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The GPS says we are nine minutes away, but my inner child only ever sees that as a challenge to beat. There’s not much traffic this late at night, and I play enough Mario kart to be an expert at dodging cars, scooters, and idiots on the road. My hazard lights are on, and I skip through every red light on the route until I skid to a stop in the ambulance bay outside the ER.
“You can’t park here,” a security guard says when Luna opens the door and steps out.
“Fuck off. I can park my pregnant self wherever I want, asshole.” She is not nice when she is in pain, and I apologize to the man.
“Sorry, I will come move it in a minute. We have a baby that isn’t waiting for us to find a spot.” He mutters something about being towed, and I honestly couldn’t care a damn. She’ll pay the impound fees once the baby arrives.
“Tow it, jackass,” Audrey yells, hobbling to the doors.
I run to catch up and ask, “Can I get a wheelchair?”
“I will kill you,” she seethes, and tries to use all the breathing techniques we practiced in our birthing classes. “Just walk faster.” She grabs my arm and her perfectly painted nails dig into my flesh. Inside the doors, a nurse comes running over to meet us, and offers her a wheelchair—regretting it immediately. She then ushers us to the nurse’s station to check-in.
“Do we need to call daddy for you?” the nurse asks. I look around us, distracted. The white sterile space gives me hives. I don’t like hospitals. “Luna…” Audrey calls me, and I step closer, “…is my birthing partner. She will be with me. There is nodaddy.” Oh, they hit a nerve with that one.
“Great. Come let us get you into a room and call the doctor to see how far along you are,” the sweet smiling nurse says, walking us to a delivery room. The maternity ward must be a happy place to work in their pink scrubs. Audrey is not a pink-sunshine person. That’s me.
They get her in bed, hooked up to a monitor and have a feel up inside her business. That was more than I needed to see, but I promised my friend I would do this with her no matter what.
“Audrey, do you have a birth plan?” the nurse asks and she scowls at her.
“I had one. This is not it. Just give me the drugs, and the help, and get the watermelon out of my money box!” She goes up an octave with each word.
“Okay then, we will set up the epidural for you now,” the nurse in pink scrubs says. “Give me a minute to get everything ready and an anesthesiologist will be in.”
“How do they stay so happy while being screamed at?” I ask my friend who just growled at the poor lady to hurry the hell up. “You’re doing great, just breathe.”
“I can’t breathe. There’s a watermelon trying to push its way out my vajayjay. Making it hard to breathe or think or anything!” I stand beside her and let her break the bones in my hand while wishing we had been able to have a home birth. This place is so hostile, even with smiling pink nurses. The bright overhead lighting, beeping sounds, and sterile smell make it less than inviting.
“Okay, Audrey,” a tall man in pink scrubs says after feeling her up again. “It looks like you may be here a while. You’re not all the way dilated yet. So, get comfy…it’ll be a long night. We have your epidural ready to go to make you comfortable and I will be in to check on your progress.” She squints her eyes but doesn’t yell this time.
* * *
Childbirth is supposed to be beautiful. It is not—not at all. Even I couldn’t see the beauty in that! I tried, but nope. Watching your best friend give birth is officially the world's best contraceptive. They should market it to teenagers. My nightmares will never be the same. You can’t unsee that.
What is beautiful is the perfect, sweet, chubby-cheeked, baby girl that came from all that mess. My brand spanking new goddaughter is absolutely perfect in every way. “Please, can you go home and get my phone and some things for us?” Audrey asks me. We’ve been here since last night and little miss only arrived after lunch time. “Spencer will be shitting in his pants.”
“Let him. You just shat out a baby.” I shake my head at her. How is she thinking about work right now? I just want baby cuddles and the dopamine hit that comes with them. “I will go get what you need. Pinky over there gave me a list. Then I will be right back.” I don’t want to go, but there is no one else to do it.
“You’re the best, Luna,” she says, smiling at the baby in her arms. “Thank you.”
“You are not so bad yourself,” I say, joking. “I will be fast.” I grab the car keys from my pocket and walk out. My chest swells with pride as I go. My best friend just had a baby girl. How fucking amazing is she.
It’s daylight out and hot again. The heatwave is killing us all slowly, and I crank the car AC to full. The late afternoon traffic is a nightmare, but I find a shortcut through suburbia. I park in front of Audrey’s beautiful home and fumble with the house keys to find one that opens the door.
Upstairs, I try to find everything on the list, for both Audrey and the baby. We have most of it––I can try to find the rest at the hospital pharmacy.
I grab her personal phone from beside the bed, and the ‘office’ keys and work phone in the kitchen. I guess I will be starting work today—seven thousand missed calls from Spencer. I roll my eyes and dial his number as I reverse out.
“Audrey, Jesus. I can’t deal with this shit. Where have you been? I missed my meeting because I couldn’t find the blue file.” No hello, no how are you, just work. What an ass. “We have to talk about how we’ll do this. Luna is not the best option.”
“Hello, Spencer,” I say, interrupting him. “It’s not the best option here. Your sister just had a baby. She can’t find your blue file right now.” Idiot. “I will help you with that later on, I just need to get her bag to the hospital,” I say, and he is deathly quiet.
“Hospital?” he stutters out.
“Yes, your niece is here. Will I see you there then?” I ask him and wonder why he is still talking to me and not racing over there.
“Why is she in the hospital?” The man is slow for a genius.
