For The Love of Easton (For the Love Of #2) - A.M. Hargrove Page 0,3
and Finn were born.” Dad flung out his arm, indicating the wild bunch of kids.
I hadn’t thought about it much, but kids never do.
“They managed to sleep just fine. It’s why we bought another sound machine. Remember?” Mom asked.
Guilt coated me like an unwanted cocoon. My parents had spent so much money on my baby already, and she hadn’t even arrived yet. It would take me a lifetime to be able to repay them.
“Now what?” Dad asked, tipping my chin up.
“It’s just that you two are doing everything for me. I wish I could help.”
“Don’t worry. You will be. I remember when you arrived on the doorstep in that awful box and Geepa laughed because you needed a diaper change. He left me standing there, not knowing what to do. It didn’t take long for me to get the hang of it. That is after I got pooped on a few times.”
“Ew, Daddy, that’s gross.”
“You think so now, but just wait.” He walked away, chuckling. I had no idea why he thought that was so funny.
Mom came over and hugged me. “Listen, now isn’t the time for you to worry about what we bought. You just take care of yourself and the baby. By the way, are you ever going to share the name?”
I was still up in the air over it and I told her so. “It’s so hard.”
“I know. Remember when you wanted me to name Anna Monroe Baby Yoda?”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. I was so in love with that.”
“I’m curious over what nickname you’ll give her. You always were one to do that.”
“Yeah, about that, no nicknames for this child.” I patted my protruding belly. “Do you think I’ll be fat afterward?”
“Yep, as fat as a pencil. You can’t even tell you’re pregnant until you turn to the side. You’ll be fine.”
“I hope I’m like you.” Mom looked great. After each baby she’d dropped right back down to where she’d been before. The funny thing was, we sort of looked alike, even though she wasn’t my birth mom. We had long blonde curly hair, and while my eyes were blue-green like Dad’s, hers were blue. I was taller like Dad, but our facial features resembled each other’s. When people told me I looked exactly like her, I never bothered to tell them she wasn’t my bio mom.
The check-in at the hospital went smoothly and I settled into my room. The doctor came in and examined me. “Looks like we’re going to have a baby.”
There was no ‘we’ in this, unless she was going to conk me out and pull the thing out of me. I grimaced through another contraction. “When can I have the epidural?”
“Soon.” She patted my leg and left.
“What the hell does that mean?”
Mom held my hand. “She probably had to call the anesthesiologist.”
“Oh.”
Dad grabbed my other hand and said, “If it gets too painful, just squeeze.”
A nurse came in and started an IV. My contractions were coming fast. She attached a fetal monitor to me and all I wanted was that stupid epidural.
“Mom, is it always this bad?”
“Sorry, but yeah.”
“Ugh, and you had more than one? Why do women ever go through this more than once?”
“You’ll figure it out later.” Mom had a serious expression, but not Dad. He went all-out with the laugh.
“Dad, you don’t get to laugh. You’re not the one who has to push out a gigantic live watermelon out of your vagina. Come to think of it, how is that even possible?”
“The human body is amazing,” Dad said.
I gave him the stink-eye. “Easy for you to say.”
The day wore on… and on… and on. Finally, some dude came in and put me out of my misery.
“What the fuck took you so long?”
“English!” Mom admonished me.
“I get that all the time,” the anesthesiologist said. “Don’t blame me, I only come in when your obstetrician calls.”
A few minutes later, I was in much better shape. “Thank you and sorry for the trash mouth.”
“Not a problem,” he said as he walked out.
The doc came back in and said, “Now that your epidural is in, things may slow down a bit.”
“I don’t care. I’ll stay here for a week as long as that pain is gone.”
“We can’t have that. It’s not good for the baby, so if things don’t progress in a couple of hours, we’ll give you something to speed things up.”
Eighteen hours later, I pushed my baby girl out. I don’t know that I could’ve done it without my mom. She was