Never Giving Up (Never #3)(47)
“Everything will be ok,” I said, softly, trying to make her feel more at ease.
“All right, Ella, you see how the line is going up? That means it’s time to push. That’s it, pull your knees back and bear down.” Ella followed the instructions perfectly, as if she’d done this a million times. “Alright, Porter, now you count to ten. Not too fast, but not too slow.”
When I reached ten, Ella collapsed back down on to the bed and looked up at me. “Count faster next time,” she said with her eyes closed. Dr. Bronson slowly shook her head at me and mouthed ‘No.’
“You did great, Babe.”
“Next time, Ella, we’re going to push until the contraction is over, taking a small break between each one—just a few seconds.” Ella nodded and I just watched her. When the next contraction came, she did just as she was supposed to and so did I. She gave three good pushes and then the doctor told her to relax. She leaned back into the bed, but then suddenly gripped her stomach in pain.
“Oh, ouch!” She cried, drawing in a sharp breath through her teeth making a hissing sound. “That really hurts,” she said, rubbing a spot low on the right side of her belly. “Like, really hurts,” she said, looking at the doctor with a question in her eyes.
The doctor placed her hands on Ella’s knees and said calmly, “The epidural is likely wearing off. It’s normal to feel some discomfort.”
“But this is just one spot, right on the side, and I’m not having a contraction.”
“Your body is just adjusting. The baby’s heart rate is normal. Everything is going well.”
Ella just nodded while still rubbing the spot bothering her, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth.
This went on for hours.
Ella pushed through every contraction, and then when she wasn’t pushing, she complained about the pain in her side. The doctor was patient with Ella. It was obvious that she was trying, but even the nurses seemed to be getting restless after a while.
With every push she made a little progress, but then when the contraction was over the baby would sneak back up, away from us. I tried to help her. I held her legs, I kissed her forehead, and I wiped her brow. I must have counted to ten at least a hundred times by now. I’d count to ten a million times if it helped her. I’d do anything at this point to just help her.
“Is it supposed to take this long? What if something is wrong?” I asked the doctor between the contractions. I didn’t want to say it, but she’d started to bleed and it seemed like a lot of blood to me. I passed worried an hour ago and was now moving into terrified. It was easy to get caught up in the happiness of pregnancy, easy to take an simple delivery and healthy baby for granted. I hadn’t stopped to think about the fact that something might not go right, but I was thinking about it now.
“Porter, Ella, the baby’s heart rate is good, Ella is holding up through this. I just need you to dig deep and do your best to get this baby out.” The doctor sounded confident, but a little worried as well.
Another hour went by, Ella pushed and pushed, but the baby made little progress. She started to fade, reaching new depths of exhaustion, I imagined. It was hard to believe she held up this long. Thoughts kept racing through my head, things I was unable and unwilling to say out loud. Why was this taking so damn long? How long did she have to do this until they decided it was long enough? Wasn’t there anything they could do to help her? Between contractions her eyes fluttered closed, but she still quietly moaned in pain, clutching the same spot on the right side of her belly. Something wasn’t right. I panicked on the inside, but tried to remain calm on the outside, not wanting to cause Ella to panic as well.
“Ella, look at me,” Dr. Bronson said, a new edge to her voice. “I need you to focus, look at me.” Ella opened her eyes and groggily gazed at her. “This is it, Ella. You’ve got three more tries to get this baby out, but then I’m going to have to take the baby out. I know you can do this. I know you can.”
“I don’t want a C-section,” Ella said, barely able to keep her eyes open.
“And I don’t want to give you one. But you’ve got to rally, Ella. You need to get the baby out on the next contraction or I will have to take the baby.”
“I need something to hold on to,” she said raggedly, obviously at the edge of exhaustion.
I didn’t understand what she meant, but the nurses did. One of them reached into a cabinet and pulled out a sheet, tying a knot in one end and handing it to Ella. The nurse held on to the other end and stood behind the doctor. I bent down so that my mouth was against the shell of her ear.
“I’m so proud of you, Baby. You can do this. I know you can.” She smiled and leaned her head against me.
“Ok, Ella, here comes a contraction. It’s time. Push your baby out.”
I watched as Ella gripped the sheet, pulling herself up, using it as leverage to push. A nurse held up her left leg and I held her right. I watched and waited, hoping that this worked.
“Porter, count!” Dr. Bronson yelled, focusing on Ella. I quickly began to count, a little embarrassed I’d forgotten my one job. When I made it to ten, the doctor yelled again. “Don’t stop, Porter, count again. Ella, it’s working, keep pushing!”
Ella took another deep breath and bore down, pulling on the sheet, giving the nurse on the other end of it quite a jolt and she had to readjust her footing to keep from falling over. I smiled on the inside, knowing Ella dug deep. I made it to seven this time before the doctor yelled again.