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I’m selfish, it’s true, but I can’t bring myself to end this… whatever this is… between Nathan and I.
New year’s eve passes uneventfully, we didn’t bother with fireworks because they scare the crap out of me and I told Nathan to go out and have fun but he insisted that he’d rather be at home reading. He stayed at home with me but he did no reading. There was a lot of eating and baking though. He can now make scones successfully which is actually harder than it looks.
I’m now only eight days from my due date and I’m scared out of my mind.
The snow is thick on the ground, when I go outside I have to wear wellies as it comes to my ankles in some places. I want to build a snowman but Nathan won’t help me. He hates the snow and has avoided leaving the house whilst it lays on the ground in one huge, white blanket of doom, as he dramatically calls it.
Spoil sport.
Fingers crossed it melts by tomorrow. My stomach has been twinging slightly all day and I’m concerned I’ll go into labour during this stupid weather. Although the weather forecast says it’ll stop snowing by tonight, it’s now one in the afternoon and although it has stopped I don’t trust the forecast. They’ve lied to me too many times before.
As it is, I don’t tell Nathan that I’ve been getting twinges, the last time I did that he took me to the hospital and it turned out to be gas. It was humiliating and he still laughs about it from time to time. Mostly because the woman leaned over me, her fingers grasping at my inner channel in an attempt to see if I’m dilated or not, she must have pushed the wrong button because I farted and it didn’t stop for about seven seconds.
The room went silent and still, save for my loud and squeaky, endless fart. Then Nathan burst out with laughter so hard, tears streamed from his eyes and he turned red from not being able to breathe. What’s worse is, it stank really, really bad. This only made him laugh harder. I thought I was going to die of embarrassment.
He laughed all the way home too and all day the next day. Even now sometimes he’ll look at me and his body will start shaking as he tries to contain it.
My twinges seem to stop by the time I’m ready for bed which I’m severely grateful for. I climb under the covers without a care in the world, Nathan climbs in behind me and holds me tight like he does every night.
I don’t feel lonely. I feel good, not great, but good.
My smile remains on my face as I fall asleep, eager to see what this year will bring.
I’m not sure what time it is when I wake up from an awful pain in my stomach that rivals that of a strong period pain. An arm around my waist stops me from sitting up with it. I rub my lower stomach. It’s probably just petrol like last time, which would be embarrassing due to Nathan sleeping next to me. What time is it?
It’s only ten fifty at night. I’ve been asleep an hour or so.
I lie back, my neck on top of Nathan’s outstretched arm, his breath fans across my cheek. Another pain rumbles in my lower stomach, making all of my limbs want to curl. I bring my knees up as high as I can get them and roll onto my side. My breath leaves me as the pain leaves my body. Nothing but a dull ache remains.
What the hell’s going on?
Oh… shit.
Nah, it’s just false labour.
I need to pee.
“Nathan,” I mumble and prod him in the chest.
He stirs and blinks his eyes open, he looks tired. “What’s wrong?”
“It hurts,” I moan and roll onto my back.
Nathan looks panicked, “What does?”
“My back and my stomach,” I sit up, he follows suit. “I need the toilet.”
“Okay,” he shakes himself out of his stupor and climbs from the bed. His hands grip me under the arms and help me up. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I lie because I’m not; I’m terrified.
Another pain grows within, starting in my lower stomach and radiating through my back. My body lurches forward and my hand grips Nathan’s bicep. The skin all over my stomach tightens and I feel a horrible pressure down below.
“Oh god,” Nathan mutters and rubs my back soothingly. “You’re in labour. I need to call the doctor.”
“I need to get to the hospital,” I say calmly and stand once the pain fades. “I’m going to the toilet, you call what’s his name.”
“You shouldn’t go alone,” Nathan says softly and helps me to the bathroom. “I’ll give you privacy but leave the door open.”
Eye roll, “I’m not leaving the door open.”
