Part 30 (1/2)

Andy stationed himself between Amy's legs while Barb continued to monitor the IV bag and the oxygen.

Susan looked at Barb expectantly. ”So? Can she have something?”

”I'm not trying to be s.a.d.i.s.tic about this,” Barb said. ”But I'm afraid it'll slow things down.”

”But maybe that's what we want to do,” Susan said. ”Then we could get her to the hospital.”

”No way am I taking a chance on delivering a baby in a helicopter,” said Andy.

Just then Amy began groaning again. Peter, who by now considered himself an expert on the warning signs of impending pain, announced to all that another contraction was coming on.

”Okay, Amy,” said Andy. ”Make this one count. I want to see the baby's head.”

Amy moaned as Susan slid her arms underneath Amy's shoulders from behind, bracing her so Amy could put everything she had into bearing down. Peter and Don each did the same from down below, hooking their arms around her legs. It was a most awkward, animalistic position, and yet Peter found that it didn't faze him in the least to be doing this. As the contraction bore down, Amy brayed for ten, fifteen, twenty seconds.

”She's crowning!” Andy announced.

”You can see the head?” Susan cried. ”Amy, did you hear that? He can see the head!”

”Lotta hair,” Andy murmured.

”Hair!” Susan cried in wonder.

Amy took another breath and made that awful squeezing, grunting sound again.

”Pus.h.!.+” everyone shouted. ”Push, Amy, pus.h.!.+ Keep pus.h.i.+ng!”

”Okay, stop now,” Andy said. ”You want to take a look, Gramma?”

Scrubbing the tears off her cheeks, Susan scooted down to where Andy was positioned, between Amy's legs. ”Oh,” she breathed. ”Oh, Amy. There she is. Or he! Oh,” she said. ”Honey, you're going to have a baby!”

”I know that, Mom!” Amy shouted. ”Get back here and hold my arms!”

Susan scooted back up to position herself by Amy's head again. But she bent her face down to Amy's ear. ”It's beautiful, honey,” she whispered.

”I don't care if it's beautiful!” Amy shouted. ”Get it out of me!”

”Want to see?” Andy asked Peter.

”No thanks,” said Peter.

”Okay then, Amy,” said Andy. ”Next push, I want the head out. But not too fast. I don't want you to tear.”

”Scissors?” Barb asked.

”Not yet,” said Andy.

”You really should see it, Peter,” said Susan.

”Oh!” cried Amy. ”It's half in and half out!”

”Not quite yet,” said Andy calmly. ”But we're getting close.”

”Just take a peek,” Susan urged Peter.

”Mom! Shut up!” Amy screamed. She began to pant, and Susan, Peter, and Don took up their counterpoint positions again, and Amy took a deep breath, and for Peter it seemed as though Amy was trying to pull them all into her heart. She folded and squeezed and grunted, and suddenly Andy shouted, ”The head's out! Now hold! Don't push anymore! Suction!” and Barb handed him a little blue bulb, and Peter couldn't see what Andy was doing with it and didn't really want to see.

”I can't hold it!” Amy cried.

Andy said, ”You have to! Just pant!” Peter, who suddenly felt more like part of any team than he'd ever felt in his entire life, relayed this command to Amy and told her again to pant, and he was amazed when she followed his command. Her eyes were wild with fear now, and she seemed completely dependent on his instructions. ”Pant!” he kept telling her, over and over, and when this contraction had ended and Amy was still looking terrified, he thought, What an awful, awful thing, to have a baby half in and half out of you!

”It's okay!” he whispered to her. ”I think you're almost there.”

”One more push, Amy,” said Andy.

”Oh!” sobbed Amy. ”I can't I can't I can't,” but then she drew in the longest, deepest breath she'd yet taken and squeezed so hard that Peter couldn't look at her face for fear that something would pop, and then-just like that-this thing thing torpedoed out from between her legs, this blue-gray seal with a rubbery corkscrew tail, shooting out so fast that Andy almost failed to catch it. But he did catch it, and the next thing Peter knew, Andy was cradling the waxy limp thing in his hands. It was a boy, and it was still and lifeless, alien and quiet, and what was first and foremost on Peter's mind had nothing to do with the miracle of birth but rather who in this group was going to have the courage to tell Amy that her baby was dead. torpedoed out from between her legs, this blue-gray seal with a rubbery corkscrew tail, shooting out so fast that Andy almost failed to catch it. But he did catch it, and the next thing Peter knew, Andy was cradling the waxy limp thing in his hands. It was a boy, and it was still and lifeless, alien and quiet, and what was first and foremost on Peter's mind had nothing to do with the miracle of birth but rather who in this group was going to have the courage to tell Amy that her baby was dead.

Andy laid the baby on his side across his lap. He worked quickly and with both hands at once, suctioning the baby's nose and mouth and vigorously toweling him dry.

”He's not crying,” said Amy.

Andy said something under his breath.

”What's happening?” said Amy, looking from Susan to Peter. ”Somebody tell me what's happening!”

Peter knew that the right thing to do at the moment would be to give Amy a running narrative of what he could see, since she was lying flat on her back and her stomach was still just as big as it was before the baby came out. But all he saw was Andy rubbing the baby so hard that it looked like he might be giving the baby a flesh burn.

”Just look at those b.a.l.l.s,” Lloyd announced, peering over.

”Why isn't he crying?” Peter whispered to Don.

”Like you think I can't hear?” Amy screamed. ”Why isn't the baby crying!”

Just then there came a faint trebly sound, a feeble little wail that seemed to string its way from ear to ear among those in the group. And then it came again, louder now, and a cheer erupted. The baby's skin flushed pink, and moments later, with a big smile, Andy reached over and placed him on Amy's stomach.

Amy looked stunned. ”Do I touch him?”

Andy laughed. ”Of course.”

Amy s.h.i.+fted, and Peter had the good sense to help her partially sit up so she could hold the baby. He had done a pretty good job of not looking at Amy's b.r.e.a.s.t.s during this whole ordeal, but he could not help but look now as Amy cradled the baby. He had never seen b.r.e.a.s.t.s that big before. Nor had he ever felt so free to stare.

Susan bent down so that she was cheek to cheek with Amy. ”A boy, honey,” she said. ”A baby boy.”

Amy, still in a daze, stroked the baby's hand with her pinkie, and the baby grasped it. Peter sat back. He felt frayed and raw, exhausted and exhilarated, even a little proud of himself for his role in the birth.