Finding Her

Chapter 12

Several months had passed and I found myself pacing around a hospital room. The heart monitors and the whir of medical equipment were loud and clear throughout the room. Today was the day that my son would come into the world.

"Alex would you please stop pacing, you're making me more nervous than I should be." Alana fussed.

I stopped and gave her a reassuring smile, "Sorry, I'm just excited. How much longer 'til go time?"

"Depends on what the doctor says when he comes in here. Now, calm down and just sit with me."

I reluctantly sat, I was so ready to see my son! I'd waited so long for this, I don't see how Alana was so patient and calm about this. Soon, we would have a perfect little boy to take care of together, and that was the most exciting thing ever!

Another hour passed by before the doctor told us it was time for Alana to push. The pain of each contraction increased the further her labor progressed, but still she refused any form of pain relief. Her grip on my hand was far stronger than that of the day we told her family about the pregnancy.

The doctor monitored her contractions closely. "Alright, Alana, you're starting to crown. Big pushes now." He instructed in a polite yet firm way. Alana obeyed, gritting her teeth while squeezing my hand tighter. A nurse counted to ten before allowing Lana to relax.

They waited for each contraction to tell her to push, each time the nurse counted to ten. Each time Alana gritted her teeth to hold back her pained screams, her iron grip on my hand tightening.

Fifteen minutes later my son was free from his mother's womb, coated in afterbirth and blood, his displeased screams filled the room louder than the medical equipment. The nurses took him, cleaned him up, weighed him, put security bracelets on him, and wrapped him in a receiving blanket before handing him over to my wife.

I couldn't help but to stare in awe at the tiny little boy. He was seven pounds and ten ounces, twenty inches long. He was a good mix of both me and Alana with her hair and her nose, my complexion, my eyes, and mouth. He was perfect in every way.

"Alright, my dear, what are we going to name him?" I asked quietly, my eyes never leaving my son. One thing was for certain, my son would not be the player I was when I was a teenager. Lana was quiet for awhile, the gears in her head turned as she thought of a good name for him.

Her thoughts were cut short as a knock sounded at the door. My mother entered with a borage of balloon and an enormous assorted bouquet of multicolored flowers. "How is everyone?" She asked

"We're wonderful!" Alana replied happily, "It was a little bit easier than when I had Alexandra. A lot less exhausting."

"That's fantastic!"

"That reminds me, why did you refuse pain medicine?" I asked, completely confused as to why anyone would refuse an epidural or any other form while pushing out an entire human.

She pursed her lips as she thought, probably trying to decide the best way to explain. She began slowly, "Well, for some women, epidurals either barely work or don't work at all. I'm one of those women. If I had gotten one it would've made no difference, I would've still felt every ounce of pain."

I frowned, "That's terrible! You would think that, by now, they'd have more reliable medicine."

"Doesn't really matter to me. I actually prefer giving birth without the medicine fogging my brain." She replied. "Plus, the pain doesn't really bother me as much as it does some women. Higher pain tolerance I suppose."

"Boy, I don't think I could've home through three births without an epidural!" My mom exclaimed, "I could barely handle the contractions."

My woman was a very brave and strong woman. It made me admire and appreciate her more than ever. Her ability to create life within her body was already pretty amazing, the fact that she could do it without a pain blocker was even more amazing. She was stronger than I ever imagined. My warrior, my queen, and an absolute champion.

"That just leaves us with one question still."

"What's that?" Alana and my mom asked, Alana's head cocked to the side and my mom's eyes full of intense curiosity.

"What are we naming him?" I reiterated, reminding Alana of the question I asked earlier.

She smiled lovingly down at our son, they shared a bond stronger than any I'd ever have with him. "Hmmm... How about Jacob Henry Connoly?"

I smiled down at her, "That sounds perfect."

"I second that!" My mom chimed in excitedly. She pulled out her camera and took a few pictures of us while our attention was focused on our son, "Jacob is a wonderful name."

Eventually a nurse came and took our son to the hospital nursery and my mom took that as her cue to go home. We were all reluctant to let him go, but Lana needed the rest and they would monitor him closely while she did.

"You did great today, baby. I'm proud of you." I whispered, softly stroking her black hair.

She turned her head and looked at me, "You really think so?"

"Hell yeah! You're a total bad ass in my eyes for being and to do that. Not just once, but twice!" I replied honestly. "I would've chickened out as soon as I started feeling the pain."

Alana gently laughed, careful not to disturb her sore lady bits. "I just do what I'm told and try to get through it."

"Yeah, but, you still had to go through so much pain and you handled it so well," I stated factually, "I'm so glad I could be here for you. Even if it meant almost losing my hand!"

She giggled, "You're such an idiot, Alex. You didn't almost lose you're hand!"

"I totally almost did!" I protested, waving my slightly bruised hand around dramatically. A laugh escaped Alana's stubborn lips.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Alex."