Chapter 1: Chapter 1
Just off the I-10, east of Tucson, Arizona, an oasis of traditional adobe structures nestled amongst the stark cacti landscape caught my attention. One small clinic stood out like a time capsule from the 1800s, its faded terracotta walls and sun-bleached windows contrasting with the cacti arrayed like ancient soldiers around it.
I must've been out of my mind driving through this sparse landscape looking for an adobe clinic, a breech baby kicking my bladder like a breakdancer in a contest.
Yet, as I pulled into the small lot, I couldn't help but feel intrigued.
The faded sign read "Jorge Gonzalez, Midwife." I hesitated, still unsure, until my desire to deliver this baby naturally outweighed my skepticism. And by natural, I mean using unconventional methods to induce labor.
Fumbling through the cracked wooden door, I stepped inside, greeted by the aroma of burning herbs and the warmth of disarrayed rooms.
Charming chaos abounded within these clay walls, a stark contrast against the sterile hospitals I'd grown accustomed to.
"Hello?" I called out, the word hanging in the air. A cat meowed softly, weaving through my legs, causing a nervous laugh to escape me. "Yeah, I know how you feel."
Somewhat startled, I jumped as a dark-haired, brown-eyed Adonis made his entrance. Jorge Gonzalez would put every cover model on Men's Health to shame.
Tanned, tall, and positively sculpted with just a hint of a five o'clock shadow, he was every pregnant woman's dream, offering a comforting this-will-all-be-over-soon grin.
"Señorita Martinez," Jorge started, looking me up and down. I reflexively crossed my arms over my swollen belly, remembering too late my awkward figure.
"Ms. Martinez, please," I corrected softly, awkwardness evaporating.
"And you have me at a disadvantage."
He gazed at me with those warm eyes, my anxiety dissolving like sugar in hot water. "Ah, of course! I can be a bit forgetful. I am Jorge Gonzalez, a midwife, but I suspect you know that part." He chuckled, unknowingly charming me. "And you are carrying a little one who wishes to arrive sooner than later."
A slight flush crept up my cheeks, but I held his gaze. "That's right. I'm hoping you have a way to help things along.
I've heard whispers about what you do here and, well, I was curious."
Wrinkles formed around Jorge's eyes, his genuine delight radiating warmth. "Ahh, so you've heard some gossip from our small community. I've been known to use natural methods to help some mothers convince their little ones to greet the world."
My curiosity deepened, the notion of an unconventional approach sparking my interest. I swallowed thickly.
"Natural methods, you say? I must admit, I'm skeptical but desperate to avoid medical intervention."
Jorge chuckled gently. "Ah, skepticism can be a good thing, especially when confronted with say, a man who promises to use sexual stimulation to bring on labor."
My eyes widened, heat flooding my cheeks. I didn't know where to look; an adobe wall, the herbs hanging above the midwifery table, a shriveled, dust-covered cactus in the corner.
Anywhere but those knowing, warm eyes of Jorge's.
He cleared his throat, obviously amused by my embarrassment. "Please, do not be afraid or uneasy. I understand this concept may be foreign and perhaps a bit unsettling to you. But I assure you, I have spent many years honing this craft, and I have helped bring countless little ones into the world through this method."
A hesitant grin tugged at the corner of my lips, slowly inching toward my cheeks. "Oh, wow.
I, uh, I wasn't expecting that, Jorge," I stammered, choking a little on the words.
His gentle chuckle filled the room, easing my embarrassment. "I can see that, Kelli. However, I assure you that there is much science and wisdom behind what I am suggesting. Sexual stimulation has been known to induce labor, as the hormone oxytocin is released, which in turn can cause contractions.
"Do you like sex Ms. Martinez?" he said with a charming grin.
"Well, Jorge, I appreciate the honesty, but that's not exactly the kind of introduction I was expecting from a midwife," I admitted, trying to keep my tone light-hearted.
Jorge threw his head back and laughed, the deep baritone sound echoing through the small clinic. "Of course, of course. I can see why that might be surprising, but I promise you, it's all about the science. The oxytocin released during sexual arousal can be very effective at jumpstarting labor.
If you feel comfortable, I can guide you through a few techniques to increase your chances of success."
My cheeks burned brighter, the atmosphere between Jorge and me growing thick with intensity. It suddenly dawned on me how unusually comfortable I was with him, and my situation.
This was not the typical doctor's office visit. I was a woman in her late twenties, pregnant from a one-night stand, proprietary about my body, and curious about ancient midwifery techniques.
"Do you want me to go over the ground rules?" Jorge asked.
I knew what he meant: boundary-setting for this unexpected and unconventional session.
His eyes met mine, and he spoke with kindness and sincerity, "Always remember, this is your body, and your baby. I am here to offer guidance, support, and knowledge. You set your limits, and I will work within them. The goal is not only your comfort but the safety and well-being of you and your unborn child."
Jorge finished by offering a gentle, warm smile.