Chapter_43_Push

Flora is propped up in bed wearing a sky blue hospital gown with patterned white daisies. Her face is flushed with a happy glow, and, if I’m being honest, I can sense a small part of her is ready to move on with her life.

Next to her are various machines and monitors, one to check the baby’s heartbeat and another to check Flora’s contractions. The room is larger than I thought, but not a sterile operating room like Grey’s Anatomy or something I’d expected. I immediately take note of every detail in case one day I need to direct something that takes place in a delivery room. There’s even a couch along one wall in case one of us needs to faint.

After excited hellos and tired hugs, Flora and Gabrielle want to know all about our trip.

“Well, we were going to spend a week in P-town, but then Wyatt’s brother got into a mountain bike accident. So we got all the way to P-town, that’s when Wyatt’s mom called—”

I have to interrupt. “Can we maybe give them the abbreviated highlights? They don’t have time for the five-hour story.” Everyone laughs and Biz concedes. “We want to know how you are.”

Flora exhales. “Besides horrible back pain, mild heartburn, these heinous veins popping up all over my arms and neck and having to pee like all the time, I’m great. Oh, but if one more person calls me a trooper, I’m gonna slice their thumbs off,” Flora says, exhaling. “Thank god your little one is doing fine. Totally active. The last ultrasound they said it looks like the baby’s giving us the peace sign. So that’s cool.”

We smile at her with sympathy and gratitude, unable to express how much all of this means to us. Any of the issues we’ve had with each other seem inconsequential compared to what this woman sent from heaven is about to go through. For us.

Flora puts her hand on her large belly. She waves us over. The three of us each stack our hands on Flora’s stomach. It’s like a shot of serotonin. We feel a sizzling sensation electrifying our hands and arms, straight to our hearts.

We’re finally able to feel Flora’s extended belly in person. We sit there in awed silence until Flora points out specifically where we can feel the baby’s head, feet, legs and arms. We look up and lock eyes, quietly laughing, tearing up. Then we look at Flora and the three of us have nothing but love for each other.

“Oh, shit,” I say, remembering something. “We forgot to tell the photographer the baby’s coming early. Shit, shit, shit.” I had arranged for a professional photographer to meet us at the hospital to document every moment. Normally, I would’ve obsessed over this misstep but now? I wave it off and press on. “I’m not worried. One of us will just snap some pics along the way.”

Flora turns her head for us to see that Gabrielle has been filming us with her phone the whole time. “Already on it, champ,” Gabrielle assures us.

“That’s my girl,” Flora says.

“Just let me know if you want to direct me.” Gabrielle looks at me. “I know how you are, Scorsese.”

“It’s all you,” I reassure her. “You’re the director now.”

Flora makes a face like she’s impressed that I’m not trying to take control of the situation per usual. “What did you do to him on your road trip?” Flora jokingly asks Biz.

“Fatherhood is not something perfect men do, but something that perfects the man,” Biz says. Everyone is impressed with Biz’s wisdom until: “I just read that on a brochure by the coffee station.”

A cute, scruffy male nurse named Kirk enters the room to check on Flora and her various machines. He says with a gentle Southern accent, since she’s dilated at ten centimeters, “It’s time for y’all to push.”

“Push what?” I ask.

Kirk laughs and points at Flora’s belly.

“It’s the... final leg... of your journey!” Flora says in between breaths, fully in on our private joke. Leave it to Flora to lighten the mood even in the middle of the most intense and life-changing activity another human being can go through. “Okay, boys. Let’s get this beyotch outta me!” Flora looks up to see everyone is slightly stunned. “Sorry. That was aggressive.”

Kirk and another labor nurse prepare Flora.

“Oh my god. Seriously? This is really happening?” Biz keeps saying even though everyone, including Flora, is ready. “Like now now?”

I rope my arm around Biz to calm him.

Nothing could have prepared us for this moment. Not the years of planning or the doctor meetings or the sperm analysis or the genetic testing or the number crunching or the trips to buybuy Baby or scouring the Internet for baby names or hate-scrolling through @quaddaddiez or babymoon road-tripping that went a little sideways. Not even the advice from our own sisters and brothers and moms and dads.

And yet, we are fully prepared. We’re ready for the diaper changing and the middle-of-the-night crying and the teething and high fevers and the not knowing what the baby needs and their first word and choosing which one will be Daddy (me) and which one will be Papa (Biz) and all the snuggles and the giggles and the kisses and affection. Because we’re ready to love this baby and we’re truly in love with each other.

Almost immediately, Flora starts pushing. Heavy breaths, big squeezes, some slight groaning. Biz and I stand on one side of the bed cheering Flora on while Gabrielle stands on the other side, squeezing Flora’s hand, filming the big moment.

Feeling helpless, Biz grabs my hand. We turn to each other with tears of worry and joy and excitement in our eyes.

For the next hour and a half, the nurses move Flora in several different positions in order to get the baby moving down the birth canal: on her knees, on her left side, right side, on her back, until finally she’s sitting fully straight up. Flora’s breathing is more labored now and her eyes are shut tight. The room smells like literal blood, sweat and tears.

Without giving it so much as a minute’s thought, I seize the emotions in the room and decide Biz-style that I’m going to do something spur of the moment again.

That’s when my hand slips out of Biz’s hand and I fall to the floor.

Biz panics. He doesn’t know what’s going on, like Sandra Bullock accidentally letting go of George Clooney’s hand in Gravity, hanging from the side of a space satellite as I drift off into the black nothingness forever.

Flora, Gabrielle and the nurses check to see if I’ve fainted. Flora breathes through it, wondering what’s happening.

“Are you okay?” Biz asks, bending down to try and help me off the floor. I squat down on one knee, take something out of my shorts pocket and stare up at Biz with dreamy, teary eyes.

In my hand is the silver ring my dad gave me. I could let it become a painful memory of his absence all those years or the consolation prize for not having a father.

Instead, I’m putting it to better use.

“Massimo Biz Petterelli?”

Biz’s eyes go wide. “Oh my god.”

A second later, everyone else’s eyes go wide.

“You’re doing this NOW?” Flora shouts, alternating from exhausted to giddy and back again. The doctor, nurses, Gabrielle, even Flora, all stop to watch.

“Do you want to have a ceremony and a big celebration with all of our friends and family and our newborn baby but not have it be Star Wars–themed?”

Biz covers his open mouth in shock.

“Ask the fucking question!” Flora shouts.

“Will you marry me?” I fling out.

“Great! Now answer!” Flora says, laughing, in pain, happy, distressed and sweating out a hundred more emotions.

“Yes! Please! Yes! Holy crap! Yes!” Biz shouts.

I slip the ring on Biz’s finger, and it’s too big but we don’t care. He extends a hand and lifts me off the floor in a big bear hug. We kiss each other’s faces all over as everyone showers us with cheers and applause.

“Can we focus on me now, please?” Flora asks. The tears of joy and laughter are flowing. The nurses instruct Flora to pull her knees up to her chest and she gives one final big push.