The Doctor's Dilemma

CALLUM

“Push. One, two, three…” the doctor directs her. Not to her, but at her.

Violet, naturally, doesn’t respond well because she hates being talked at.

“I’ve fucking birthed before without all this crap!” she hollers at him while pushing.

Dr. Fellows just grins back at her.

“You’re one feisty mama bear. But that’s good. His head is crowning nicely,” he comments, earning a growl from Violet.

It’s a sound no woman should make, but somehow, she still manages to be alluring as hell doing it.

“I’d watch out, doc. Her foot isn’t too far from your face,” Zach chuckles.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Zach.”

“First name basis, are we?” Violet mutters, her nails digging into my forearm.

Zach winces too, but not as much as I do.

“Damn, you might have landed me in the doghouse, doc.”

“Screw that… You put yourself there,” Violet mutters as her contraction subsides.

“On this next contraction, your little one’s head will be right there for you to touch,” Dr. Fellows tells Violet with a smile.

If he weren’t sitting between her legs right now, I might have found his humor acceptable… but I don’t.

Especially because he’s looking at her in a way that’s far from professional.

“My foot might magically slip,” Violet warns as another contraction grips her.

She grunts hard, her skin reddening from her neck upward from the effort, but even through her pain, she reaches down, and he guides her hand to the baby’s head.

I watch her face light up in wonder as she feels our baby’s head.

“And there you go, a perfect little head all birthed by the mama bear,” the doctor smiles up to her.

He’s a daring son of a bitch, that’s for sure.

“What kind of doctor are you?” she asks, and I can’t help but laugh.

I was thinking the exact same thing.

“The kind that likes to step out of the box and make people’s births fun after they’ve lived in the hospital for months,” he comments. “Now if you push especially hard on this next contraction, he will slide out easily. Do one of you boys want to help?” he asks.

“Hell yeah,” Zach jumps at the opportunity, motioning for Tyler to take over hand holding.

Tyler physically swallows but doesn’t argue, moving silently toward this end of the bed again.

I suppose he did the birthing last time, so it’s only fair Zach has a go.

Maybe next time, I will have the courage to try.

“Damn, Vi. He’s got so much hair.”

“Guess that explains the stupid heartburn?” she grins, despite herself.

“Okay, when Violet is ready. I’ll have you push against her perineum. That’s right here, and you can help guide him with your other hand. Once his shoulders are out, you can use both hands to hold him.”

“Got it,” Zach smiles to Violet. “Look, baby, now I can be the weird hot doctor making jokes.”

“Then my foot… will definitely slip,” she moans.

Even Millie, the nurse, laughs at that one.

“Okay, push firmly now, Zach. Well done, Violet.” I can’t help but peek over to find that, indeed. The little human being slithering its way out of her vagina does have a healthy head full of brown hair covered in that nasty white stuff, that was all over Ella when she was born too.

“Breathe through the pain now, darling,” Millie encourages, walking over with a towel in one hand.

Violet breathes as instructed, letting go of my arm as she stares down to watch Zach help our little boy out and up onto her stomach.

He gurgles as Millie rubs his back, then he full pelt screams as loud as his fucking lungs will allow, curdling my brain cells.

“There you go. Congratulations, guys. November 14th at three o’clock exactly,” Dr. Fellows smiles with his gloved hands held out in front of him as the door swings open, and one of the special nurses comes in.

She walks to the corner, gowning and gloving herself without saying a word.

My gaze flickers between Zach’s and Tyler’s before falling on Violet with tears that are falling without my permission.

Then I look at our beautiful boy right in his perfect eyes.

He’s tiny, just like Ella was. His head is the biggest part of him. He’s long and thin. I couldn’t tell you if he was mine or Zach’s because, despite the dark hair, he looks nothing like either of us.

He has his mother’s lips and a small dainty nose, but that’s all he has similar to Violet.

“Hello baby boy, I’m so glad to meet you,” Violet coos down to him despite the fact her legs are still spread wide with Zach standing right between them.

Tyler is, of course, videoing and taking photos exactly how we had planned.

“You let us know when those contractions start again, won’t you, Violet?” Dr. Fellow asks as we all close around Violet, leaving him standing outside our little circle as the second nurse comes to stand with him and Millie.

“Should I take him and check him over?” Millie asks.

“No, his Apgar score is perfect. Let him lay on his mother a little while longer,” Dr. Fellows decides and that’s what happens, the three of us marveling down at our son that latches almost within a minute or two onto Violet’s breasts.

I take it we will be having another breast hogger like his sister, at least Violet’s weaning Ella off and onto the pumped milk that she has stashed.

God forbid if she had three hungry mouths to feed, plus Zach and me.

Her day would be never-ending in having someone latched on her breasts.

“Well, look at that. You’re a natural Violet.”

“You realize I’m still breastfeeding Ella, right?” she asks snakily as the machine starts to beep rather erratically behind us.

Millie silences them, but she and Dr. Fellows perk up checking the trace for baby b, and the other nurse readies the baby beds turning things on and taking unopened packets and placing them on top.

“I do. How’re those contractions feeling?”

She shrugs, looking up to Dr. Fellows with her jaw set—she’s hiding the pain she’s in.

“They are there,” she admits.

“I’d like to check and see how baby B is positioned if that’s okay?”

“Do I have a choice?” she says, spreading her legs as if she doesn’t give a damn hoot who looks down there anymore.

I wish she would because I hate having to watch him appraise her this way.

“Not really, but it’s always polite to pretend, right?”

“No, Atticus, it’s polite to tell the truth.”

“Well, at least you haven’t lost your juice. Aye, Violet?”

Violet sure does have a weird relationship with her three doctors. I know she’s been here an awfully long time, but they are more like friends who enjoy winding each other up than doctor and patient.

Well, Dr. Fellows at least.

He seems to be the kind of doctor that tries to befriend you and make you laugh or, in Violet’s case, wind her up and then laugh with her.

“That’s really uncomfortable,” she whimpers as he literally looks like he’s rummaging around in the back of the cupboard…in her vagina.

His other hand pushes down on her stomach, though he’s being careful not to jostle our baby on her chest.

“I’m not gonna sugar coat this sweetness, baby, b isn’t a happy trooper. I’m gonna help you get him out asap.”

“Help out how?”

“I’ll pull, and you push. How does that sound?”

“Horrifying,” Violet squeals.

“Who wants to cut this little one’s cord?” Millie asks promptly, clamping his cord in two places before holding up a pair of weird-looking scissors.

“I’ll do it,” Tyler offers after Zach and I stay silent for tooo long.

“Here you go, cut near this clamp. Well done. Let’s get you measured, huh, little man?” Tyler follows Millie off to the side with baby a as she places him down on one of the baby tables.

I want to watch what she’s doing, but I’m forced to look back this way as Violet murmurs and moans.

And I’m horrified to recognize that the doctor literally has his hand way up inside a place it shouldn’t be.

“You can do this, Vi,” I say to distract myself.

It’s either that or decking the one person in this room that can help Violet and our baby out.

“Cal’s right. Push as hard as you can, baby, and he’ll be out and crying on your chest in no time,” Zach pipes up, an equally unhappy look on his face.

I’m worried when Dr. Fellows’s smart mouth stays quiet for far too long, as he’s pulling while Violet pushes, and he only exhales a breath when our second little boy’s face is peeking up at us while he’s still halfway out of Violet.

His head is covered in the same amount of brown hair, and his face is a mirror image of his brother’s. I know they’re identical twins, but damn…they’re like clones of each other. How on earth are we going to tell them apart?

“Looks like this one wanted to be born sunny side up. He’s a bit bigger than his brother, too,” Dr. Fellows chuckles, glancing at the quiet nurse hovering behind him. “Alright, Violet, let’s bring him into the world with this next contraction, okay?”

Violet strains with all her might, her face turning a deep shade of red and her forehead glistening with sweat. It feels like an eternity as she pushes, the doctor cradling our child by the neck. But then, just like his brother, he’s out and resting on her chest.

Dr. Fellows rubs him vigorously for a few minutes before signaling the silent nurse to ring the bell on the wall. Suddenly, the room is filled with noise and activity.

“Why isn’t he crying?” Violet sobs as Dr. Fellows cuts the cord and moves him to the table. He quickly removes his gloves and begins to clean our baby’s face, placing the tiniest face mask I’ve ever seen over his nose and mouth.

We were warned this could happen, and they tried to prepare us for this possibility…but nothing could have readied me for the sight unfolding before my eyes. I watch in horror as the doctor uses his stethoscope, gives two breaths with the bag, and then presses down on his chest with two fingers.

Suddenly, the room is filled with medical staff, all rushing in one after the other. I can’t even see our baby through the crowd surrounding him.

“Baby B is having trouble breathing. I need IV access. You take over bagging. Kelly, get a bed ready in the neonatal unit. Lindsey, help Violet with the afterbirth,” Dr. Fellows barks out orders, his voice stern yet frantic.

Violet’s a wreck, her face wet with tears. Tyler cradles our newborn son, his own tears flowing freely, while Zach and I stand frozen, our hearts pounding as we watch the medical team work on our eerily quiet baby. The silence is so profound, I swear I could hear a needle hit the floor despite the surrounding pandemonium.

“Violet, let’s take care of the afterbirth now,” the midwife says gently.

“But why isn’t he crying?” Violet’s voice trembles with fear.

“Your little guy’s having a bit of a rough start, but he’s in the best hands,” the midwife tries to comfort her.

“Is he…is he going to die?” Violet’s voice breaks on the last word.

“Not on my watch, darling,” Dr. Fellows responds, his voice filled with determination. Just then, the door swings open and more medical staff rush in, wheeling in an incubator from the neonatal unit.

I can only stand there, helpless, watching as they examine our baby, inserting a line into his umbilical cord. He still hasn’t made a sound, but the team seems less frantic now.

Still, they carefully place him in the incubator and wheel him out of the room, with the damn doctor trailing closely behind.