“Hell-o.” I gave him a look. “I’m standing right here.”
“Sure,” she muttered. “I can stay for a little while.”
Excited that Lady Gaga was joining us, but more excited to meet my new babies, I waddled toward the birthing center’s entrance with Lady Gaga on my left, and Braxton on my right.
Thirty minutes later, the excitement had been replaced with anger and disappointment.
Giving birth—or attempting to give birth—was a nightmare. There was nothing easy about it. If everyone knew how mind-numbingly difficult it was to push a child out of their twat, nobody would be having unprotected sex.
I gazed mindlessly at the television on the far wall. I was exhausted. I was drenched in sweat. My legs were numb. I felt like I’d pissed myself. Enough was enough.
I was on the cusp of throwing in the towel.
“I really need you to push this time,” Braxton said. “Come on, Baby.”
“I have been pushing,” I complained. “It’s hard.”
“You don’t want them to cut you, Anna. Believe me, I’ve been cut, and it’s not fun. You’ll be embarrassed every time you wear your bikini.”
He was right. I didn’t want to be cut. The unsightly scar would haunt me in my dreams.
I let out a long sigh. “Okay.”
“We’ll try one more time,” the doctor warned. “After this, we may have to do the cesarean.”
I shifted my gaze from the television to Braxton. “Give me your hand,” I said. “We can do this.”
Braxton gripped my right hand in his. I scanned the room. There were two nurses, a doctor, and Hap, all waiting for me to perform.
I looked at Hap. “Grab my other hand, Dad.”
“You’ve got it, Kiddo,” he replied.
With my only father on one side and my only lover on the other, I waited. In a moment, the doctor made the announcement.
“Here we go,” he said. “One, two, three. PUSH!”
I pushed with every ounce of my being, screaming like a mental patient the entire time.
The room fell silent. My vision blurred. Everything went black. There was no pain, only an odd sensation that my nearly numb lower region was dissolving. Then, it ended. I felt slight relief, but in a very odd sense. I craned my neck to see of something happened, but my eyes couldn’t come into focus.
A baby’s crying filled the room.
My eyes welled with tears.
Our first born was an adorable little boy. We’d already decided to name him Brandon, after Braxton’s brother. We’d chosen several girl’s names but hadn’t been able to make up our minds. I said when the time came, we’d see which name we felt fit her the best.
A few minutes later, our little girl was born.
“Any ideas on names?” Braxton asked, cradling her in his arms.
Beyond him, Hap held little Brandon. His face glowed with a golden tan from his daily runs along the beach with Braxton. His eyes, glistening with admiration, were fixed on his first grandson.
I met Braxton’s gaze. “Ally,” I said. “After Ally Campano, in the movie.”
Braxton grinned. “I should have known.”
After everyone was checked out and cleaned up, Brandon was nestled in the valley between my right arm and my breast. Ally rested in the same place on my left side. I gave each of them an admiring look. My journey was only beginning. Our family was growing.
I felt as if I were dreaming.
I’d just given birth to two healthy twins. My husband stood proudly on one side of me, and my father-in-law stood beaming with pride on the other. All of our prayers, in their entirety, had been answered.
“Alright,” I said. “Send them in.”
Pratt and Marge came through the door. Upon seeing the babies, their faces lit up with joy. Behind them was Lady Gaga, the woman who gave me the courage to take the journey.
I glanced at my newborn babies, and then at each of the people who surrounded me. High on the wall behind Hap, the news played silently on the television. On the screen was the weather forecast.
No rain for the next 7 days. Only sunshine.
The corners of my mouth curled into a grin. My mother was right. We were beginning our sixth month of a drought.
And I was living a dream.