“What?” I asked as the pain amped up once again. “Oh, motherfucker.”
“You might want to push.”
“No shit, Mal!”
“Because I think you’re sort of having a baby,” he finished.
“What? That’s ridicu… Argh.” I gritted my teeth and ignored his bullshit crazy words and pushed. It was the only thing my body wanted to do. Agony tore through me. If I could just get it out. Whatever it was. Everything would be fine.
He tore another towel off the wall and held it down near my groin. “Keep going. That’s it. You’re doing great. I can definitely see a head.”
Maybe Mal was drunk and delusional. I didn’t know. Maybe he was on drugs. But I definitely wasn’t pregnant because that wasn’t the kind of thing you tended not to notice. Having a baby was sort of a damn big deal. At any rate, I had other things to worry about. Like not dying anytime soon.
Again and again, I pushed for all I was worth. Sweat coated my body, and every inch of me was on fire. It felt like my insides were trying to burst out of me. Gross, but true. Nothing mattered apart from making it happen. Getting whatever it was out.
“Come on, little baby,” he said, staring determinedly at my crotch. “That’s it. You’re doing really well.”
The pain dimmed again, giving me room to think. And my thoughts were not happy. “No. Wait. A baby? You’re being serious? Like really?”
He grinned. “Yep. Isn’t that wild?”
“But…I can’t be.”
“Yeah, but you sort of are.”
“A baby isn’t part of the plan. Not for another four or so years.” Tears leaked down my face. “No. You’re just being silly or something. I think I’d know if I was pregnant, Mal.”
He winced. “Ev…”
“I mean, come on! How is that even possible?”
“Not sure we have time for me to explain the birds and the bees to you.”
“I’m on birth control,” I continued in a calm if somewhat shrieking tone of voice. “My periods are light and irregular, but they’re there.”
Mal just shrugged. “I honestly don’t know what to tell you. Want me to take a picture and show you so you can see for yourself?”
“Don’t you dare take a picture of my vagina!”
“Right. Sorry. Bad idea,” he said. “Please don’t scream at me. The acoustics in this room are intense.”
“Oh my God. I’m having a baby, and David isn’t even here.” My head spun in the weirdest way, but I couldn’t faint. It was time to push again. “Ohhh!”
“That’s it,” said Mal, all excited. “Almost there.”
I pushed again, and something roughly the size of Texas slipped out of my nether regions and into Mal’s waiting hands. A cranky little cry filled the room, echoing off the tiled walls and floor. The most unexpected and amazing sound I’d ever heard. My head felt light, though, my body felt heavy. How the hell could this be happening?
“It’s a boy,” said Mal, voice ecstatic.
“A boy? Is he okay?”
“I think so.”
He wrapped the baby, my baby, in a clean towel and carefully handed him to me. The smallest, most surprising of things lay on my chest. A tiny perfect nose and rosebud lips. A tuft of dark hair coated in muck clung to his little head. I kept blinking back tears, trying to clear my fuzzy, freaked-out head, but the view never changed. A baby.
“I’ve got to find scissors and string and stuff,” said Mal. “That’s what they do on TV.”
“The paramedics should be here soon.”
“Might be better to wait for the professionals.” He sighed. “Holy shit. Talk about adrenaline. My heart is racing. Can’t believe I delivered a baby on your bathroom floor.”
“You’re telling me.” I traced a gentle finger over the small one’s cheek. Stunned was a great word. It summed up a whole hell of a lot with regards to this situation. “Where the heck did you come from? I don’t understand any of this.”
“Well, Child Bride, I can say with some authority that he did in fact come out of your lady parts.” His smile turned gentle. “You really didn’t know you were pregnant?”
Another tear fell down my face. “I didn’t have a clue. How did I not know, Mal? What am I going to tell David?”
Loud banging came from the front door.
Mal frowned. “I better get that. Stop freaking out. And give him boob. Babies love boob.”
I nodded, transfixed once more by the child’s tiny perfect features. My child. Mine and David’s. I didn’t know if I should cry some more, laugh in a hysterical fashion, or pass out cold. A mixture of all three might be nice. Instead, I just said, “Oh my God.”
* * * *
David rushed into the private hospital suite just before six the next morning. His long dark hair was tied back in a ponytail, his long-sleeve tee and black jeans rumpled as if he’d been in them for a day or two. And I, of course, burst into tears at the sight of his face. Because this was what I’d been holding out for. To finally have him here with me so I didn’t have to face this alone. But also, my hormones were running wild.