“Matthew can sing—and he’s loud. I’m sure he could drown you out.”
“God—blasted—it hurts,” I said, doubling over. “Move the fucking bed if you want to be helpful, but stop arguing with me, you asshole!”
My reply was met with shocked silence.
“Atta girl,” Marcus said. “I knew you had it in you. Let’s have a look.”
Matthew helped me onto the bed, which had been stripped of its priceless silk coverlet and most of its curtains. The two cradles stood in front of the fire, waiting for the twins. I stared at them while Marcus conducted his examination.
Thus far this had been the most physically intrusive four hours of my life. I’d had more things jabbed into me and more stuff taken out of me than I thought possible. It was oddly dehumanizing, considering that I was responsible for bringing new life into the world.
“Still a little while to go,” Marcus said, “but things are speeding up nicely.”
“Easy for you to say.” I would have hit him, but he was positioned between my thighs and the babies were in the way.
“This is your last chance for an epidural,” Marcus said. “If you say no, and we have to do a C section, we’ll have to knock you out completely.”
“There’s no need for you to be heroic, ma lionne,” Matthew said.
“I’m not being heroic,” I told him for the fourth or fifth time. “We have no idea what an epidural might do to the babies.” I stopped, my face scrunched in an attempt to block the pain.
“You have to keep breathing, honey,” Sarah pushed her way to my side. “You heard her, Matthew.
She isn’t taking the epidural, and there’s no point in arguing with her about it. Now, about the pain.
Laughter helps, Diana. So does focusing on something else.”
“Pleasure helps, too,” Marthe said, adjusting my feet on the mattress in such a way that my back immediately relaxed.
“Pleasure?” I said, confused. Marthe nodded. I looked at her in horror. “You can’t mean that.”
“She does,” Sarah said. “It can make a huge difference.”
“No. How can you even suggest such a thing?” I couldn’t think of a less erotically charged moment. Walking now seemed like a very good idea, and I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. That was as far as I got before another contraction seized me. When it was over, Matthew and I were alone.
“Don’t even think about it,” I said when he put his arms around me.
“I understand ‘no’ in two dozen languages.” His steadiness was annoying. “Don’t you want to yell at me or something?” I asked.
Matthew took a moment to consider. “Yes.”
“Oh.” I’d expected a song and dance about the sanctity of pregnant women and how he would put up with anything for me. I giggled.
“Lie on your left side and I’ll rub your back.” Matthew pulled me down next to him.
“That’s the only thing you’re going to rub,” I warned.
“So I understand,” he said with more aggravating control. “Lie down. Now.”
“That sounds more like you. I was beginning to think they’d given you the epidural by mistake.” I turned and fitted my body into his.
“Witch,” he said, nipping me on the shoulder.
It was a good thing I was lying down when the next contraction hit.
“We don’t want you to push, because there’s no telling how long this will take and the babies aren’t ready to be born yet. It’s been four hours and eighteen minutes since the contractions started. There could be another day of this ahead of you. You need to rest. That’s one reason I wanted you to have the nerve blocker.” Matthew used his thumbs to massage the small of my back.