“I have an idea.”
“Care to share it?” she asked as she readjusted herself.
“It’s a surprise.”
She looked at me like I had lost my mind.
“I don’t like—”
“Not all surprises are bad,” I cut her off. She sank back against her seat and sighed. I couldn’t see her face, but I knew she was rolling her eyes.
Jenn
December 25, 2010, Christmas day
“With this next contraction we need you to push,” the doctor called up to me from between my legs. Shane was squeezing my hand so tightly I thought he would break the bones.
“I can’t.” I was overwhelmed. I knew everyone we cared about was out in the waiting room and I was going to let them down.
“You can do this, Jenn. This is the only way we can meet our son.”
“Hold her leg up.” A nurse grabbed one of my knees and pulled it toward my chest. Shane grabbed the other and pulled back as the nurse did.
“Grab under your knees and bring your head to your chest,” the nurse instructed. We watched the monitor as my next contraction began to build.
“That’s it. Bare down. Good girl.”
I held my breath as I pushed with all of my strength. Shane looked absolutely terrified.
“You can do this, Jenn. You’re the strongest person I know,” Shane said as he held my leg up. I gasped for breath as my contraction subsided.
“This is too much.” I panted as I relaxed my head back onto my pillow.
“I can see his head. Don’t give up now. A few more pushes and he will be here,” the doctor tried to encourage me.
As the pressure built again, I grunted as I pressed my chin into my chest. I could hear them cheering me on as I squeezed my eyes closed and focused on holding my son in my arms.
“Stop pushing for a minute.” The doctor was working down between my legs and I couldn’t see what was happening. Panic began to set in as I looked to Shane. When his eyes met mine, he smiled.
“One last push,” the doctor said.
I stared into Shane’s eyes as I pushed one last time and the room filled with cheers.
“It’s a boy,” the doctor said as a nurse used a device to clear the babies throat and nose.
“Why isn’t he crying?” Shane asked as I struggled to see my baby.
Seconds later, we heard the sweetest sound I have ever heard. Our son took a deep breath and cried. Tears of joy rolled down my cheeks as they placed him in my arms, cocooned in a small blanket.
“He’s perfect.” I smiled up at Shane, who had tears in his eyes. He placed his finger in the palm of our son’s, who gripped it tightly.
“Congratulations,” the doctor said as he continued to work on me.
“We have to tell everyone.” Shane’s face lit up and he turned toward the door. I grabbed his T-shirt sleeve and kept him next to me. “We have to name him first.”
“Owen Ryan Tudor.” Shane smiled down at our baby.
“Owen. That’s perfect.” I held him up for Shane to take. He slipped his arms around the baby, carefully holding his head like May had taught him. He pulled him into his chest.
“I will always protect you, Owen. Daddy will always have your six.”
“Care to share it?” she asked as she readjusted herself.
“It’s a surprise.”
She looked at me like I had lost my mind.
“I don’t like—”
“Not all surprises are bad,” I cut her off. She sank back against her seat and sighed. I couldn’t see her face, but I knew she was rolling her eyes.
Jenn
December 25, 2010, Christmas day
“With this next contraction we need you to push,” the doctor called up to me from between my legs. Shane was squeezing my hand so tightly I thought he would break the bones.
“I can’t.” I was overwhelmed. I knew everyone we cared about was out in the waiting room and I was going to let them down.
“You can do this, Jenn. This is the only way we can meet our son.”
“Hold her leg up.” A nurse grabbed one of my knees and pulled it toward my chest. Shane grabbed the other and pulled back as the nurse did.
“Grab under your knees and bring your head to your chest,” the nurse instructed. We watched the monitor as my next contraction began to build.
“That’s it. Bare down. Good girl.”
I held my breath as I pushed with all of my strength. Shane looked absolutely terrified.
“You can do this, Jenn. You’re the strongest person I know,” Shane said as he held my leg up. I gasped for breath as my contraction subsided.
“This is too much.” I panted as I relaxed my head back onto my pillow.
“I can see his head. Don’t give up now. A few more pushes and he will be here,” the doctor tried to encourage me.
As the pressure built again, I grunted as I pressed my chin into my chest. I could hear them cheering me on as I squeezed my eyes closed and focused on holding my son in my arms.
“Stop pushing for a minute.” The doctor was working down between my legs and I couldn’t see what was happening. Panic began to set in as I looked to Shane. When his eyes met mine, he smiled.
“One last push,” the doctor said.
I stared into Shane’s eyes as I pushed one last time and the room filled with cheers.
“It’s a boy,” the doctor said as a nurse used a device to clear the babies throat and nose.
“Why isn’t he crying?” Shane asked as I struggled to see my baby.
Seconds later, we heard the sweetest sound I have ever heard. Our son took a deep breath and cried. Tears of joy rolled down my cheeks as they placed him in my arms, cocooned in a small blanket.
“He’s perfect.” I smiled up at Shane, who had tears in his eyes. He placed his finger in the palm of our son’s, who gripped it tightly.
“Congratulations,” the doctor said as he continued to work on me.
“We have to tell everyone.” Shane’s face lit up and he turned toward the door. I grabbed his T-shirt sleeve and kept him next to me. “We have to name him first.”
“Owen Ryan Tudor.” Shane smiled down at our baby.
“Owen. That’s perfect.” I held him up for Shane to take. He slipped his arms around the baby, carefully holding his head like May had taught him. He pulled him into his chest.
“I will always protect you, Owen. Daddy will always have your six.”
