Home > Books > Out of the Clear Blue Sky(167)

Out of the Clear Blue Sky(167)

Author:Kristan Higgins

“Total champion,” Isabel agreed. But they were here just in case.

“Jesus, she’s stretched out,” Brad muttered. “It doesn’t even look like a vag—”

“You’re doing great, Melissa. Nice push here,” I said as the baby’s butt emerged. The trick with breech was to let nature do the work and not pull the baby. Melissa was whimpering in pain. “Just breathe. Take a deep breath and hold it, then let it out nice and slow.” Brad was supposed to be helping with breathing, but . . .

“Nice and slow,” Ophelia repeated. “Doing great, Missy.” She looked at me and made a face of horror. Well, this would keep her from having sex too young, that was for sure.

Another contraction, a few more centimeters. It was a girl, I could see. Her legs were still tucked up, so I gently slid my finger under her left knee and bent it, and it popped out.

“Jesus!” Brad said.

“Dad, why don’t you step aside?” Isabel said as I swept the other leg out. Nice and chunky, those legs. Now Melissa had the lower half of the baby pretty much dangling out of her. “Easy, now, Melissa,” I said. “You’re amazing. Almost there. Don’t push right now . . . just let your uterus do the work. You’re doing great.”

Gently, slowly, I rotated the baby and slid one finger in to help the shoulder deliver. “Nice job,” Isabel murmured. Another slow rotation to the other side, and the other shoulder delivered smoothly. All that was left was the head.

“My baby,” Melissa said. “Oh, my God, my baby.”

“Nice size, too,” Isabel said. “You’re a hero, Melissa.”

“I am never getting pregnant,” Ophelia said.

Now was the hardest part. Because the head was the biggest part of the baby, and it was coming last, it wouldn’t be molded, the way a headfirst baby’s would after such a long labor. Melissa would need help here. “Nice big push, Melissa,” I said, and she did, full of renewed energy. When the baby’s neck and hairline appeared, I slid my forearm under the baby, positioning my index finger against her right cheek, my middle finger against her left. Then I rested my other hand on the baby’s back, my forefinger and ring finger over each shoulder, my middle finger at the base of the baby’s skull.

“I’m gonna give a tiny bit of help here,” Isabel said. “Just going to put some pressure on your belly, Melissa.” She looked down at me. “Ready?”

“Yep. Give us a nice push, Melissa! Last one!”

She pushed, keening. Isabel pressed down, and I pressed my fingers on the baby’s cheeks, angled my arms up to maneuver the head, and just like that, she was born.

“It’s a girl!” I said, putting her on Melissa’s chest.

“My baby! Oh, my God, my baby is here! Hi, baby!”

“A girl?” Brad said from somewhere behind me. “Oh, wow, babe!” I felt him move closer to me to look between Melissa’s legs. “Holy God,” he muttered, because yes, she was a little gory at the moment. She’d just given birth, and that baby was not small! “Will she ever be normal again?”

“Sir? Let’s have you sit down over here,” Jane said as he wobbled.

“I’ll clean her up,” Isabel murmured, and I stood up, my lower legs asleep from having been down there so long, and went to Melissa’s free side.

“You did it,” I said, and she lifted her shining face to look at me. “That was really something, Melissa. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Lillie,” she said. Tears were streaming down her face. “That means so much to me.”

Ophelia was looking at the baby quizzically. “Guess I’m the pretty one,” she said. “Hey, there, baby. I’m your sister.”

“What’s her name?” I asked.

“Orialis Melody Spencer Fairchild,” Melissa announced.

“Oh, God, Missy,” Ophelia said. “Orialis? It sounds like a medication.” I couldn’t help snorting.

“It goes with Ophelia,” Melissa said. “And her middle name is Melody. Yours is Harmony. Get it?”

“I get it,” Ophelia said, rolling her eyes, but she was smiling, too.

Orialis was . . . well, all babies are beautiful, right? She had very thick hair, but also a receding hairline, a hooked nose and puffy lips, and . . . well . . . hey! She’d been being squished by contractions for a day and a half. She’d pretty up.

“She looks like Nicolas Cage,” Ophelia pronounced. “And she looks like she could beat me in a fight.”