Isabel's hand clamped down on mine, squeezing it like a vice. As my bones were crushed and permanently bruised, I lightly trailed my fingers of my other hand across Isabel's forehead, brushing her hair back from her sweaty hairline. Every muscle in her body strained and tensed, and I winced as the tendons stuck out on her neck. As petty as it was compared to what was happening, I briefly thought again how happy I was that I wasn't responsible for inducing this much pain in Isabel, grateful that we were gay. A minute later, her death grip loosened slightly as she slowly relaxed marginally, panting, her contraction subsiding for the moment.
“You’re doing amazing, Izzie.” I murmured, and kissed her hand softly. She looked up into my eyes, searching for the promise it would get better, her eyes wide with desperation.
“Almost there, Isabel, come on, on three okay?” The doctor encouraged.
“I don't want to Hailey, it hurts, Hailey make it stop.” Isabel whimpered, her voice rough and her face shiny with sweat.
“You're gonna be just fine hon, I promise. Almost there, baby girl, almost there.” I said softly in her ear, lovingly stroking her shoulder, wishing desperately I could do more to help Isabel.
Just over half an hour later, I lay beside Isabel in the narrow, uncomfortable hospital bed. She was already asleep, her head resting in the curve of my neck. I was just dozing off, my arms around my lovely wife, our little boy a few feet away.
El Fin.
