Rachel
I never thought I’d feel a baby growing inside of me. After two miscarriages, Nick and I were about to give up trying to have a child of our own and adopt. And then it happened. At first, we didn’t tell anyone about the baby. I was afraid to, afraid that if I told anyone, even Piper, I’d miscarry again. So we kept the pregnancy a secret and I worried about every little ache and pain.
I don’t know what I would’ve done without Nick. We’d been together fourteen years, married on the fifth anniversary of me being cancer free. Mother threw us a beautiful reception on our south lawn, where we were also married. I miss Mother so much. She died right before I learned I was pregnant for the third time. She would’ve loved seeing my big belly and I’m sure would’ve insisted on outfitting the entire nursery. She loved babies. It was one of the reasons she volunteered as a cuddler at the hospital’s neonatal intensive care unit. And it was why she donated the money to build a new state of the art NICU.
Sometimes I’m afraid the cancer will return. The fear is always in my mind, lurking in dark passages and hiding in the shadows of so many tragedies. But then I feel my baby kick or see her tiny hand poke my belly from the inside out and I know that all is well with the world.
Nick and I know the cancer could come back, but we’ve decided to focus on what’s happening and not what could happen. Life is too short not to. We live, we love, we die. And in those moments of doubt during the stillness of the day, I think about Mother and all she did for Piper and me. And I know just what I will do to honor her.
***
I don’t remember much of the ride to the hospital. The contractions were getting closer and closer and I wasn’t prepared for the intense pain that racked my body. I thought they would feel like really bad menstrual cramps, but the pain was a million times worse. It radiated across my lower back and felt like someone had their hands deep inside of me and was twisting my internal organs. Then it would subside and start all over again. I tried breathing like I’d learned in class, but the searing pain made it hard to concentrate.
Piper was on one side of me and Nick was on the other.
“You’re doing great, sweetheart,” Nick said. “I love you so much. You’re doing great.”
The pain came in waves. I could feel it begin, crest and subside.
Over and over.
Harder.
Faster.
More intense.
Suddenly I had this incredible urge to push! “Ugh!”
The doctor was at the end of the delivery table. “I can see the head. We’re almost there.”
I looked at Piper. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Nick’s right, Rach. The baby’s almost here.”
“NOW!” the doctor yelled. “Give me one more big push.”
I gave it everything I had. It felt as if I was squeezing out my entire insides but I just kept pushing.
The next thing I knew I heard my baby.
“You have a daughter,” the doctor said. “Congratulations!”
Nick cut the umbilical cord and laid Mary Katherine next to my beating heart where I knew she would stay forever and ever.
I love you, Mary Katherine, forever and always.