They laughed, and the tension lifted a little.
She pushed with three more contractions before the baby’s head came out.
The cord was wrapped around its neck.
“Hannah, I need you to try not to push and just pant for a few breaths,” I said steadily.
My fingers worked to unloop it, but it was double wound and wrapped too tight. I couldn’t reduce it.
The double loop around the neck had shortened the cord. I couldn’t see what was going on inside or how much slack we had, but if it was short enough, when the baby came out the cord would pull tight like a noose cutting off the oxygen supply to the baby. I might not be able to get it off in time or clamp and cut it safely before delivery, especially without my medical instruments.
I needed to use a somersault maneuver to deliver the baby. I would have to push the baby’s head toward Hannah’s thigh instead of pulling the baby straight down. It would let the shoulders and the rest of the body be born in a somersault and keep the neck near the birth canal so that the cord wouldn’t be stretched and further tightened.
All of this moved through my brain in a split second of calm. Years of experience and training and instinct took over. I had no monitors or nurses. I didn’t even have heel rests. But I knew what to do.
I made confident eye contact with Hannah. “We’re pushing one last time and we’re going to make it a good one.”
I started my countdown. My fingers angled the baby’s shoulders expertly, and then in a rush of fluid and blood, I pivoted the baby into a perfect somersault delivery.
It was a girl. And my instincts had been right. The cord had just enough slack for the somersault. Not enough if I’d let her come straight out—and if I hadn’t been here, that’s how she would have come. Especially if Hannah wouldn’t let Doug help her.
The cord would have pulled taut, and they might not have gotten it off in time. The baby could have had brain damage. Cerebral palsy, epilepsy, intellectual or developmental disabilities. She might have died.
But she didn’t because I was here.
This is why I did what I did.
In moments like this I knew I was doing what I was meant to do. Moments like this made me know that no matter what Dad said, there was honor in my specialty—even if there wasn’t glory.
I quickly unwrapped the cord from the neck and placed the baby on Hannah’s belly and started rubbing the baby’s back. She cried. A good, strong cry.
I smiled. “Meet Lily.”
The ambulance showed up fifteen minutes later. I got the medics up to speed and handed off the patient. When I came out of the room, the whole town was no longer on the lawn—they were in the living room. Daniel stood when he saw me, and everyone looked at me expectantly.
I smiled and put my hands up. “It’s a girl.”
The whole house erupted into cheering. I got hugs from about three dozen people before Daniel saved me.
He hustled me into a corner and slipped his arms around my waist, beaming down at me. “So you don’t know how to peel potatoes, but you can deliver a baby?”
“What, like it’s hard?”
He laughed and kissed me. And I didn’t care that he did it in front of everyone either.
Hannah came out on a stretcher with a beaming Emelia next to her, and as soon as they were gone, the weirdest thing happened. The houseguests didn’t leave. They mobilized. They poured into the bedroom and started stripping the bed, there was someone emptying the dishwasher, someone turned on a vacuum. The smell of Windex and Pine-Sol drifted up around us. The front door was still open, and I could see half a dozen people outside pulling weeds and mowing the lawn. Person after person streamed in with foil-covered casserole dishes, and someone was stationed in the kitchen, receiving them and putting them into the freezer.
“What are they doing?” I asked, looking around at the activity.
“They’re doing what we do,” Daniel said. “We take care of each other.”
Something about it made me feel a little emotional. This was more than just a handful of their closest friends. This was a whole town. The whole town was here.
This wasn’t just a community. This was a family.
Popeye shuffled up to us, holding a toolbox. Even he was helping.
“Hi. How you feeling?” I asked.
He looked at me with one eye squeezed shut. “Nifty coincidence you’re here, wouldn’t ya say?”
He didn’t wait for me to answer. He gave Daniel a knowing nod and then hobbled off toward the garage, mumbling to himself.
“What was that about?” I asked, looking up at Daniel.