First and Last (28 page)

April 24, 2010

T
hese months have flown by for me. I know Mia would say otherwise, but that’s because she’s super pregnant and miserable. But her misery will hopefully come to an end because we’re on our way to the hospital for her induction. Her due date has come and gone as of three days ago and she’s over it. I’m anxious to meet our baby girl, but I’ll also be relieved to get my sweet wife back again. Pregnancy turns her into a vicious,
hangry
monster where she’s always hungry
and
angry.

I follow behind Mia as she waddles through the front doors of the hospital. Words can’t express the varying emotions bouncing through my body right now. I’m super excited, but also nervous for Mia. I know childbirth is no walk in the park, and the thought of her being in so much pain concerns me. My only hope is that the doctors have the drugs on standby so she’s not in agony for long.

From the time we check in and she gets situated in a room, an hour has gone by. They have two monitors strapped around her large stomach. One measures the baby’s heartbeat, the other monitors her contractions, which have yet to start.

“So today is the big day!” Dr. Matthews says as she enters the room, putting on a pair of gloves when she gets to the side of the bed.

“Finally,” Mia jokes, sounding exhausted.

“First, we’re going to check you to see if you’re dilated, okay?”

Mia nods and follows the doctor’s instructions on where to put her feet and legs as she reaches in and feels for God knows what. All I know is it looks really uncomfortable as Mia winces slightly. I hold her hand and squeeze it, trying to provide any comfort I can.

“Looks like you’re only at about a two.” She has the nurse hold up the piece of paper hanging from the monitors. “Your contractions aren’t consistent or strong enough to get your labor going, so we’ll break your water and start you on Pitocin.”

Dr. Matthews inserts a long, skinny thing into Mia and my eyes widen.
What the hell is that for?
“The fluid is clear, which is good.” When Mia opens her eyes, she looks relieved that the doctor is done. I’m guessing it didn’t feel great if the grip she had on my hand was any indication. “Were you wanting an epidural?”

“Eventually, but I want to wait.”

“Okay, keep in mind when you request it, it’ll take twenty minutes from that point for us to get it going. We only have one anesthesiologist, okay?” Mia nods again while Dr. Matthews removes and discards her gloves. “We’ll get you all set up then I’ll be going back to the office. I’ll come back in a little while to check your progress.”

“Wait, you’re not staying in the hospital? What if the baby comes while you’re gone?” I ask, concern clear in my voice.

“Mr. Collins, this is her first baby. She’s going to be here a while.” When we have no other questions or comments, she gives us a warm, encouraging smile before leaving.

Pitocin must come from the devil himself. As soon as they start it up, Mia’s in excruciating pain. She writhes back and forth, gripping the bedrail until her knuckles are white. The nurse said this was normal and that the medicine brings the contractions on hard and fast. I feel helpless and the only thing I can really do is brush her hair out of her face.

“I think you need the drugs, babe,” I plead with her.
Please, take the drugs
. I can’t stand to see her in this much pain.

“Okay, get the nurse,” she says through gritted teeth with her eyes closed.

Thirty minutes later and it’s smooth sailing. Mia’s sitting up looking relaxed and a lot happier, which eases my stress. “You feeling okay?” I ask her.

“I’ll sit here all day as long as they keep the drugs coming.”

I chuckle lightly and kiss her on the forehead. “I texted our family and let them know you’re doing okay. Your dad and my mom are in the waiting room. All our friends said they’d stop by once you’re up in recovery.”

She nods. “I know I haven’t said it recently, but I’m really proud of you.” She looks up at me with a warm expression, her love for me clear in her eyes.

“For what?” My brow furrows in confusion.

“For keeping your promise. You gave up drinking and came back to me—to us.” She looks at her round belly.

It’s been six months since I decided to face my issues and deal with Gary’s death. I remember the first night I’d gone without any alcohol was pretty rough. I woke up from a nightmare, drenched in sweat. Only this time it wasn’t Gary that was crushed by falling debris, it was Mia. Of course, my panting woke her up, and I had no choice but to tell her what happened. She held me while I shook off the aftermath of such a vivid nightmare. Instead of turning to the bottle, I embraced her and let her help me through it. I’ve never felt weaker, but Mia used her strength to lift me up and find mine again.

I still think about that day often, but it’s a dull ache I welcome. Because with it comes the realization that I’m alive, and that’s fucking awesome. Being sober makes you feel everything. It’s the worst thing, but also the best. I came to terms with what happened and realized I was wasting my life on my current path, and if I did that, Gary’s sacrifice would be in vain.

“I’d do anything for you, you know that.” I kiss her on the lips and rest my forehead against hers.

A few hours later, Mia gets a weird look on her face. “What?” I ask.

“I think I have to poop,” she whispers. Her face screws up and I try hard not to laugh.

“Nice timing,” I tell her. “I’ll get the nurse.” She was in here checking Mia thirty or forty minutes ago. She said she was seven centimeters dilated and one hundred percent effaced, whatever that means. All I know is that the baby wasn’t coming right then.

I poke my head out and see her. “Is everything okay?” she asks as she approaches.

“Yeah, but she said she has to poop. What do I do? She can’t feel her legs to walk, but I don’t think she wants to go in the bed.”

Her eyebrows rise up. “She might be ready. Let me check her again.”

After gloving up, she checks Mia. “You’re ready to push. Hold on, I have to call your doctor.”

She rushes off, creating a little panic inside me by her urgency. “Are you okay?” I ask her again.

“Yeah, it’s just a lot of pressure down there.”

Moments later, the nurse walks back in. “Your doctor is on her way. She’ll be here in a few minutes. She said
do not
push, okay?”

I feel antsy as I hold Mia’s hand. The nurse is running around the room setting up various stations and all I can think is I can’t believe it’s finally here. Mia is about to have our baby.

“Oh, God,” she says quietly to me, pulling me from my thoughts with new worry. “All I want to do is push. There’s so much pressure.”

“You have to wait, okay? The doctor will be here any minute,” I try to reassure her.

True to the nurse’s word, Dr. Matthews arrives five minutes later. “Man, you went quick! Only six hours? I figured you’d be here a lot longer,” she tells us. She suits up, puts Mia’s feet in the stirrup things, brings down a huge spot light, and tells her to push with her contractions.

Her face turns bright red as her eyes squeeze shut. I’m holding one leg while the nurse holds the other. Every time she bears down, I feel her whole body shake with effort. Her teeth clench and she snarls as she growls and pushes with all her might. I can tell she’s getting tired, but after a long hour of pushing, the most wonderful sound I’ve ever heard hits my ears.

Our baby’s cry.

The doctor places her on Mia’s chest and the woman who has given me the greatest gift ever starts to cry. My eyes fill with tears as I take in the most beautiful moment of my whole damn life. I’m in absolute awe.

“She’s perfect,” I tell Mia as she holds her while the nurses wipe the baby off. I cut the umbilical cord and they take her over to a side table to check all her vitals and finish cleaning her up.

I rub Mia’s hair and push it off her sweaty forehead. “You did it, babe. I’m so damn proud of you. You are the strongest, most incredible woman I’ve ever seen.” I lean down and kiss her lips. “I can’t believe you’re not only my wife, but now the mother of my child. Thank you for giving me a perfect little girl.” My voice is clogged with emotion and I’m filled to the brim with pure joy and happiness.

“What are you naming her?” Dr. Matthews asks.

With our eyes trained on each other, Mia answers with the name we’ve had picked out for months. “Aubrey.”

Present

I
didn’t think it was possible to love someone else as much as I love Mia, but as soon as they put Aubrey in my arms, I knew I was wrong. But with that love comes new anxieties. She’s only six years old, and right now all I can think about is if I die out here today, she won’t really remember me. She’ll only know the stories Mia tells her and will go through life not having a dad.

I know what it’s like to not have my dad around, and I don’t want that for my family.

The smoke is still pretty thick, but I can’t see the flames. However, the constant roar as it eats up everything in its path makes it hard to tune out. Damn, I hope all the rest of my team made it out of this hell and aren’t in the same position as me.

As the ache in my chest dulls from remembering the loss of Gary, the backs of my eyes sting, but no tears form. There’s not enough water in my body to cry right now, but the thought of abandoning my family is a dagger to my heart.

I’m a selfish asshole for choosing this job. Mia wasn’t a fan, but she supported me anyway.

My mind goes back five years when I approached Mia with this. I wish I had a time machine so I could slap myself upside the head. Because if I had known I’d be lying here in a forest dying, I would have never signed up for this shit.

November 2011

O
n my drive home from work, a lot weighs on my mind. I want to ask Mia how she feels about a possible career shift, but I’m nervous about her reaction. This would be a big leap for not only me, but for our whole family, and I haven’t been taking that lightly. Aubrey and Mia are my biggest priorities, so if she doesn’t want to do this, then I won’t. I’d never do anything to jeopardize our relationship or break up our family. Still, it’s something I want to pursue, so I can only hope she’ll support me through it.