September 16th (Day 3): “I’m here now.” + hurt/comfort
“Hen,” Karen gasps, shooting her hand out blindly to try and reach her wife’s, “Hen. W-wasn’t sure you’d make it.”
“I’m here now,” Hen nods, trying not to let the tears of guilt fall until later, until her wife was no longer in acute pain and needed her to be the strong one.
Everything about this had been a surprise. They had decided, on a whim, to try one more round of IVF, while they were in the beginning processes of becoming eligible to foster through California social services. Only one embryo was possibly viable– emphasis on the possible. No one, not them, not the doctors, were really expecting it to take.
They had been so caught up in the interviewing process, in prepping their home and all their friends to confirm to the various social workers that they were fit to be foster parents that Karen didn’t even notice that her period had been late. She never even planned to take a pregnancy test, just assuming it would be another disappointment.
But then her breasts started to ache, and the smells of certain foods started to make her stomach churn, and there were days after even the fullest nights of sleep that she couldn’t even keep her eyes open.
She decided to go into the doctor’s office for a blood test, with no chance of error, before getting Hen’s hopes up.
As fate would have it, they were expecting. And after a smooth first trimester, they still were trying not get their hopes up, and then the 20 week scan and tests confirmed they were going to have a healthy baby, and they finally started to let themselves fill up with joy.
“Oh God,” Karen groans, “baby, it hurts so bad.”
“I know, I know,” Hen hums, smoothing over her wife’s sweat soaked hair, “I know, baby, but you can do it. You’re bringing our daughter into the world; you’re a superhero.”
True to the theme of the pregnancy, Karen had gone into surprise labor two weeks before her due date, in the middle of an earthquake. Cell service had been down and Hen hadn’t even gotten the call until Karen had been laboring for hours, her water already broken while she had been almost all the way across the city from her, trying to rescue children from a collapsing school building.
It feels like a miracle that she had gotten there in time, just like this baby feels like a miracle in itself.
“H-hurts!” she cries, squeezing Hen’s hand so tightly that it should cause her pain, but all she’s focused on is that her wife is about to give birth to their daughter, the best surprise of their lives.
“You can do it, you can do it. You’re unbelievable Karen, you can do it.”
The doctor encourages her to push, and there’s a determination in Karen’s eyes that Hen’s not sure she’s ever seen before. She’s screaming and crying but pushing with all her might and Hen doesn’t think she’s ever been so proud of anyone before.
“Almost there! Can see the head.”
“You hear that, baby? You’re doing great. She’s almost here.”
“A-almost– AAAH!” she shrieks, another contraction, another push.
And then a cry that’s not her own feels the room.
Her daughter; their daughter.
“She’s here– oh, K-Karen, she’s perfect,” Hen whispers, watching as the doctor lays the screaming baby down on her wife’s chest.
“Hi,” Karen sobs, overwhelmed with love for the little girl that they’ve just met, “hi, Holly. Hi. Welcome to the world outside my belly.”