Unexpected New Years Gift

My wife and I were sitting together on the couch watching a movie when she started feeling contractions. She randomly gripped my hand and dug her nails into it like it was a stress ball, well, if stress balls bled. "I think the baby's coming, Micha" she hissed through her clenched teeth. It honestly took me a few seconds to register what she said because I was too focused on the amount of force she used to grip my hand and the blood that dripped from my hand into my lap.

When it did register, I started to panic a bit. This is our first baby, and its new years eve so I didn't think the baby had the audacity to come right now but alas our new baby is already showing us that he's going to be a pain in our asses. I'm going to blame it on Sasha's side of the family. Did you know her mother was in labor for about 14 hours on her birthday when giving birth to Sasha? All because Sasha had the gall to demand to come out at 2 o'clock in the morning on her mother's birthday of all days. Her mother decided to tell me Sasha's birth story when I played captain obvious and pointed out their shared birthday.

I snapped out of my train of thought when I saw Sasha struggling to sit up. I gently pushed her up with my hands supporting her back. I ran to get her slippers, yelling across the house for her to take deep breaths. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. All the research I did is gone because panic mode is enabled. I rushed over to her, kneeling down and putting her slippers on like Prince Charming does for Cinderella. Except instead of a dainty, maid looking lady whom I'm trying to identify via uncomfortable looking glass shoe, I'm preparing to meet my son as I put oversized pink polar bear slippers on my wife who is gripping the arm of the couch with the force of a trash compactor.

"Jesus fucking christ, Michael." she says, trying to force herself up out of the chair. I scramble back on my feet to help her get up. "Yeah, honey?" I ask. I watch as she composes herself as the contractions ease up a bit. I stare at her in confusion, waiting for her to respond. She grabs a fistful of my shirt, pulling me close to her face which forces me to bend down awkwardly to match her height. "If you ever get me pregnant again, I'm cutting off your dick." she says. I can't decide whether I should laugh or be afraid of her, probably both.

She lets go of my shirt and holds her stomach as she makes pained noises again. I try my best to slowly lead her to the front door and to the car. I almost forget to grab the keys as my eyes are fixed on her. I walk outside with her, and it's only when I step on an unnecessarily sharp pebble do I realize I walked outside without shoes. Sasha's pain wore off just enough for her to laugh at mine. Granted, my pain isn't as bad as hers, and at least she's laughing. Right?

I walk around to the driver's side and start the car, turning on the heater and making sure it's completely unlocked before I walk back around and help her get inside and buckle. "I have to go back inside to get the baby bag, a'right? I'll be right back." I say before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. She shoo's me away with her hand "It's not like I'm fucking going anywhere" she says. I smile and give her another kiss before I run back inside, avoiding the evil pebble I stepped on earlier.

The ride to the hospital was one of the noisiest car rides I've ever experienced. In between the contractions, we tried to discuss baby names. We narrowed it down between 3: Trevor, Rudolph - Rudy for short, or Xavier. Trevor was her fathers name. Rudolph was my grandfathers name, plus its the name of a beloved reindeer. She also included Xavier just because she likes the name and I can't really argue with her right now.

She began to cry when we started getting closer to the hospital. Now I can gauge how much pain shes in. Despite being a 5'4 little lady, my wife isn't much of a crier. The last time she'd really cried was when our dog passed away last year. She's more of an anger-driven individual rather than a tearful one. She must be in a great deal of pain if shes bursting into tears already.

I toggled between handing her tissues and driving until we arrived at the hospital. When we pulled into one of the hospital parking spots, I rushed around to the other side of the car after turning it off to help her out. The way she sort of fell in my arms after telling me to give her a minute kind of broke me. I rubbed her back in soothing circles before slowly trying to guide her to the entrance. Her hands gripped my arms so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She was shaking, her forehead glistened with a light layer of sweat and she counted the seconds between her contractions. she was at 129 seconds.

I began to count with her as I guided her. She couldn't walk well due to the pain so we took baby steps and sort of waddled our way to the door. During the contractions, we stopped for a little bit for her to lean on me and let them pass. "You're doing great, Sasha" I said to her, rubbing her back like I did earlier. I felt her smile with her face pressed in my chest. When she gave me the go-ahead, we began to walk again and we made it to the hospital doors.

I continued to help her get to a waiting room chair, lowering her slowly until she shooed me away to go talk to the lady at the front desk.

The birth was a blur. I don't remember much besides me trying to tune out my wifes screaming and her nails piercing my skin again like they did earlier in the night. We were fortunate enough to only have a 3-hour labor where we finally chose a name. I won the battle and Rudolph was chosen for our son's name. I only won because we started to sing 'Rudolph the rednose reindeer' repeatedly to keep her distracted from the pain.

I watched the doctor and nurses fuss over my wife as I felt out of place in the room. When the baby started to crown, the nurses got so excited. They told us that our son had some wild curls and I let go of my wife's hand to go see. My son did indeed have some messy black curls, similar to Sasha's. I looked up at my wife's face, it was all sweaty and tear-stained. "You're doin' awesome Sash!" I said.

When our son finally came out, he was crying so loudly that I could barely hear my own thoughts. I followed the doctor's instructions when cutting the umbilical cord. My hands were shaking so badly. When I cut the umbilical cord, I saw Sasha slump down on the bed and let out a big exhale before getting ready to push out the placenta at the doctor's command.

Caressing Sasha's hair after moving it from her face was so calming for the both of us after that. While the nurses took Rudolph to be weighed and cleaned and all that, Sasha and I took a minute to relax.

"Michael, I love you, but I'm never doing that again" she said, her eyes are closed as she relishes in the feeling of not being in immense pain. I lean down and plant a kiss on her forehead. "I won't make you, seeing you cry was unnerving" I said with a chuckle. It feels like my heart melts when I hear her let out a small laugh in response to my shitty joke.

One of the nurses comes back in with Rudolph while rocking him softly. He hands Rudy to Sasha with a comment he probably gives most people when returning their baby. When Sasha has Rudy in her arms, she looked up at me with tears brimming her eyes again. Except instead of her tearing up from pain, it's from joy this time. She looked back down at Rudy with complete adoration.

"Hey little guy," she said in a soft voice. Obviously, Rudy didn't respond seeing as he's a baby. "You're kind of cute, but you're going to have to make it up to me for hurting me"

I smiled at her silliness as I examined Rudy for the first time. His dark curls are tucked under the swaddle blanket and his skin is a dark complexion like Sasha's. Well, its a few shades lighter because I'm his dad and I'm one of the palest white people ever. But nevertheless, he's still a handsome little man. Even though he's only a few minutes old and he looks like someone mushed mashed potatoes together in the shape of a little human.

Sasha gave Rudy a small kiss on his little forehead as he slept before she checked the clock that was above the door. She looked at me with a small smirk that was muddled by her overall exhausted expression.

"Happy New Year, Micha"