SHITBAG
I pushed for an hour and a half, my knees pulled as close to my shoulders as possible. There was too much inside that needed out. The intern counted from ten to zero, too slowly, from the top of each contraction to the end of it: 10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1. Each time, as I released my breath, he poked two of his fingers inside my vagina to probe for the baby's head, triggering me to puke more than once as he breached that border between a child's readiness for life and the pain of bringing it. Later, my obstetrician breezed in, threw one of
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