Page 112 of Songs for Libby

I shook my head. “That doesn’t mean I’m actually in labor.”

“Okay. Why don’t you go take a shower, let yourself relax. If it’s not the real deal, they’ll probably stop. If they continue, then we’ll need to think seriously about going to the hospital, all right?”

I nodded immediately. She had a plan. I liked plans. Especially ones that might stop my contractions so that I didn’t go into labor at the exact wrong moment. Because this was the exact wrong moment.

I headed upstairs, having to pause once to cling to the railing and breathe through the pressure being exerted on my abdomen.

I stayed under the spray of water for a long time, willing my body to relax.

Stupid, disobedient body.

They were stronger when I got out than when I’d gotten in. I got dressed and blow-dried my hair while sitting on the edge of the bathtub. I turned off the hairdryer and breathed for a minute with my hand braced against the wall before I could get up.

When I stepped out of my room, I hollered downstairs, “Louisa?”

“Yes?”

“I think—” I couldn’t even say it out loud.

“I’ve got your bag down here already,” she said with maternal calm.

Returning to the living room, I sat down as Louisa called Nick, and I grabbed for my phone, my thumb hovering over Sean’s name, wanting desperately to call him. I stopped myself. He was literally in the middle of his concert. He wouldn’t have his phone on him, and even if he did, I couldn’t interrupt him. Labor took a long time. Especially for a first kid. He just had a couple more hours of his concert, then he’d have to hop the first available flight back. He was playing in Chicago, so it wouldn’t be that long of a flight. I wouldn’t have to do this without him. There was no need to completely freak out yet.

Louisa hung up and then sat on the coffee table in front of me, taking my hands in hers. “It’s time to go to the hospital.”

I just breathed carefully, trying to keep my tears at bay and failing.

“I know it’s scary.”

I nodded.

“And this isn’t how you planned it.”

More tears spilled as I nodded again.

“But you can do this. I’ve got you. Okay?”

I closed my eyes, ignoring my soaked cheeks. “Jonas should be here,” I whispered.

Her hands convulsed around mine. “I know, honey. I know. But”—her eyes shimmered with tears—“you’re going to have a baby soon.”

Nick came through the front door, trying to look professional, but there was a desperate hurry in his step that told me labor and delivery were not part of his job description and he felt like he was in way over his head.

It was oddly comforting to see him unsure and afraid. It validated my own freak-out.

He didn’t say anything, just stood there looking nervous.

Louisa took control. “Up you go,” she said as she pulled me to my feet.

As I got into the car, I hoped that my contractions would magically stop and it would prove to be a false alarm, but by the time we reached the hospital, they were bad enough that I was relieved to be in close proximity to medical professionals who knew what they were doing.

The maternity ward was its own separate building. Louisa had called ahead to let them know we were coming, and they had to buzz us in once we reached the door. I wasn’t sure what the staff thought of Nick staying in the waiting room while Louisa went back with me, but I guessed they were used to having plenty of random family members come in. They probably assumed he was my brother or something.

We got settled in a room and the nurse determined that I was most definitely in labor and that things were “progressing nicely.” I managed to bite my tongue and not argue with her definition of “nice” as another contraction started at my lower abdomen, worked its way up my belly and then clamped down when it reached the top. I would probably have been impressed with the mechanics of child birth if I hadn’t been so consumed with all my worries.

Louisa rubbed my back and got me juice and reminded me to “think of the contractions as pressure instead of pain.” That helped some, and as I concentrated really hard on breathing and relaxing, I was able to get through the next two and a half hours.

Then my phone rang. Louisa picked it up to look at the screen. “It’s Sean,” she announced, the relief evident in her voice.