Chapter Four: Baby

Labor hurts.

Oh I know, you've seen all the movies and shit. Diane Keaton and her 'daughter' all made up and cheeks puffed out going "Aaaah!"

No.

BullSHIT.

The Bullshittiest.

Now, I'm a good looking girl, okay? I am. When I wear makeup I'm like a 12, when I'm not wearing any I'm easily an 8. During labor I'm a 2. And that 2 is because I'm vain. My hair is stringy with sweat. My skin's oily, pale and red all at once, face blotchy and dark circles under my eyes. It's not the baby coming out that kills. I mean, that kills too, but the contractions, that's the worst. You ever had really bad diarrhea? Like Iritable Bowel Syndrome Diarrhea, after you've eaten like a pound of cheese and six chili dogs? Where it feels like your insides are just all trying to cramp at once? It's like that. But worse.

Home birth means I can have the baby on the bed or in the tub, and I haven't decided yet. I flail for Mort beside me in bed when the second contraction hits and I'm fully awake. Aren't they supposed to get worse? I might not survive this. Mort's gone and I scream until the next contraction hits and I can't get my breath. My eyes are squeezed shut but I still see the light come on as the door slams open and I hear him come in. His hands are on my thighs and pulling them gently apart and I hear a rumble of voices but can't make out the words through the sound.

It passes and my eyes open to see Vic in the doorway and Toad scowling.

"Breathe," Vic suggests with a smirk and I suck in a desperate breath.

"Get th'hell outta here," Toad snaps at him as he reaches to put pillows behind my back and I scream again and everything is just pain. It bursts behind my eyes and I can't breathe again, hands out and clutching and I hear Vic.

"Something's wrong."

I become aware of things in waves. Vic is scooping me up to move me. Mort is running out of the room. Vic is saying something to me, but I can't understand him. We're in the bathroom and Mort is there, the tub water running. Toad is frowning. The water helps me think a little bit and hear what's going on. Mort's in the tub too, naked as I am and staring at my bottom half. It's a big tub, huge jacuzzi. I feel so weak, I can't figure out how I'm not drowning right now until I realize Vic is in the tub too. That sends shivers down my already pained spine. But without him I'd be sinking. My head falls back against that broad chest and his arms tighten around me, a hand reaching to slap at my cheek.

"Stay awake, girl. Stay awake."

"Stay th'fuck awake Tabby."

Eyes open, and it hurts so bad. I open my mouth to tell them, but only whimpers and chokes come out. Vic is supporting all my weight and I feel him lifting me so Toad can get at my down below a little easier.

"I see feet, baby's turned around," Mort says and I start to cry. This is it, this baby's gonna kill me. Gonna kill us both.

I can heart Vic's heartbeat and it's steady and I try to focus on that. There's nothing I can do anymore. Toad tells me not to push and I don't know if I'm listening or not. My body doesn't belong to me anymore and I can hear Vic shouting at me to wake up, but I'm going.

Until Mort reaches inside me.

I scream.

It's so funny how pain can be so bad it sends you into unconscious and then a swell of new pain can wake you right back up again. I can't seem to stop screaming and it's not like in the movies. Not like the angry barks at the husband and the comical swearing. I'm being ripped apart. I'd be flailing if I had use of my legs.

It's hours. Hours there in the tub. Everything is pruny and the water is so bloody and disgusting but both men are still there, still trying to bring me through this. Toad has been trying to turn the baby. Vic is holding me up and managing to help hold my legs apart. Hours. I stopped screaming because I just don't have the energy. It's all I can do to manage a breath every so often. There might still be tears falling but I don't have the energy to squint my eyes.

"We're losin her. Heartbeat's slowin down."

"Shit. C'mon Tabby, not much longer now. Hang on baby."

My head falls back against Vic again, and it's turned, cheek pressed against soft hair and hard muscle. My eyes are closed but it seems like I can see anyway. Mort's holding me and whispering something sweet. It's a sunny day, bright and warm. There's a big tree.

Someone's baby's crying.

"Jesus Christ, Jesus fuck...it's so small...she's so small."

It's cold. Air pricking at sensitive skin until Vic gathers me closer and drapes a towel over me. Since when is Vic nice? It's warmer. I think bed.

"What're you doin'? Get off her."

"I'm warming her up, Runt, she's freezin'."

Then I'm asleep and it might be over.

There's crying again.

"Tabby? Love? C'mon I need you wake up. Y'gotta feed her."

I don't seethe baby at first when I open my eyes. All I can see is Mort looking relieved. But then there she is. Tiny, with soft dark fuzz over her head and squished red features. She looks like an alien. I smile.

He moves her carefully into my arms and up to my breast. He read more about it than I did, he's a better student, but luckily she takes to it right away. I wouldn't have had the strength to struggle with her. It's a weird feeling to be fed from, but it's kinda neat too. I've been good since I found out, no smoking, no drinking. But there was a long time in between pregnant and aware of it that I wasn't so careful. I'm glad to see she looks alright.

Mort's beside me, arm around my back to help me prop up, eyes glued to the infant suckling from me. I feel like a cow. I can't believe she's real.

"How you feelin', pet?"

"Like I got hit my a bulldozer and had a watermelon tugged out my cooch," I admit, "But..better."

He nods at me and reaches out to palm the infants head carefully as she nurses. "Scared me for a minute."

"Did I almost die?"

"Yeah, almost."

"Vic was here?"

He grunts in agreement, "I couldn't do it all myself," He sounds as though he thinks that's a failing on his part.

"She's so small."

"Yeah she is, an pretty, like 'er Mum," He looks up at me, meeting my eyes, "Thank you."

I don't think I've ever been looked at that intensely. It's insane how surreal this is. Our child is nursing from my breast. If I hadn't just woken up I'd totally pass out. I blink away the tears that gather and clear my throat.

"You wanna switch on the tv and get me some water?"

He goes without protest which just goes to show that men can change. Nine months ago he would've kicked my ass for asking him to wait on me. My Fair Lady is on and I settle back with a sigh of relief and shift the baby to the other breast when it seems like she's finished with the one she's on. He comes back with my water and settles down again and I can't get over how much like a father he's acting. A real father.

"What about Eliza?" I suggest softly, studying her.

"Liza f'short?" He smiles, looking pleased.

And I start to cry suddenly, because I've named my child. I'm someone's mother. Mort holds me, and I do belong.