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I smile and wipe my eyes.
He clears his throat and then reads, “Elsa, I promise to be your partner in all the adventures life brings us. I will cherish our moments together, whether it’s the journeys that await us in parenthood or simply watching a movie with you. I vow to be your strength in times of need and your shoulder to lean on, even with my slight limp.”
The guests chuckle and I’m full on crying now.
He wipes a tear from my eyes and looks at me with concern, and I just make a motion with my hand for him to continue.
“I promise to support your dreams. I promise to be your person, your confidante, your teammate, and your faithful husband.”
He wipes more tears from my eyes and then we exchange the rings, carried by Harvey’s niece, and become husband and wife.
I feel that stupid pain attack me again. It’s getting quicker and sharper.
What if Becca was right?
I feel butterflies in my stomach and smile despite the pain as I enjoy this special moment. I’m now Harvey’s wife. He is now my husband.
When he comes for the kiss, our lips barely touch when that same pain comes back, and suddenly there’s hot water coming down my legs.
“What’s this?” Harvey asks, looking from me to his shoes, also soaked.
“I peed my pants— What does it look like, Harvey? My water just broke!”
“Her water just broke!” he shouts for the whole church to hear, his face instantly turning red.
Without asking me, he lifts me into his arms. I try to protest that he can’t force his back yet, but he doesn’t listen. Both my parents and his parents approach us, and then Becca comes dashing with all the knowledge of the nurse of a plastic surgeon.
“How are you feeling, Elsa?” Becca follows Harvey as he heads for the door.
“In pain!” I shout at her. “Oh, Becca, they weren’t supposed to come until next month!”
“You can’t control baby time!” Becca says and giggles, bidding us goodbye as we cross the threshold.
“Let’s get my car!” My father says, keys at hand.
“No, my car is bigger!” Harvey’s father shouts, winning this game.
And George is right, driving a seven-seater that could carry an army. He and Lorna go in the front seat, with him at the wheel, Harvey and I in the middle seat, and mom and dad in the back.
“Next stop, Babyland!” George says, trying to be cute as he steps on the pedal.
“How far apart are the contractions, Elsa?” Mom says, reaching over the backseat to hold the hand Harvey is not squeezing.
“Until we entered the church, fifteen minutes, but now they’re closer!”
“John, start counting!” she orders dad, who keeps an eye on his watch and takes it seriously, never moving his gaze from it.
“Harvey.” I say, fearing for the next contraction. “Wasn’t it supposed to be next month?”
I look at him. He’s bright red, breathing heavily, and his eyes are looking like a deer caught in the headlights.
After several moments, he says, “Kiera and I were born at seven months, babe. Right mom?”
He looks at Lorna for assurance and she reaches back to touch his face. “Don’t worry, darling! Everything is going to be alright!”
Until we get to the hospital, we time the contractions at five minutes apart.
As the wedding dress kept clinging to the wheelchair, Harvey carried me inside the maternity ward himself, and from there they get me out of that dress and Harvey out of his jacket to get on hospital gowns.
