I’m in transition for almost an hour, the contractions hard and constant. At one point they put me on oxygen because I’m hyperventilating from not remembering to breathe between screams. Then I start to feel the intense pressure of needing to push, which I do for almost forty minutes before the searing pain of my first baby’s head stretching my formerly tight hole hits me. It’s a looooong crowning, followed by stubborn shoulders that spread me so wide I could swear my pelvis is breaking.
Like a turtle on its back, Jensen was stuck on the floor. He’d squatted down to pick something up, was thrown off balance by their huge monstrosity of a dog, Harley, and when he tried to catch himself, his hand slipped on the tile. Jensen ended up flat on his back on the floor with Harley licking his face. If he really wanted to try, Jensen was sure he could get up, but decided just to lay there instead, just for a few moments until he could muster enough energy to pull himself up. Two minutes turned into twenty and Jensen was still lying on the floor weighing the pros and cons of staying there and waiting for Jared to find him, or attempting to try now to get up.
He screamed bloody murder, unaware of any coherent words coming out of his mouth or the work his body was unconsciously doing, until he felt a sharp pop. He heard Jason telling him the head was out but didn’t have time to react before the shoulders were forcing their way into the world as well and it took all of his strength not to pass out on the spot.