Chapter Twenty-Nine

I FELT BETWEEN MY LEGS TO SEE IF THE DAMN PLACENTA HAD come out yet. Nothing was there, so I stuck a couple of fingers into my hole, and holy hell—it wasn’t the placenta. Holy shit. I was giving birth to a second baby, and my stomach was gripped with another contraction. Lincoln began to doze off, and I tried to keep my screams to a minimum as I pushed so I wouldn’t wake or scare him. Curling my chin in, I held him in one arm and gripped the inside of my thigh with my other hand. Bearing down with all I had, I was still totally in shock that I had to do such a thing—to give birth to Lincoln’s twin.

As the labor pain passed, I panted, unlatched Lincoln, and moved him to the bed of the truck beside me. When my stomach was gripped in agony again, I was able to use a bit more force, grabbing both of my thighs and curling in over myself. As the bout continued, it began to burn more. It was excruciating. The baby was crowning.

“Oh, no. Oh, no,” I said to myself. I was by myself. I tried not to push, but my body wouldn’t let me stop. It knew the baby needed to be born. I cried, wanting Bauer to be there, to be back with the water as black spots appeared before my eyes, and to be there as our second baby was born. I bore down, regripping my thighs, which I tried to open more to my sides, and leaned in over myself as much as I could. I worked the baby out as my hole opened to its maximum.

Pain burned through me as the baby’s head slowly appeared. Screaming, I kept pushing, and knowing it was almost time, I put my hands between my legs. I strained more, crying as my exit tore open, and I felt the top of the baby’s head with my fingers. Panting and gasping, I pushed again, and my body shook as more of the baby’s head filled my hands. My breathing was erratic, and I whimpered because it hurt like a son of a bitch, and I kept straining my muscles, that horrific burn carrying on. I bellowed and bore down more, holding onto the little person coming out of me.

It was like it was happening in slow motion. Every time I pushed the baby only eased out in small increments. Lincoln was fast asleep beside me as I shook and delivered the baby myself. I forced down on my muscles, screaming now so the whole county could probably hear as my exit stretched to let the baby pass. Then, time caught up with itself, and the baby’s head popped out into my hands.

I pushed a couple more times to deliver the baby’s body. When they were out, I gently put them down on the bed of the truck between my thighs and lay back, gasping for breath—my vision wobbly and my head so dizzy. The baby cried as my chest heaved, gulping, trying to breathe.