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Gazing over the top of my phone as I opened the emails that had been sent to me in the last few hours, the revelation hit hard. There wasn’t a place on earth where I’d rather be than with my son and his mother. Until we figured our shit out, I’d be sure to remind her every chance I got.
EIGHT
The gut-wrenchingpain that soared through me, landing right at my center was to be mistaken for nothing other than contractions. I leaned over, feeling around in the darkness to locate the lamp switch. After finally producing light, I surveyed my surroundings, quickly analyzing the situation.
The wetness that puddled beneath me was evidence that my amniotic sac had ruptured, and my predictions were correct. Though I wasn’t actively laboring the previous day, the random pains I felt every other hour, as well as the tenderness in my vagina were signs that my body was preparing itself for birth. I’d witnessed the process far too many times during my career as an OB.
I reached for my phone but found it extremely difficult to stretch the distance required. Another pain soared through me, causing my entire body to stiffen. I took long, deep breaths, clenching my butt cheeks until it finally subsided. There was no doubt in my mind that my son was coming and it wouldn’t be long before he arrived. How I’d seemingly slept through the first half of my labor process was baffling but it also revealed the true strength of a woman in the hours of birth. Our bodies were incredible.
Managing to retrieve my phone, I dialed Milo’s number. As the phone began to ring, I tossed the covers back and slid out of bed. I pressed it against my shoulder and began pulling the covers back. The leak-proof mattress pad I’d added proved to be beneficial. Upon snatching it off, I noticed there wasn’t a drop of fluid in sight.
It wasn’t until I heard Milo’s voicemail that I realized I was still holding the phone up to my ear. I ended the call without leaving a message and redialed it. As I piled my linen in the corner of my bedroom, the phone continued to ring, eventually rolling over to voicemail again.
Frustration grew from the pit of my stomach. Another contraction claimed my mind and body as I leaned forward, fully expecting the wall to alleviate the weight that accompanied the contractions. If not physical, it was definitely a mental gain that I couldn’t quite pinpoint. The heaviness was unfamiliar and it was anchoring.
My contractions were powerful and they were not very far apart. With my phone in my hand, I wobbled toward the room where I’d been preparing for Mason’s birth. Throughout the course of my pregnancy, I’d been seeing Marcie, but the chances of her delivering my child were always slim. My birth plan had been made early in my pregnancy and was tailored to a home birth, a method I’d admired since I was a teen. Witnessing my first home birth was the deciding factor for my career choice.
As motion was detected, the light of the bedroom glowed, lighting the entire space. The oversized tub in the bathroom was the reason I’d chosen this room in particular. On my way inside, I called Milo a third time. To my dismay, I was greeted by the voicemail again.
Are you fucking serious, Milo?I pondered.
Instead of continuing to dial his number in vain, I made a call to the next best person on my contact list. Shayla answered on the second ring, voice riddled with sleep.
“Hello. Nature. Are you okay?”
“Yes. The baby is coming and I can’t get ahold of Milo.”
“I’m on my way.”
She ended the call, immediately. The key to my home that Shayla hadn’t had the chance to use since I’d moved in would finally be put to use. By the time she arrived, I doubted I’d be able to manage the lengthy distance required to open the door.
Another contraction forced me down onto the edge of the bathtub where I gripped my knees, praying this one didn’t last as long as the one before it. However, I understood that was simply asking too much. It didn’t release me for almost a full forty-five seconds.
“Shiiiiiiiiiit.”
Once I was finally able to move again, I started the water that I’d spend the next thirty minutes to an hour in. With the intensity and closeness of my contractions, that was all the time I’d have to bring my son earth side. Warm water speckled my skin as it hit the bottom of the tub.
I opened the tab that displayed Shayla’s location and discovered she was only five miles from my home. She’d be pulling up within the next ten minutes. Though it wasn’t her support that I was banking on, it would suffice for the moment. Dwelling on Milo’s absence would only make matters worse and possibly affect the trajectory of my son’s birth. Our health wasn’t worth the risk.
Contractions hit one after the other, giving me little time to regain my composure between them. The satisfaction of the water level prompted me to twist the nob until it halted the flow. I stripped out of my soiled gown and slid into the warm water, hoping for comfort. With the hair tie on my wrist, I pulled my curls into a ponytail and rested my head against the back of the tub.
Just as I closed my eyes, bracing for the build of the contraction that began, I heard Shayla’s voice, calling out to me.
“I-I’m… in here.” Weakly, I yelled.
However, I was aware that my efforts might’ve gone unnoticed. The low, wimpy voice I’d exercised probably hadn’t made it past the guest bathroom where I was suffering through another vaginal-splitting contraction.
“Here you are.”
Despite my assumptions, Shayla found me, immediately removing her slides and pinning her hair up. She wasted little time sanitizing her feet and legs before climbing into the tub and resting her bottom on the edge. Even through the pain, I couldn’t hold back the laughter that was a result of her seriousness. One would think that she was the OB and I was the therapist.
“What?”
“Ouch,” I groaned, unable to stop laughing.
“What? What’s so funny, Nature?”
“I just… You look so serious. Please, lighten up.”
