311 Pelican Court - Debbie Macomber [12]
Jon was in the driver’s seat beside her when she opened her eyes again.
“You okay?” he asked.
He’d gone pale, she noticed. She attempted to reassure him with a smile.
Later, Maryellen remembered almost nothing about the ride from Cedar Cove into Silverdale and the birthing center. Jon didn’t speak, and she didn’t, either, concentrating on the breathing techniques she’d learned while he drove, expertly weaving through traffic.
When they arrived at the center, there seemed to be all kinds of activity going on around her. She was stripped, prepped, helped into bed and had a fetal monitor attached. Jon disappeared, and she wondered if he’d dropped her off and then left again. She supposed that made sense, since she’d clearly called him in the middle of his shift.
Then she was alone in a comfortable room with every modern device to distract her from the pain. There was soft music and a television with VCR should she care to watch, but none of that interested her.
The contractions were far more intense than anyone could have warned her. She mentally counted the seconds as each contraction came over her, working its way from her back to her front, tightening her belly.
“Maryellen?” Jon’s voice was low.
Her eyes flew open and she found him standing in the doorway. Her relief and gratitude were instantaneous. Propping herself up on one elbow, she asked hopefully, “Can you stay?”
“If that’s what you want.”
She did. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how much she wanted him with her, how much she needed him. Not just anyone. Him.
Coming all the way into the room, he sat on the chair by her side and studied the monitor as it recorded her labor. Although he hadn’t attended a single birthing class, he seemed to know exactly what to say and do to comfort her. When she moved onto her side, he rubbed her back and whispered reassurances. His voice was encouraging as he repeatedly told her what a good job she was doing.
The length and intensity of the contractions continued, and in the middle of one that lasted almost a minute—the longest minute of her life—the pain overwhelmed her. She whimpered softly.
“Do something!” Jon demanded of the nurse who happened to step into the room just then. “She can’t take this pain.”
The woman smiled benevolently. “Maryellen has opted for a natural birth. We’re simply respecting her wishes.”
“I’m okay,” Maryellen said, but she wondered how long she could hold out. “Would it be all right if I held your hand?”
Jon was on his feet and leaning toward her. He braced his elbow against the bed and offered her his hand. From that moment on, she clung to him. When it was time to bear down, Jon was with her, his head close to her own, his arm around her shoulders. Dr. Abner arrived, and that assured her it wouldn’t be much longer.
Jon introduced himself and then in a low, soothing voice, continued to offer Maryellen encouragement and support. Leaning against him, she strained, pushing this child from her body and panting wildly between pains.
With the next contraction she gripped Jon’s hand and pushed, groaning with the effort. Sweat poured off her. Then all at once, her daughter slipped free. Maryellen gasped as she heard Catherine Grace’s fragile cry.
Pride and love filled Maryellen and her eyes brimmed with tears. She smiled tremulously at Jon and was surprised to see that he, too, had tears rolling down his cheeks.
“Welcome, Katie,” she whispered.
Jon looked at her. “Katie, not Catherine?”
Maryellen nodded. She’d gotten in the habit of calling her daughter that. “Catherine seems a bit of a mouthful for such a tiny baby, don’t you think?” Katie was his mother’s name, too, and Maryellen wanted to do that for him—to honor the mother he’d obviously loved.
Jon studied their child’s red face, contorted by angry cries. “Thank you,” he whispered, and his arm tightened around her shoulders. Dr. Abner handed their wailing daughter to the nurse.
“You can come with