SABRINA
(NINE MONTHS AFTER DIVORCE)
Agony. It's like being torn in two – the physical agony, the hurt deep inside. I've endured these sensations nonstop for the past eleven hours.
I'd heard whispers about labor pains, about contractions. But the reality, the searing pain coursing through me, was beyond any expectation. No one had warned me it would be this excruciating. No one had prepared me for the relentless ordeal of trying to bring my baby into the world, a struggle that has stretched on far longer than I could have imagined.
I chose the path of home delivery, shunning the idea of hospital walls witnessing my journey to motherhood. The fear of prying eyes and wagging tongues led me to make this decision.
Seth, after extensive research and effort, recommended the midwives attending to me. However, he was never truly onboard with the idea of a home birth. His concern revolved around how the midwives might handle potential complications. He feared the worst. But my dad managed to sway his opinion, reminding him that I myself was born right here at home, in this very house.
Seth dipped the towel into the cold water, wringing it out before gently dabbing it on my face. The coolness offered relief from the sweat and helped me stay refreshed. With every pained grunt that escaped me, Seth's expression twisted into a worried frown. Leaning in close, he murmured, "You possess remarkable strength, Sabrina. I have no doubt you'll conquer this."
A brief respite from the contractions allowed me to muster a smile. Despite my exhaustion and breathlessness from the intense shouting and tears, I managed to ask, "Have you had breakfast yet?"
Dipping the towel into the bucket once more, Seth continued his soothing ministrations, wiping my forehead. His voice was gruff as he replied, "We can discuss that later. I can't bring myself to eat knowing you're enduring such excruciating agony."
Just then, my father entered the room accompanied by one of the midwives. Struggling to sit up, I was met with quick support from Seth, who adjusted my pillow to ensure my comfort."What's happening? Is something amiss?"
Her gentle smile was meant to offer reassurance, though it struggled to provide comfort in the face of another impending contraction. "Everything is alright," she said softly, her voice a soothing attempt as I sensed the next wave of pain building within me. "Your dilation is progressing slowly, but there's no need to worry."
Seth's concern cut in, his words punctuating the air. "I believe we should consider taking her to the hospital," he suggested urgently, his hand in mine. "She's been enduring this agony for more than nine hours now." As I grappled with yet another painful surge, I clung tightly to his hand. His gaze locked onto mine, and then he leaned down, planting a tender kiss on my forehead. "Could you at least provide something to alleviate her pain?"
"This is a natural process, Mr. Andrews," Sally, the midwife, explained with a calm demeanor. "I've already administered the necessary pain relief, but it can't eliminate all the discomfort."
"Damn it!" He swore aloud, his focus snapping back to me as my cries subsided. "Do you think you can manage a glass of water?" he inquired, concern etched on his face. "You'll strain your voice if you keep yelling without hydrating."
I nodded in agreement, indicating my willingness for him to fetch some water. He tenderly kissed my knuckles, a fleeting gesture, before gently releasing our intertwined hands and reaching for the water on the nearby table. My gaze shifted from him to Dad and the departing midwife.
Returning to my side, Seth held a bottle of water fitted with a straw. Carefully inserting the straw into the water, he brought it closer to my lips, urging me to take small sips. I obediently wrapped my lips around the straw, sipping the liquid to quench my thirst and soothe my parched throat. After drinking the necessary amount, I pulled away.
Seth's firm grip enveloped my hand once more. His voice, a gentle hush, urged me, "Squeeze as tightly as you can when the pain returns." With a tenderness that belied the situation, he tucked away unruly strands of hair behind my ear.
Lost in my thoughts, I muttered softly, my gaze fixated on the door that concealed Dad and Sally. "I have a feeling something isn't right. They're keeping something from us."
Seth's brow furrowed, a mixture of concern and denial flickering in his eyes. "There's nothing wrong, I assure you," he reassured me, though his anxious gaze betrayed his words. "Creating a beautiful baby takes time to bring into the world."
A chuckle escaped me despite the pain, and I squeezed his hand firmly as another contraction surged through me. Seth's attention turned to his wristwatch, his focus on timing the ordeal. He maintained his watchful gaze, waiting until the contraction's grip on my hand eased. "That one lasted for seventy seconds," he noted.
Summoning his presence, I called out his name, and he leaned in close to spare me the effort of raising my voice. "Seth," I began, my words deliberate, "if anything were to happen to me, I want you to take the baby to Mykel."
“Shut the f**k up!” He snapped at me. “If you want to take the baby to Mykel, you have to take her yourself and for that to happen, you’ll have to get out of this first.”
The door swung open once more, and dad reentered alongside Sally. "How long has the contraction been going on?" Sally queried, addressing the other midwife present in the room.
"Seventy seconds and they're spaced four minutes apart," came the reply.
Abruptly, the sensation to push surged through me, an undeniable urge that couldn't be ignored. My eyes widened, and Seth, who was quick to perceive my distress, leaned in closer. "Are you alright?" he inquired, his concern evident.
"I feel like I need to push," I managed to mumble, the words escaping amidst the screams that the next contraction elicited.
Sally, focused and efficient, addressed both Dad and Seth. "We'll need a moment alone, if you don't mind," she stated, slipping on a pair of gloves with swift purpose. "It seems the time has finally come for the baby to make her entrance."
"Oh," Seth muttered with evident reluctance, attempting to release his fingers from my grasp. But I clung to him, my grip unyielding. "You'll need to let me go, cupcake," he gently urged, his voice holding a note of reassurance. "I'll be just outside the door."
I shook my head, a determined refusal escaping my lips. "I want him here," I managed to murmur, the words broken by the onset of yet another contraction that prompted me to scream.
Dad’s query broke through my cries, "Are you sure about that?" My screams became the only response he received. Taking my continued shouting as affirmation, he exited the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.
Forty-five minutes of intense pushing and screaming followed, and finally, the cries of my baby filled the room. Seth's wide grin was unmistakable as he leaned down to plant a tender kiss on my forehead. "Have you chosen a name?" he asked, his joy palpable.
"Rose," I answered, the name a symbol of the joy and laughter I believed she would bring into my life, much like the beauty of a rose.
Aksara