Chapter 66

Millie

Way too close to the due date

“Oh, look at you!” We’d turned up at Mum and Dad’s for family dinner, but this time there were way more attendees. Moira, Noah’s mum came rushing over, her arms outstretched. “You look radiant. Jorge, doesn’t she look radiant?” she said, nudging her husband in the ribs. He looked over from where he was chatting to my dad and brothers.

“Radiant,” he observed dryly, then winked at me. “How’re you doing, love?”

“Ready to burst,” I groaned, waddling forward. I was nine months pregnant and completely over the whole process.

“Damn, bestie.” Jamie appeared with a tall glass of ice water. Reflux ruled out all juices and fizzy drinks. “If I prick you with a pin, will you go pfffft…” She mimicked a rapidly deflating balloon. “All across the room?”

“Let’s find out.”

I lowered myself down into the closest chair, letting out a long sigh as the ache in my feet eased. Of course, the one in my hips just got worse. I made frustrated little sounds as I struggled to get comfortable, but Mum’s cushy couch was like a pool of quicksand, resisting all my attempts.

“Here you go.” Charlie was there, expertly tucking pillows around me. He’d gotten it down to a fine art, knowing exactly how to position them to stop the hurting.

“Thanks, babe,” I said, looking up at him, which drew Astrid over.

“Sex,” she announced, completely unfazed when we all looked at her in confusion. “I told you what to do, Brother. Semen has some sort of chemical in it that induces birth.”

“Prostaglandins.” Mum appeared with a tray of drinks. “Mimosas anyone?” My hand shot up, ready to down three of them in rapid succession. “Not you.” She waved me away, the traitor, handing the delicious bubbly goodness to everyone else. “It helps ripen the cervix.”

“Mimosas?” I asked, then clicked my fingers rapidly. “Then gimme. I’ll douche a bottle of them if that’s what it takes to get this party started.”

“Semen,” Mum corrected.

“Please stop saying semen.” Charlie covered his face with his hand.

“With three fellas, you’d have all the jizz you need,” Astrid said.

“Oh, I am drinking every time someone mentions nut juice,” Jamie said, shaking her head and then taking a big mouthful of her mimosa. “I’ll be drunk before dinner starts.”

“Knox!”

Astrid called my partner over, and I couldn’t help but smile at his harried expression. Everywhere we went lately was planned with military precision. There was the hospital bag, packed and stashed permanently in the back of his car, then there was the pregnancy bag full of the drinks and snacks I liked. On top of that, in the nursery was the baby bag, just waiting for the little girl who’d need it to arrive. Knox hustled over, unzipping the pregnancy bag as he went.

“What’s up, babe? What do you need? Snacks? A drink? Some antacids? Do your feet hurt? Noah!” My other lover’s head whipped around. He’d dared to go and talk to his parents, a sin worse than death apparently. “Millie’s feet need massaging.”

“Your wish is my command,” Noah said, sliding to the floor to attack my feet.

“Nope.” I tried to pull them up and under me but that wasn’t happening. I was like Violet Beauregarde when they turned her into a blueberry. The guys would have to roll me out of here at the end of the night. “They are swollen and disgusting, and if you get them out of those sandals, you’re not getting them back in again. That wasn’t why I called you over. Mum and Astrid say we need to have lots of sex to bring the baby on.”

Or I’d be getting induced. The midwifery team had a very frank conversation with me about that possibility. I’d made the mistake of Googling that and did not like the results at all. More painful, faster birth, greater potential for a C-section. Nope, nope, nopey, nope, nope.

“Orgy.” Charlie rubbed his hands together. “We’re having an orgy tonight.”

“Please don’t say the word orgy,” Hayden said, wincing as he stared at us.

“So I shouldn’t say we’re also having an orgy when we get home?” Jamie asked.

“Now, baby…”

“Children, we have company,” Dad said.

“Company that suggested this whole thing in the first place,” I countered. “So Astrid, just how much sex do I need to be having…?”

An hour or so later, the conversation had been steered away from our sex life and back to the dinner table.

“This is amazing,” Moira said as she sliced into the meat. “So tender. You’ll have to give me the name of your butcher.”

I watched them all chatter. Astrid was sitting next to Jamie and whatever she had to say, it seemed to have my bestie grinning, my brothers rolling their eyes. Everyone was here, together, getting along.

And that was the moment our little girl decided to join us.

People tried to explain to me what my water breaking would feel like, but for me, it was as if something swelled and then popped. I felt a hot gush of fluid and looked down in despair. My bladder control was bloody awful, something that would only get worse if I didn't practice my Kegels, Mum informed me, but for it to just let go like this? I whipped a cloth napkin off the table then patted at my lap. I was saturated. Pee had gone everywhere, soaking into my dress, the chair, and dripping onto the floor…

It wasn’t pee.

My cutlery fell from my hands with a clatter, getting the attention of the room.

“Everything OK, love?” Dad asked in concern.

“Millie…?” Knox was up and out of his chair, walking towards me. “Millie?”

“What’s going on?” Noah asked, reaching for my hand, then seeing the mess. “Is that?—?”

“Go time.” Charlie shoved himself back from the table, tossing his napkin onto the table. “It’s go time. Our little girl is on her way out.”

She was.

I was bundled into the car, a towel produced to cover the backseat, but I couldn’t give a shit about the upholstery. Pain like a period cramp on steroids tore through me as I struggled to get in the back seat. Noah picked me up and then slid me into the middle as our families came rushing out.

“We’ll meet you at the hospital,” Astrid said.

“We all will,” Mum added. “Angus! Turn the oven off and lock up now.”

“Jesus, is she alright?” Jorge asked Brock.

“Millie!” Jamie looked pale, too pale, her stricken expression a perfect echo of my own. She thrust herself forward. “I’m here. We’re here. However you want this to go, that’s how it’ll happen.”

I’d talked to her about my birth plan one afternoon when I was fretting about it, but I had no mental space to think about that. My world was reduced down to pain, only pain.

“Hey…” Noah’s face swam into view and he smoothed my hair back from my face. My hand wrapped around his wrist, clamping down tightly. “Remember to count.” What, was he freaking insane? I couldn’t have counted right now if you put a gun to my head. “Sixty seconds, that’s how long this will last. Sixty seconds. I, 2, 3, 4…”

I didn’t need to count, because he was doing it for me, and somehow that made it so much better. It didn’t lessen the pain, but it let me know the end was near. Well, for this contraction. I puffed along with him, getting closer and closer to sixty seconds and then… I let a long breath out, my body collapsing against the car seat.

“I’ve called the hospital. They know we’re coming. Everyone who’s getting in the car needs to do so right now,” Knox barked. Charlie and Noah climbed in, the doors slamming shut around us. “Hold on.” He was behind the steering wheel, turning on the ignition and then throwing the car into gear as he looked over his shoulder, meeting my eyes for a second. “I’ll get you to the hospital, babe, don’t you freaking worry, and with an escort.”

“The boys are coming out?” Charlie asked with a grin.

“Meeting us en route.”

What boys were meeting us where, I didn’t get a chance to ask, another contraction hitting me. I gripped Noah and Charlie’s hands tightly as we raced away from my parents’ house, but once we got on the main road, my mouth fell open. A phalanx of fire trucks converged around us, sirens wailing. I made a strange sound, part laughter, part moan of pain.

“How…?”

“We are gonna get in so much shit when the minister finds out,” Charlie explained. “But you can’t expect a bunch of firefighters to take any chances when their newest recruit is being born.”

“I worked it out with the fellas,” Knox said from the front seat. “Anyone on call and not needed on a job would drive out to help us get to the hospital fast.”

Loud horns blared from the truck closest to us, and I looked across to see Rhett and Gareth grinning from the front seats.

“Is that… Brent?”

Sure enough, my old boss was in the back.

“Jesus, someone must’ve brought him in on the deal,” Noah said. “Well, I guess if we’re all going down, we may as well go down together.”

Cars parted like we were Moses and they were the Red Sea, letting us all pass. I don’t know if anyone ever got to a hospital faster. Then it was all a blur, of stumbling out of the car and into the hospital, being put on a gurney and taken up to the maternity ward. A very nice midwife introduced herself to everyone, but Knox rather abruptly asked her to examine me. She lifted my sodden dress and then her eyebrows shot up.

“Well, looks like things are moving fast. I’ll page the doctor.”

They were. My dress was removed and replaced with a surgical gown. A heart rate monitor was strapped around my belly. All the while, I sat half-hunched, half-lying on the bed, gripping Knox’s and Charlie’s hands.

“You’ve got this, babe,” Noah said, rubbing big circles on my back, which both soothed and irritated me in turns. I was counting, counting through each wave of pain, lost in the numbers. Just get to the end of this one , I told myself furiously, face screwing up. This one and the next.

And the next and the next and the next.

I’d done some calm birthing classes and liked their philosophy, but there was a massive difference between intellectually listening to the instructor and living it. I could only count for so long, and it was beginning to feel hopeless. Time felt like it stretched on and on, broken up into tiny, sixty second increments. I just wanted, no, needed for this to end, and that’s what I sobbed out.

“I can’t…” I whimpered, finding a flush-faced Knox staring at me wide eyed. “I can’t Knox. It hurts too much.”

“I know, baby, but?—”

“No, you don’t!”

I didn’t mean to snarl that at him, but how could he think he knew anything about this? I was locked in a battle it felt, one where only one of us would survive. That’s when tears started to roll down my cheeks and the midwife stepped in.

“We might need to look at some pain relief.”

“Millie said she didn’t want that,” Charlie snapped. “She said over and over that she didn’t want narcotics in the baby’s bloodstream when she’s born.”

“We make a lot of decisions before the birth and not all of them are ones we can stick to.”

“Birth trauma.” Knox said the words grimly. “I read all about that. Women get it if they don’t have the birth they want. That’s not happening here.”

“I’m not telling you it's something you have to do,” the midwife said. “I’m just saying it's an option. Millie is hurting.”

“Millie?” Noah’s face appeared out of nowhere, those hazel eyes studying mine. “Mills, baby, we need to know what you want to do.”

“She told us what she wanted to do,” Charlie growled.

Noah wiped my face with a blessedly cool rag and I panted madly, trying to catch my breath. I was in that brief window between a contraction, but whatever clarity I had possessed was long gone. Everything was an angry red haze, and I could barely see them through it.

“Let me check her progress again,” the midwife said and then drew up my gown. Our daughter was about to make the decision for me. “OK, it’s go time. Let’s get her off the bed and onto a birthing stool, let gravity do the work.”

I was lifted up, moved gently, so gently, as I writhed, then was eased down into a squatting position, the stool supporting me.

This, I remembered this.

The parenting videos I watched all said this or standing, or some kind of upright position worked best. I’d tried it early in my labour, but it just hurt more. Now, it felt eminently right. The position opened up my pelvis, creating some much needed space.

“OK, you need to push,” the midwife said in an overly chipper manner. “Push! Push!”

I didn’t need a cheerleader or a teacher, or even a support person. I clung to the guys’ hands as I did what my body told me. We were doing this. I was one of many women who’d fought their way through childbirth, and I would come out the other side triumphant.

“Get ready to meet your baby girl!” the midwife said, right as I felt her slither free.

For a moment, all I could do was stare. This red, wrinkly little scrap, she was perfect. Her little hands were scrunched up tightly, her eyes tiny little slits at the moment, but her arms quivered as the midwife handed her to me, and then she was right where she needed to be.

Skin-to-skin contact, that's what I read about, so I wrenched the gown down over one breast. My baby, my baby girl, was tucked in close to my body, helping her calm. The little grunting noises she was making were so perfect. She was perfect, and that’s when I looked up.

“Oh my god…” Charlie swooped in, eyes glistening as he stared at our girl. “Look at her. Like just look at her.” His finger went out and touched her hand, the tiny fingers flexing and then clamping down tightly around one of his. “You got me, baby. You got me.”

“Bloody hell, Millie.” Noah slid in behind me, his arms taking over the role of holding up my body because I was tired, so tired. “She’s freaking perfect, just like you.”

“Can I…?” Knox fell to his knees before us and stared into my eyes. “Can I…?”

He couldn’t seem to make the words out, but I knew what he needed. It was the same thing I did, but I could share. She was ours, the bond between us never as intense as it was now. It was love, for her, for them, for all the mothers and fathers around the world who were also lost in their child’s eyes. I smiled, my lips wobbly, before nodding and holding her out for Knox to take.

“Watch her neck!”

Noah’s voice was uncharacteristically harsh.

“Hold her close,” Charlie added much more softly. “Against your skin.”

Knox’s shirt was unbuttoned and a space was made to slot her in.

“Well, look at you, perfect girl. You gave your mother a bit of a hard time coming out,” Knox said. I laughed then, even as tears streamed down my face. “But you got here in the end, and we couldn’t be happier to see you.”

“Well done, Mum,” the midwife said with a smile. “Now, who wants to cut the cord?”