The New One ➳ The Selection trilogy sequel [discontinued]

» Chapter Four

America's Point of View

I cry out in pain as numbness envelopes me, shaking my body and blocking my thoughts. I keep a vise-like hold on the side of the bed with my left hand while my right hand locks Maxon's wrist in a death grip so hard I'm afraid that I'm blocking his circulation.

The midwife's face is as pale as a sheet, and Maxon is just looking looking at me and opening and closing his mouth without really saying anything. Pain sears through my birth canal, and tears start streaming freely down my cheeks.

Kill me now.

Despite looking as if this ordeal will be the death of her, the midwife maintains a steady and eerily calm tone as she speaks. "Push!" she shouts, and I send all of the strength in my frail body to descend to my birth canal. Imagine this: you're in the bathroom, on the toilet. You've been there 5 minutes, but the waste in your buttocks won't plop out. Push your stomach out. Exert effort. Breathe heavily. And - push! I try to do all of this. I practice what I do when discarding waste in my body - or, in unsophisticated terms, pooping. Instead of putting all of my strength in my buttocks, though, I will my power and strength and all possible energy to go down to my birth canal. Imagine clumped-up pee the size of a slightly-smaller-than-a-regular-watermelon.

Blood is flowing out of my birth canal, and I scream out in pain. "PUSH!" the midwife yells, and I push even harder, and I scream again. The pain is causing big, purple spots to float around in my vision and some magical imaginary man has teleported inside my head, pounding it with a 20-pound mallet.

My life is pure agony.

I push harder and feel the top of something poke out of my birth canal.

What the hell? Is that how babies normally come out?

I squeeze Maxon's hand harder, and I see him wince in pain from the corner of my eye, and as much as I pity him (I have a very firm grip), I can't bring myself to even so much as mouth 'sorry' to him. The pain is overwhelming, and the tears are still waterfalls, drenching my clothes.

I push more, screaming in agony, and through my blurred and spotty vision, I see the midwife take hold of something near my birth canal, and somewhere inside of me, a flicker of hope appears. "Push!" the midwife yells, and with all the strength in my body, I scream and push the baby as hard as I can - and I swear I can feel my life force draining away.

I shut my eyes and grip Maxon's hand even tighter as I continue to push and push the baby out. Blood continuously flows out, and I feel dizzy and sick. A big, ugly feeling in my stomach starts pushing down the rising hope inside of me that gets bigger and bigger as I continue pushing and feeling a figure slowly push out of me.

I open my eyes a bit so that I allow myself a sliver of vision, and through that slit of sight I see Maxon, who's still by my bed, holding my hand, conversing with a man clad in white suits and who's wearing glasses. "Maxon." I stammer, each word ripping my throat raw. He stops talking to look at me. "Yes, America?" "When... when will this all be over?" As childish as it seems, that question is sincere. When will all of this pain, this work, be over? When will it all boil down to the point where I just get to cradle my hard-earned child in my arms and weep, praising the good Lord for this beautiful child in my arms?

"PUSH!" the midwife screams, and I cry out, breaking myself out of my stupor as pain washes over me, spots swimming in my eyes. "I can't - do this anymore," I gasp, tears pooling in my eyes as the pain reaches boiling point, the point where it's impossible not to wish you could just die. "One more, Mer! One more and I swear this'll all be over. One more - for me. For us." Maxon pleads, squeezing my hand. "Come on, America. Please. One, two, three.."

I heave a deep breath - deeper than any other breath I've ever breathed in my entire life. Then I let it all out, screaming as I exert all effort and force I have left.

Then I hear a wail pierce the air - the first cry of my child, and it is undoubtedly the most beautiful sound I have ever heard in my entire life. I can't help it - tears run down my cheeks, and I cry - I cry in joy and in relief and in disbelief.

"We did this together. We made this together. And I couldn't love anything more in the whole world." I look up, and Maxon is standing, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He kisses my head as the midwife hands our child to us, happiness glowing in her eyes. "It's a girl!" she says proudly as I take my child into my arms.

I look up at Maxon and grin - a grin full of joy and relief and hope for the future. "Our little girl." I say softly. "Our Maxine."

FINALLY! THE CHILD HAS BEEN BOOOORN! 

A huge shoutout to all of those readers who have stuck by our side during all of those ups and downs - the ups being Maxon and America's child and romance, and the downs being all of the times we delayed updating. Thank you for all of your support! We never thought we'd reach 3k reads on this one! 

Updates next week! The next chapter will be very short - we can't even guarantee it will reach two pages! No spoilers on what's it about, though I'm sure many of you know already ;) 

xoxo,

Wendy & Riley