The Fleury Life

About a week and a half passed and Marc had to go up to Quebec in order to get some things in order up there with our summer home, since we obviously haven’t been up there. In the meantime, Tanger has been my housemate, and I’m seriously considering making him a permanent member of the house. He cooks, he cleans and he even takes the dog out. Sure, I know it’s probably only because I’m pregnant, but hey, I’m not complaining. I don’t have to do a thing.
It really helps as well because lately I’ve been so fidgety. I can’t just sit around and do nothing. I do more pacing than anything anymore. I know it’s the anxiety of having Marc away and just a couple weeks from my due date, but it doesn’t help ease the pacing. Tanger does whatever he can to distract me, but it usually doesn’t work.
Today was even worse. Kris was upstairs folding laundry and I was downstairs, pacing in the living room, not really paying any attention to the show that was on the TV. My breathing was a little faster than normal, and I was trying very hard to control it.
Until a sharp pain ripped across my midsection. I clutched the back of the sofa tightly and cringed in pain. I groaned as I leaned over the couch slightly, and then notice that there was fluid now by my feet. I looked up in shock, still clutching the coach, and tried to find my voice. “Tanger?” I called, but my voice was too quiet. “Tanger?” A little louder, but not enough for him to hear upstairs. “KRIS!”
There was a shuffle from upstairs and I could pretty much imagine him leaning over the banister upstairs. “Sierra?”
“We gotta go to the hospital. Now,” I called up to him, fighting the panic that was rising in my chest.
“What? Wh~?” There was a pause, and suddenly a whole lot of movement going on upstairs, including a few select swear words after a large bang. He ran down the stairs, long, dark hair pulled back into a pony tail with a duffle bag over his shoulder. I clutched the sofa hard again as I winced to another contraction. Kris ran around, pretty much in one panicked circle until I shot him a look and he froze in spot. “Keys?”
I pointed to the counter and he grabbed them and he grabbed my arm, before looking at me and swooping me into his arms. “Kris,” I said in surprise as he practically ran to the car and set me in the passenger's side.
As he drove, a little chaotically to which he caused me to clutch the door handle a little bit, he called my husband up in Quebec. “Uhh, man, you need to get on the first flight down here, like, now.” A pause. “Your wife is in labor.” Kris looked at me and I heard the yell from the phone from my husband. “I’m pulling up to the hospital now. So hurry up!”
Kris hung up the phone and ran like a wild man to help me out of the car, as a nurse came up with a wheelchair. He told me that Marc was going to call my parents, but I wasn’t exactly paying attention. I was in the middle of a contraction and I wanted to hurt someone. Badly.
I was taken immediately to a hospital room while Kris signed me in, and I was helped into the wonderful hospital garments and eased into a bed. After checking me out and hooking all of the necessary equipment up to me, I was told I was only about four centimeters, so I will be here for a while. I was gracious though, because that means Marc has plenty of time to get here.
Kris came into the room after a while, and I was lying on my side, staring at nothing as time slowly passed on. He pulled up a chair next to me and let me hold his hand, which probably wasn’t the smartest idea because with each contraction, I squeezed the living daylights out of his hand. He winced each time, but never complained. He’s such a good guy. He even dabbed my forehead with a wet cloth. I don’t know what I would do without this guy with Marc gone.
A couple hours later, Marc-Andre showed up and burst into the room with wide eyes. He rushed to my side and took my hand in his, kissing it lightly. “I’m here, ma chérie,” he whispered lightly.
“Good,” I said softly, looking up at him. “I missed you.”
“And I you.” He pressed a kiss to my lips as Kris got up and my husband took his spot in the chair. “Our mothers are coming, and so is your brother.”
“Oh, lovely.” I chuckled lightly, and then winced as a contraction came. I clutched his hand tightly and he stroked my long hair away from my face.
Marc looked up at Tanger, who now sat on the couch nearby. “Merci, Tanger, for everything.”
The other man smiled. “You know I’d do anything for you guys.” They grinned at each other devilishly and I couldn't help but roll my eyes at them.
More time passed, although I’m not sure how much, and suddenly the hospital room was filled with family. Both of our mothers, my brother, and Marc’s sister were all here passing on their support. I was told then that it was well passed midnight, marking it July 7th, and I’ve been in labor for hours and recently the pain has been getting a lot worse and much closer together.
After spending over an hour with us in the hospital room, everyone but Marc and my mom was kicked out of the room as I shrieked in pain. I had the epidural, but it wasn’t really helping very much.
It was time.
With my husband on one side and my mom on the other, I pushed with all my might. At one point about ten minutes in, I started shouting some profanities at the overwhelming pain. There is absolutely nothing that can compare to this pain.
I may have said some things to my husband along the lines of, “this is your fault! You and your ‘little swimmers’! I’m going to kill you!” He just smiled through them and kept holding my hand because he knew it was just the pain talking. Although my mom found it very hilarious, for she started laughing.
Then finally, after eight hours of labor and multiple cuss words, Luc Fleury was born at 2:29 a.m with a weight of 7.3 lbs and a height of 18 inches.
After the final push, I leaned heavily back into the pillows and panted heavily as both my mom and my husband looked at the newborn expectantly. There was no cry, so I looked up nervously with a slight panicked look, but the moment I looked at my son, a loud cry came from such tiny vocals and I laughed as if I was on a high. But I felt like I was because I was watching my newborn son, now dressed in a onesie and wrapped in a baby blue blanket, being passed to Marc-Andre, who had tears in his eyes.
He mumbled gentle words to our son before looking up and meeting my eyes, with the widest, happiest grin I have ever seen on his face. He walked over and I immediately held out my arms, and my son was placed in my arms.
As I looked down at his face, I burst into tears. “He’s perfect. He’s so perfect,” I sobbed, tracing his itty bitty little nose with my index finger. “So perfect.” He had Marc’s nose- the French nose.
“He has yours eyes,” Marc said softly, sitting next to me on the bed and wrapped one arm around my shoulders, his other hand stroking Luc’s little peach fuzzed head. “He’s so beautiful.” He pressed a kiss onto my head as we both looked at our child. Our perfect child.
My mom left the room, and came back with our entire group. They all ooed and awed over the little bundle in my arms, and Sidney even pressed a kiss to his forehead while setting a giant stuffed bunny next to me as a gift to Luc that was pretty similar to the bunnies we got when we were born, but it was the look in Kris’ eyes that made my heart melt. He was staring at Luc with so much love, but also a hint of sadness because I knew he wished his best friend was here as well. But I knew, just from looking at him, that even though my baby was named Luc, that Kris’ memories with his best friend would not come between him and baby Luc. He was going to be one awesome uncle/God-father, just like Sidney.
“Come here,” I said to Kris.
He looked at me curiously.
“Come here, God-daddy number two.”
Kris hesitantly stepped forward, looking at Sid who stepped away with a smile, and I gently put Luc in his arms. He cuddled my baby close, looking down with so much aw. “He’s like a perfect mix of you two,” he mumbled more to himself than anyone else.
“Now, if something were to happen, you, you and you,” I nodded to Kris, Sid and Marylene in turn, “are in charge of making sure he grows up to be the best man he can be.”
“You know we will,” Sid said with a smile that mirrored mine.
A nurse came in and said that it was best if everyone left because it was so late and both me and the baby needed to sleep. I was ready to pass out, so I was kinda glad everyone was kicked out. Kris handed Luc to Marc, who cuddled our son close to his chest, and everyone left. My mom and Marc’s mom, France, were going to go make sure everything was ready at home. Sid and Kris were the last to leave. Sid kissed my goodbye, and Kris waved as he followed my brother out of the room, leaving Marc-Andre and I with our son.
“I don’t think I could be any happier,” Marc said, looking down at Luc.
“Me too.” I looked at my husband and he grinned widely, leaning down while holding Luc close to him, and pressed a deep, long, loving kiss to my lips. As he pulled away, and we both looked down at Luc’s large eyes, I smiled. “Me too.”