Chapter Thirty-Eight

Trinity

I found myself leaning on my husband in ways I hadn’t anticipated. He was my rock, my anchor in the storm.

He was on the phone with our midwife and doctor in a heartbeat, and they urged us to get to the hospital right away. They needed to figure out which of our twins’ water had broken.

Stephen dashed upstairs to grab my bag while Mia and Clint took care of locking up the house.

At first, I was thrilled.

I’d been hoping for a natural labor, praying I wouldn’t have to be induced or, worse, have a C-section. Everyone I’d talked to said recovery from a C-section was a nightmare compared to a natural birth.

But my joy was quickly replaced by a wave of anxiety. This meant ~now~. Tonight, I’d have to go through labor, the pushing, the pain.

Stephen drove us to the hospital, steady but swift. We were soon shown to a private suite where we waited for the midwife and doctor.

They examined me and confirmed that it was our little boy’s water that had broken. Our baby girl was still safe and sound.

The midwife and nurses checked me over. I was dilated to a four, so they decided to give me an epidural.

I wasn’t in too much pain yet, but they told me the discomfort I’d been feeling all day wasn’t my sciatica acting up—it was contractions.

The nurses bombarded me with a million random and sometimes absurd questions to admit me.

It took them two tries to get my IV in place. I focused on breathing through the contractions, which were slowly starting to build, until the nurse anesthetist arrived.

Most doctors insist on an epidural for mothers expecting multiples. It’s a precaution in case an emergency C-section becomes necessary.

I hated getting the epidural.

Once that was done, it was just me and Stephen in the room, with our midwife popping in to check on us regularly.

Stephen was incredible. If he was nervous, he hid it well.

“You’re amazing, baby. You’re calm, steady, and giving me everything I need right now. I’m on the verge of freaking out,” I confessed.

“Baby, you’ve got this. You’re the strongest woman I know. You’re amazing and I’m so damn proud of you. You’ve got this, momma, and I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“Ugh, I’m dreading the doctor coming back in to check my cervix, baby. That shit hurts like hell.”

“Squeeze my hand as hard as you need to. Don’t be scared, okay? We’re in this together.”

“Together,” I echoed.

“I love you.”

“Oh ~fuck~! I love you too. Shit, ~shit~!”

“Breathe, baby, deep breaths.”

“Ooo, ooo, you know we’re not doing this again, right?”

“We’ll see, baby,” he chuckled.

“Stephen Luciano! ~ARGH~!”

“Focus, baby. We can talk about that another day.”

I squeezed his hand extra hard to show him I meant business. I saw him wince, so I knew he got the message!

***

After about seven hours of labor, my doctor came in and told me it was time to go to the operating room. I was dilated enough.

I hadn’t really thought about the birth until that moment. Suddenly, it all hit me.

I grabbed Stephen’s hand as they wheeled me to the operating room. “I’m scared,” I admitted.

“Baby, don’t be scared. I’m right here. I’ll be with you the whole time. I’m not going anywhere. You’ve got this, baby. I know you do.”

The operating room was bright, and I was taken aback by how many people were there.

Two doctors, including Dr. Carter, an anesthetist, several nurses—some for the babies, some for me.

I realized this wasn’t going to be the peaceful, spiritual birth experience I’d imagined. I started to get nervous.

I began to panic when I heard the nurse mention the possibility of a C-section several times.

“Baby,” I gasped.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Tell that nurse to shut the fuck up or speak quieter. I’m about to punch her in the throat.”

Stephen burst out laughing. “It’s okay, baby. They’re just making sure they’re prepared.”

“If she says ~open her up~ one more time, Stephen…”

“Shh, it’s okay, baby.”

He leaned over to kiss me, his fingers brushing my forehead, trying to distract me from the nurse’s words.

Our kiss was interrupted by another intense contraction. I gripped his hand tightly. He groaned with me, but he kept encouraging me.

“That’s it, baby. Focus. Look at me. It’s okay. We’ve got this.”

“Ahh! We’ve got this, we’ve got this.”

“That’s my girl.”

I kept my eyes locked on Stephen’s, focusing on him. He was my calm in the storm, keeping me from panicking.

I heard the doctor say they were going to top up my epidural and do a pudendal block.

“Okay, Trinity, on the next contraction, you’re going to push,” Dr. Carter instructed.

And so I did, screaming my lungs out. Stephen held my hand, whispering words of encouragement and comfort in my ear.

“Okay, hold on, Trinity. We need to be patient. Stay with me… okay, and push!”

This went on for a few more pushes. I was screaming, delirious, feeling like I was being torn in half.

“Okay, Trinity, one more big push.”

“I can’t anymore,” I sobbed.

“Yes, you can, baby,” Stephen said softly. “Come on, let’s do it together.”

“Okay, Trinity, and push.”

I screamed, gripping both of Stephen’s hands. He groaned in pain as I squeezed his fingers.

“Great job, Trinity! Your son is here.”

A wave of panic washed over me when I didn’t hear his cries right away. But it was only a moment before his lungs filled with air and he let out a loud cry, expressing his displeasure at being evicted from his warm, cozy home.

The nurses reassured Stephen and me that he was fine as they whisked him away to clean him up and weigh him.

But things quickly took a turn. My body didn’t pause as they’d hoped. I started contracting again right away.

This made turning the second baby a lot harder. It’s not uncommon for the first twin to be born naturally and the second to be delivered via C-section.

I’d been praying that wouldn’t be my fate, but suddenly it seemed more and more likely.

“Honey, you need to focus now, okay?”

I nodded at my husband.

Each time I pushed, I could feel our little girl move down, but as soon as the contraction ended and I stopped pushing, she’d move back up.

A uterus that’s carried twins is stretched and there’s too much room for the baby to keep moving down into the birth canal.

Dr. Carter was patient and careful, but time was running out and our little girl’s heart rate was showing signs of distress.

I was pushing and pushing, certain that any minute I’d be rushed to the operating table. I felt myself start to shake and tears welled up in my eyes.

“Please, please, let our girl be okay,” I sobbed, tears streaming down my face. “Do whatever it takes to get her here safe and sound.”

“Honey, it’s okay. You can do this. You’re the strongest person I know.”

I was almost hoping for a C-section just to get her out and into my arms. But I kept pushing with all the strength I had left.

I felt weak, exhausted, and completely overwhelmed. I asked Stephen if he wanted to go be with our son, but he saw the panic in my eyes and stayed right by my side.

Forty-three ~agonizing~ minutes after our son was born, I let out a loud, desperate ~“I CAN'T DO IT!”~ And then, just like that, I pushed our daughter into the world.

She let out a cry and I knew she was okay. Within a minute or two, I delivered the placentas.

They came out so quickly after the baby, one was probably already starting to detach from my uterus. It was a good thing I went into labor when I did.

And then it was over.

Or rather, it was just the beginning. I had two babies in my arms.

Stephen and the nurse wheeled my bed back to my room after we were all cleaned up. I cradled my new loves, staring at them in awe.

Two babies.

Both perfectly healthy.

Neither one needed to be taken to the NICU or away from my arms. I nursed them one at a time, whispering sweet words into their tiny ears.

Stephen sat next to me on the bed as I handed him our son, who weighed six pounds seven ounces, and our daughter, a tiny five pounds eight ounces.

“You did the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. I’m in awe of you, honey. You’re incredible. I can't even put into words how much I love you.”

He leaned over and kissed me, his warm tears falling onto my cheeks.

We gently laid our twins down together in front of us, staring at them in awe.

“Thank you, honey, thank you. My whole world is right here in front of me.” My husband pulled me into his arms, holding me close as we gazed at our beautiful, safe, healthy children.