as she captures it in her vise grip once more.
"Huuuugh!" she exhales. 
"I love you, Bella. You're doing so—"
"I can't!" she cries. "I can't do it again. I want an epidural!"
I read that almost all women reach a point of wanting drugs, but that is the point when you are almost there. Usually, it's when a mom is in the most intense part of the labor process, with short contractions, and often right before her body begins to push. Neurologically, this is when the rational thinking part of the brain has shut down to allow the hormones of labor to do their work. 
"Are you sure?" I ask, wiping her head with a cool washcloth. "You are—
"Shut up, Gio!" she barks. "I'm sure. I'm done."
"Alright... what's the safe word then?" 
We chose a safe word to use if she really, really wanted an epidural and she doesn't want to be talked out of it—that she has 100% changed her mind, and there's no conversation to be had. But she thought she wouldn't need it because she was so set on not having one.
"Mango! Mango, mango, mango, mango!" she repeats. "Just get me the fucking epidural now! AHHHHHH! Goddamn-Muhthafuckin'ass-Son-of-a-Bitch!" Ren screams.
Okay. I guess that's it. I use my free hand to call the nurse, who comes and sweeps Ren's cervix. 
"Oh my goodness, that went fast. It's too late for an epidural; you're nearly at a ten."