The Guard To My Sanctuary

Chapter 36

Elm

It was time, and I was equal parts excited and scared shitless about having my C-section. I felt my useless cervix contract and let out a scream just as we pulled in front of the emergency room. Luckily, Dr. Nussbaum was there waiting for me because I was definitely not in the mood to be patient. He had a big smile and wore powder blue surgical scrubs. He had been training on a three-dimensional model of my body, so he was primed for the process.

"Now, boys, I need you to be patient with Daddy. I'm a little anxious, and you guys fighting over who's coming out first isn't helping. I promise that you all will be out soon enough. This is your first life lesson: waiting for your turn."

Marco exited the car in a hurry, his smile holding excitement and anxiety, as it should for the occasion. He talked to Dr. Nussbaum, who had his nurses next to him. I felt terrible; I might have ruined their night plans. Farrah had her loose, beachy waves pulled back in a haphazard bun, and the two men were yawning. Her makeup was matted, and her eyes looked like she had snatched her eyelashes off. Farrah walked up with the wheelchair in hand while Marco opened the door for me and helped me onto the seat. When I was sitting, I was wheeled into the building and down a hall to a small room with a bed and monitors. The next moments were filled with me stripping out of my clothes and putting the gown on, then being helped into the bed. The various pads and monitors were put on my body, and Marco held my hand while smiling down at me as if I was Jesus or something.

"So, today is the day. I'm so happy for the two of you. The first thing I'm going to do is check and make sure that you are prepared for the procedure before we go to the operating room," Dr. Nussbaum said, reading whatever was on his screen. "I want to wait an hour to get started and prepped and allow the coffee to kick in," he said, looking at his small team.

"Alrrrrrrriiiight," I said, feeling another contraction. I squeezed down on Marco's hand in pain and looked at him. "You son of a bitch, you did this to me. I ought to have my Dad shoot you in your dick. You had one job, put the damn condom on," I yelled at Marco.

"I am so sorry, Honey," he said, startled at my words.

"Calm down, I'm just messing with you. They hurt but not that bad," I said, laughing. I needed some humor to break the nerves in the back of my mind.

"That's not funny," he said, rolling his eyes at me but not letting go of my hand.

"I laughed; that's all that matters right now," I responded, then started doing my breathing exercises.

"Okay, we'll give you guys some space," the doctor said, leaving the room. The moment he exited, my Daddy entered with a smile. Cindy walked behind him, wearing a Golden State hoodie and leggings. The hoodie belonged to my Dad. She was spending the night and had nothing to change into except her suit, which was inappropriate to wear in public.

"Darling," my Dad said, kissing my forehead. "Finally going to see my grandsons," he said, smiling.

I scooted over in the bed a little and patted the open space, trying to ignore the pressure building inside of me. Marco sat down, and my Dad climbed on the bed and wrapped his arm around me. I leaned my head on his.

"You're like your mom, pretending you aren't in pain. She was so calm when she had all of you; I was convinced that meditation she had practiced was some real form of pain relief," he said, digging into his pocket. I watched as he pulled out a silver bangle reminiscent of the one my mother was wearing in my favorite picture of her.

"Is that..." I asked after the pain had passed.

"Yeah, it's one of hers. I kept them in a small box in the attic. These were the first things she bought for herself when she moved to the States. She said they symbolize her will to succeed. I want you to take one of them. I gave Alder and Cartier one, and I will give Pine one when he finally settles down with whomever since he thinks everyone is blind. You can't take it into surgery with you, but I want you to have it as a memory of your mother," he said, handing me the silver ring of metal. It was cold to the touch and somewhat dull, but it had become one of my most prized possessions. I wondered what my mom would say to me; she always had a way of making the bad days turn sunny.