The Rise of A Phoenix

Chapter Sixteen- An Early Finish

I made it to thirty- six weeks before I felt the signs that the finish line might be closer than expected. I was at home resting after a particularly difficult PT session and my hips started to hurt. This was normal after Perry put my hips through a proper workout, so I thought nothing of it. I felt like a watermelon.

“Oh, my dear daughter, please stop parking your head on top of my bladder. Sprinting is not my forte. Goodnight Irene! I never thought I would have to master the art of covering ten feet of distance in three seconds. My God, I earned the title Duckfeet when Tressa said I waddle like a duck,because my hips were bad and it's still true, only now it's not because my hips force my feet to point outward. “, I thought this as I attempted to make it across the hall to my bathroom for the fourth time in an hour.

My goodness, I'm leaking again. I barely drank anything today. I need to figure out why I'm leaking fast, or I can't do group trauma therapy next Wednesday afternoon or physical therapy on Thursday morning, and since my daughter is close to making her appearance, it’ll be my last session on both until I deliver her.

It was driving me insane. I was writing at my desk in my office afterward when my hips started cramping. I figured it was because I had been still for too long. I stood up, everything locked up from the hips down and I barely got a grip on the end of my desk. That's when my water broke.

“God help me because she's coming early. Shoot me now. I’m so not ready.” I whispered under my breath. I staggered to my wheelchair in the corner of my office.

“Oh, my God. I can't do this myself. Everything hurts. Oh…I can't…ahh…dear God, this hurts.” I muttered as the first contractions started. I rolled through my office into my kitchen, looking for my cell phone, focused on anything but the pain of my labor. I had to, else the pain would swallow me completely. I finally found my phone and my charging cord, plugged it in and dialed Dr. Platt’s office. It was the weekend but I got the nurse on duty on the phone and explained my situation.

“My water broke and I'm four weeks away from my due date. The contractions are ten minutes apart. I'm by myself and I don't think I'll make it to the hospital if I take the bus. Oh my God, here it comes again. Oh, sweet flying dictionaries…this hurts worse than the labral repair surgery on my hips did and that was absolutely excruciating.” I said this between timing my breathing patterns out and noting how far apart my contractions were. The nurse told me Dr. Platt would send a midwife out to see how far I'd progressed, but this came with a warning-I might not make it that far and if I felt I wouldn't, to call the paramedics to come and get me.

“Okay-—still ten minutes apart. Thanks.” I said before I hung up my phone.

My body was telling me I needed to be flat, so I grabbed supplies so I wouldn't ruin my bedsheets and an extra pillow, and headed towards my bedroom. After I prepped everything and laid flat, I put the pillow between my knees to keep them spread because I knew my body would try clamping my legs shut as part of the pain response and the midwife wasn't there yet, so the best I could do was to put something between my knees to try and keep them open.

Ow…oh Hemingway, why did we do what led to this? I wish you were here holding my hand. I miss you so much. I really do. Please, if you're up there watching over me and our daughter, make sure we both make it through this. I can't do it myself. I've done everything right, and my body's in yours and God's hands now. I love you still, my darling. I was only two hours into labor, and I didn't think I had it in me to do what needed to be done.

God, if you're listening, I need some serious help. Give me the strength to survive this and bring my daughter into the world healthy, please. I prayed this over and over. Time passed but I couldn't feel it.

The only thing I could feel was my body's own painful rhythm. Two hours turned into four, and four hours turned into six. Then I heard a knock at my door.

“If you're not important, you can go the hell away. I'm not coming to the door. I'm in labor, geniuses! Stop knocking! Ahh!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, both in pain and irritation.

“Ms. McFadden, I'm Helena. Dr. Platt said you needed a midwife. I'm it.” the stranger knocking at my door said.

“Oh—thank—you. It's about time…wow. That last contraction was a long one. Everything's tense. I can't take my muscle relaxer, can I? I don't know quite how this works when you have a disorder that

affects your muscles. It didn't come up in any of the manuals I read prior to taking birthing class. I'm used to my life not having a manual, though. Five percent, I'm part of the five percent. That's why it doesn't. I know I'm probably not far enough into the process to need to push, but I'm still feeling major pressure. Is this normal?” I was in pain and half rambling, scared out of my mind. Helena walked through my door, calm and placid.

“Ms. McFadden, I know you're scared. I've got you. Just let me do my job. You'll be fine, I promise.” Helena said, sitting on the edge of my bed and unpacking her gear.

“I am the personification of Murphy's Law right now. Scared doesn't even cut it.” I said, exhaling on a five count.

“See, you're doing perfectly.That breathing technique isn't Lamaze though. Where did it come from?” Helena asked me curiously while she checked to see how far my cervix had dilated in the past six hours.

“It comes from the military. I had multiple members of my family serve in the armed forces, including my dad. He's the one who taught me that because my hips hurt when he would do physical therapy with me as a child, and I'd be screaming to the point that I’d be turning blue, so he taught me how to do it to give me something to focus on rather than the pain. It works well normally, but I honestly think it doesn't apply here. Gotta love contractions. I can't keep my legs from almost jamming shut, Helena. Where am I?” I asked her.

“You're three centimeters. You should be moving to help speed the process a little bit.” she said.

“ ‘Kay. My crutches and walker are over there in the corner. Just pick one. I really don't think I should be walking, but right now, Helena, you're the boss. Let's get it together and get this crazy show on the road. I need to see my daughter.” Helena plucked my walker from the corner, carried it over to me, and stood behind me with her hands on my hips as I stood up. This was reminiscent of the years I spent in physical therapy in my childhood because the therapists always had their hands resting on my hips or my back in case I started to fall backward when I was walking with my crutches and they needed to catch me before I hit the ground.

“Okay, I'm on my feet, that's half the battle. The other half will be staying that way while I'm in pain. Let's do this.” And thus began Hell. I finally quit when the pain started to migrate from my hips to my lower back. “Helena, this feels different than the pain has for the past three hours. I think I'm close to needing to push.” I said, hoisting myself back into the bed.

“Let’s get you back to being flat so I can take a look at you. If you're right, I have to get one of my colleagues out here because with it being your first full delivery and with how your body is physically, it's going to take an extra set of hands to get you through this.”, Helena said this while she got me back laying flat with my legs spread.

“How far away am I from ten? I can't take the pain anymore. I'm about done. The only thing that comes close to this is breaking my femur in three places and sitting still for almost five hours waiting for X-rays.” I said this as the contractions repeatedly ricocheted through my body.

I was to “lay flat and pray” stage. I thought about my sister when she went into labor with my niece. That saint of a young woman was in labor for almost twenty-six hours before she was approaching the end. Of course, that was with an epidural, something I didn't have. I was approaching sixteen hours of labor, and I was exhausted.

“I knew she was gonna be huge. I knew. Lord and the Muses help me because I don't think I can make it through this otherwise.” I said this before I exhaled a pained breath.

Helena finished with me and said,

“ You're at eight. I'm calling my colleague out here because you should be ready to finish this in a few hours.”

“Do whatever you need to. I need to see my daughter and I will do whatever it takes for her to get here in one piece instead of broken like I was.” I had a newfound resolve to finish what Tommy and I had started. I laid flat, breathed, and drafted poems in my head while I prayed for the end and my daughter. “Now I have to pee. Jesus, save me.”

“You're amazing. Let's get you moving.” Helena said with a smile.

I wobbled as I staggered to my feet. I was white knuckling a deathgrip around the walker handles.

“Flying dictionaries! Oh my God. I can't make it across the hall. I need a bucket. Unless you can carry me across the hall, but I doubt it because of how my body is right now.”, I said shakily. What Helena did next surprised me because she was tiny. She picked me up around my waist and carried me to my bathroom.

Oh, thank God, I made it. I thought that was going to end in disaster. Thank you Helena.”, I said as the liquid left my body in a rush. I was dressed only from the waist up because with my female hardware the way it was, it would have taken too long and taken way too much effort to strip naked every time Helena needed to see how far dilated I was. I didn't care because I was home in my own apartment and having a baby.

I most certainly wasn't winning any beauty pageants at this point, unless it was for Beauty During Labor. I didn't look like myself at all. The woman I saw in the mirror was pale as a ghost, covered in sweat, and shaking. I looked as exhausted as I felt, but I knew I'd survive when I felt my daughter dropping into perfect position. The end was close. I could feel it buried deep within me.

After all, I was my mother's daughter and I had handled the entire pregnancy with grace. This was the finish line. I held onto the bathrqoom door frame as I waited for Helena to come get me. When she came, she was accompanied by another woman who didn't introduce herself to me but spoke to Helena as though she was her mouthpiece. All conversation halted when I collapsed to my knees.

“Ladies, I think I need to push. I'm not going to make it back to the bedroom and horizontal. Everything is too fast. Oh…not in the middle of the tile floor, please, my darling daughter, please.” My voice was quaking as I spoke and I was in tears, scared out of my mind.

“Okay, Ms. McFadden, we've got you. Charlotte, start the bathtub. If she does this as a water birth, it’ll be less painful on her hips and spine. And she's got a huge bathtub so we'll have plenty of space to work.”

Oh God, grab my bathing suit top, would you? It's in my dresser next to the bookshelf. I can't be doing this in a T-shirt. It's too hot. It's so hot here. Helena appeared in the doorway with my bathing suit top in hand. Her heels clicked against the tile as she came toward me.

She helped me up,stripped me naked and redressed me from the waist up. Then she and Charlotte lifted me gently into the tub. I felt the ricochet of my uterus and screamed.

“Oh my God! I don't think I have it in me. I can't do this. This is worse than any physical therapy bushwhacking, and I've had plenty of hard workouts. Why did I do this?”

I didn't think I'd make it. Everything from the hips down hurt like hell.

“Okay, I need to look you over because you might be close. You were at eight a half hour ago. With the amount of pain you're in, you should be ready to push.” Helena said this while she checked me over.

Okay, you're at ten. We need to shift you up so your lower half is out of the water. That way, we don't drown your baby when she makes her way out of you.”

“Okay, do it fast. She's trying to come out as fast as fire.”, I said, gasping for breath.

“Okay. Charlotte, grab her up under her arm on the left side. I'll grab her on the right side and we'll lift her. One, two, three.” They lifted me up and the water splashed around me. I felt the pain coming, and I started to push, counting to ten under my breath. “I think I lost count. Shoot.” I said in panic.

“It's OK. We'll keep time for you. You just focus on being awesome and having your baby. We've got you.” Helena said this with a smile and a squeeze of my shoulder.

My heart was pounding and my breath was becoming shorter.

“Mom, I can't. I'm not strong enough. I can't do this. What on earth made me think I could? God help me. Mom, I'm sorry. Hemingway, I can't. I'm sorry. I love you but I'm sorry. The steel’s bending and the boat’s gonna sink. I can't…do…this.” I rambled. I railed. I was out of my mind as the pain wrapped around me and held me in a viselike grip. I pushed for almost two hours. When I finally got to the end, I had no energy, no grace, nothing. My breath was coming out ragged and it hurt.

The only thing I had left to hold onto was my writing mentor George Beckman's voice in my head, saying, Remember the three pound kid in the incubator. You still carry her with you. Your daughter is almost here, Pixie. Just a little further. You can do this. Don't feel it. If you do, you'll drown in the pain. Think and focus anywhere but this. Anywhere but this.

His voice coupled with my mother's in my head next, only my mother's was less gentle than his. I kept hearing the beginning of my mother's presurgery speech to me in my head. Remember you're my daughter. You're my kid. Remember your last name.

“ Professor, what the hell am I doing? My hips can't handle this. My body can't do this. I'm exhausted. This is hell. Mom, I'm sorry.” I was having an entire conversation with them out loud even though they were in my head.

I snapped back to reality when I heard Helena say the words I’d

wanted to hear her speak for two hours: One last push. I can see her head.

I didn't know where it came from, but somehow I mustered the strength for one last push. I put everything I had into that last one. Helena caught my daughter's head and her shoulders followed. I cried in relief when I heard her wail. “Hi, Georgia, my beautiful darling daughter, hi. What took you so long? You must be bullheaded. You didn't want to come out, but Mama won the war in the end and now you're here.”

I was exhausted, but I managed to smile as Helena and Charlotte cut her umbilical cord, clamped it, weighed and measured her. “Seven pounds, ten ounces, nineteen inches long.” Helena called out to me as she was recording the measurements and the time of birth on the birth certificate.

“Name?”

“Georgia Tamatha McFadden. Naming her after my writing mentor George Beckman and my mom, Tamatha Mahon.”

“Beautiful name for what's going to be a beautiful girl, and if she's anything like her mother, a feisty one. I still haven't forgotten your first words to me.” Helena said this with a smile as she went to get my wheelchair from my office. Charlotte laid Georgia on my chest after she cleaned her up from all the blood and fluid involved in her exit from my body and all I could do was smile and cry tears of joy. Georgia was absolutely perfect. I couldn't believe it. The fact that I grew and birthed such a being was astonishing to me because I didn't think I could until now.

I was still rather delirious from the pain, shock and exhaustion, and so I asked:

“What do I do about my bloody bathtub? I'll never get the bloodstains out of the porcelain! There goes my security deposit! So worth it. Love you, my darling Georgia. Hahahaha!”