“Good. Is there anything you need? Anything I can do for you?”
“I wouldn’t say no to some water, I think.”
“Okay, let me grab that for you. You sure you’ll be alright?”
“James, I’m in premature labor, not a war zone. I’ll be okay for a few minutes.”
He still didn’t look quite sure, but he nodded anyways and headed out. The few seconds alone gave me a chance to breathe and figure out how I really felt.
I was terrified. I was well aware that this could definitely endanger the life of my child. The thought that I could have put so much time, and hopes, and dreams into this baby only to never meet them was bone-chilling, and just thinking abut it made my heart pound ridiculously hard.
No wonder they had to give me medicine to calm me down. Even with its effects I felt like I was going to burst under the pressure of it all.
“So, I hear we’re having a baby!”
I looked to the door to see the same doctor that had diagnosed me standing there, looking cheerful considering the situation.
“That’s the hope,” I answered, trying to sound just as chipper but mostly sounding insane to myself.
“Great, how far apart are the contractions?”
“I’m not sure,” I answered, pushing myself up higher on the bed. “James had been keeping track. Time goes funny when a watermelon is trying to push itself out of your body.”
“Yeah, I imagine. And where is Mr. Hines? He’s the tall man in the suit, if I recall correctly.”
“You do,” I wheezed, my middle pinching again. “He’s going to get me water but you’re just in time for another round.”
“Another round of wh-”
Before he could finish the question, I was moaning again and sweat was starting to bead on my brow. Man, James had just wiped my face and I could already feel myself becoming grody again. Why did pregnancy have to be so gross? Why couldn’t the baby just slide out of me and we could have a grand ol’ time naming it and taking thousand of pictures to remember the moment in? That would certainly be nice.
“Ah, I see. Well, if you want to put your leg’s up in the stirrups, I’ll check how dilated you are and we can see what the best course of action is.”
“Sure,” I groaned between the short breaths that I had been taught. “But I’m going to need a little help.”
“Of course. The nurses should be here any second. I asked them to grab a couple things in case your baby decided that they’d prefer the accelerated course for being born.”
“You’re hilarious, really.”
“Thank you. My mother always told me so.” The doctor gave me a wink and that actually did make me chuckle, but the mirth was quickly forgotten as my abdomen bore down again.
True to his word, the nurses came in just before James did, helping me scoot down the bed and get my ankles up into the stirrups. It felt alarmingly similar to some sort of medieval torturing device, but I kept my opinions to myself.
Mostly because I was panting too hard to speak.
The nurses put up some sort of modesty panel and I wondered whose modesty they were protecting. The only people present were the doctor, who’s fingers were already heading towards my vagina, the man who had gotten me knocked up in the first place, and two nurses who had probably been through the same thing. It was pretty much guaranteed that everyone present was going to see a whole bunch of my nether regions and what was going to come out of it.
I flinched as the doctor’s finger poked at me and I let out a yelp. It was less than pleasant, but thankfully it was over soon.
James stood there, shocked. I realized that with taking care of me, he probably hadn’t had much time to research what this part was going to be like. Well, at least he was in for as much as a ride as I was. Looking to him, I reached out, and he grabbed my hand almost instantly. No matter what happened, I would get through this. James might have been my soon-to-be-ex-husband, but he was also my best friend.
Chapter Thirty-Five
~James~
I couldn’t believe it.
I could not believe it. I was standing in the middle of Nicole’s room like a complete and utter dingus because she was about to give birth right in front of me.
Okay, maybe not about to, the doctor hadn’t even announced how dilated she was yet, but it certainly had to be coming soon. Judging by how close her contractions were, the baby could be anywhere from an hour to a half-day away.
I was never going to forget that scene when I nearly slid into the bathroom of her apartment. She was standing there, face red, hair askew and a look of such undiluted terror on her face that for a moment I had been afraid she was having a heart attack. But then the reality of the situation clicked when I saw the puddle of water at her feet and suddenly I was thrown into the plans that we had written up, but thought weren’t going to be used for another month or two.