at any moment.
“Michael, I am not going to be seen with you dripping toothpaste down your chin. Go wash. I’ll wait.”
Marjorie arrived, her hair in plastic rollers held in place with bobby pins, and a thick bathrobe on. She hugged Lily for good luck. Before we left, we went upstairs to kiss Tara goodbye. She was eight and cute then, not the petulant teen she is now. “Bring me home a sister,” she murmured sleepily. I warmed up Lily’s “mom van,” which I had mercilessly teased her about when she got it. She’d sold out, gone suburban on me. She moved out of the city when she married Spawn, only then we didn’t call him that.
I drove slowly, trying to see through the swirls of snow dancing in my headlights. Next to me, Lily kept breathing. I was a pinch hitter. I hadn’t gone through Lamaze. I just knew, when David got stranded in the city, that I might be “it,” and she had given me a crash course in the fact that she would soon be screaming, hitting me and otherwise behaving in decidedly insane fashion while she, in turn, tried to push this baby out of her.
“Breathe,” I said, my eyes squinting in the poor visibility.
“I am,” she shouted back and slugged me in the arm.
“I mean me. I’m talking to myself. You’re making me nervous.”
“Fuck you, Michael. Just get me to the hospital. I want my epidural! ”
We pulled into the parking lot of St. Mary’s hospital, and I got her a wheelchair and pushed her up to maternity. Everyone assumed I was the father, and she and I laughed each time the mistake was made. At the same time, she didn’t call David to tell him she’d gone into labor. I think she knew…maybe she was afraid at that perfect moment, delivering this new baby, that another woman would answer the phone in his hotel room and ruin it for her.
I held her hand. I breathed with her. I watched the baby’s heartbeat on the monitor. I gave her ice chips, even as she screamed at me.
“I don’t want fucking ice chips! I want a ginger ale. A Coke. A frigging martini. Something. Please. Just a sip.”
I gave the nurse a pleading look, but she shook her head and spoke as one soothes a child.
“Now Lily, you’ve had one child already. You know you can’t have anything to drink. Just ice chips.”
As soon as the nurse left to check on another patient, Lily’s lips quivered, and she whimpered, “Michael, just one sip. Go find a soda. I just want one sip.”
“I can’t, Lily, honey. You heard her.”
“What the fuck does she know?” she screamed and punched me in the arm again. I decided giving birth was like having multiple personalities.
Hours later, in a mirror the nurses set up for us, I watched Noah’s head crown. I was amazed at how a woman’s body could do that. Stretch to let this new life emerge, covered in blood and white stuff Lily assured me was normal. He was whole and perfect.
When he cried, I cried. Lily cried. I cut the cord, terrified and amazed at separating this new life from his mother with a snip. The doctor placed him on his mother’s breast, and Noah immediately searched for her nipple, found it, and started making sucking noises. I put my finger next to his little fist, and he grabbed it. I counted five little perfect fingers. Then he stopped sucking, turned his face and stared at me as I said, “Hello, Noah.” I convinced myself he knew my voice from all the talks Lily and I had during her pregnancy about how David was growing distant. She was certain he was having an affair. And I had been there for her, listening and talking. My voice.
Lily sniffled and laughed and cried at the same time. “He knows you, Michael.”
They took Noah from us and put him on a scale to weigh him and do tests and clean him up. And I was aware that everything had changed. I had witnessed this life, and I felt responsible for the little guy. I was there when he took his first breath. I was part of something…someone who was now going to grow up and become a
“Michael, I am not going to be seen with you dripping toothpaste down your chin. Go wash. I’ll wait.”
Marjorie arrived, her hair in plastic rollers held in place with bobby pins, and a thick bathrobe on. She hugged Lily for good luck. Before we left, we went upstairs to kiss Tara goodbye. She was eight and cute then, not the petulant teen she is now. “Bring me home a sister,” she murmured sleepily. I warmed up Lily’s “mom van,” which I had mercilessly teased her about when she got it. She’d sold out, gone suburban on me. She moved out of the city when she married Spawn, only then we didn’t call him that.
I drove slowly, trying to see through the swirls of snow dancing in my headlights. Next to me, Lily kept breathing. I was a pinch hitter. I hadn’t gone through Lamaze. I just knew, when David got stranded in the city, that I might be “it,” and she had given me a crash course in the fact that she would soon be screaming, hitting me and otherwise behaving in decidedly insane fashion while she, in turn, tried to push this baby out of her.
“Breathe,” I said, my eyes squinting in the poor visibility.
“I am,” she shouted back and slugged me in the arm.
“I mean me. I’m talking to myself. You’re making me nervous.”
“Fuck you, Michael. Just get me to the hospital. I want my epidural! ”
We pulled into the parking lot of St. Mary’s hospital, and I got her a wheelchair and pushed her up to maternity. Everyone assumed I was the father, and she and I laughed each time the mistake was made. At the same time, she didn’t call David to tell him she’d gone into labor. I think she knew…maybe she was afraid at that perfect moment, delivering this new baby, that another woman would answer the phone in his hotel room and ruin it for her.
I held her hand. I breathed with her. I watched the baby’s heartbeat on the monitor. I gave her ice chips, even as she screamed at me.
“I don’t want fucking ice chips! I want a ginger ale. A Coke. A frigging martini. Something. Please. Just a sip.”
I gave the nurse a pleading look, but she shook her head and spoke as one soothes a child.
“Now Lily, you’ve had one child already. You know you can’t have anything to drink. Just ice chips.”
As soon as the nurse left to check on another patient, Lily’s lips quivered, and she whimpered, “Michael, just one sip. Go find a soda. I just want one sip.”
“I can’t, Lily, honey. You heard her.”
“What the fuck does she know?” she screamed and punched me in the arm again. I decided giving birth was like having multiple personalities.
Hours later, in a mirror the nurses set up for us, I watched Noah’s head crown. I was amazed at how a woman’s body could do that. Stretch to let this new life emerge, covered in blood and white stuff Lily assured me was normal. He was whole and perfect.
When he cried, I cried. Lily cried. I cut the cord, terrified and amazed at separating this new life from his mother with a snip. The doctor placed him on his mother’s breast, and Noah immediately searched for her nipple, found it, and started making sucking noises. I put my finger next to his little fist, and he grabbed it. I counted five little perfect fingers. Then he stopped sucking, turned his face and stared at me as I said, “Hello, Noah.” I convinced myself he knew my voice from all the talks Lily and I had during her pregnancy about how David was growing distant. She was certain he was having an affair. And I had been there for her, listening and talking. My voice.
Lily sniffled and laughed and cried at the same time. “He knows you, Michael.”
They took Noah from us and put him on a scale to weigh him and do tests and clean him up. And I was aware that everything had changed. I had witnessed this life, and I felt responsible for the little guy. I was there when he took his first breath. I was part of something…someone who was now going to grow up and become a
Similar Books
