Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“Let’s go, mama. Be strong for your baby.”
She put an arm around me and I took a deep breath as we moved toward her front door. I had to be strong, like she said. The faster we got to the hospital, the safer my delivery would be.
We made it halfway down the stairs when I stopped, gripping the handrail for dear life as I breathed through another contraction. I’d never experienced pain like this. Marlowe waited until I was able to move again, and then we made it the rest of the way down the stairs.
“My phone,” I said as we neared the door to my apartment. “Where’s my phone?”
“I have it. I put your phone and keys in my bag before we left my apartment.”
“I need my phone.”
“So you can post our dance video?” she cracked.
I glowered at her, in no mood for jokes.
“Tough crowd,” she said, reaching into her bag for my phone and passing it to me.
I dialed Beau’s number as we slowly walked toward Marlowe’s little electric car. Another contraction was hitting when I got his voicemail.
“Hey, it’s Beau. You know what to do.”
“Beau, it’s…oh my god, that hurts.” I paused to breathe in and out a couple of times. “I’m in labor. Marlowe is…” Another breath. “…taking me to the hospital. You know which one.”
Marlowe took my phone and I grimaced as she opened the passenger door to her car.
“It’s so tiny, and I’m so huge.”
“Get in before the next contraction hits. Unless you want to have your baby in this parking lot?”
I groaned and folded myself into her car, grateful she’d taken charge. This was not part of my birth plan. I had a bag inside with the music I wanted to listen to, clothes for me and the baby, and my written wishes for the birth.
There was no time to get the bag, though. This baby was coming five weeks early. I tried not to scream as Marlowe drove, another contraction striking.
“The hospital isn’t far; hang in there,” she said, running a red light. “I’m pretty sure that light was pink.”
“God, it’s like someone’s trying to murder me from the inside,” I said, whimpering. “I thought I’d be all breathing and finding my Zen but this is some bullshit.”
“I can see the hospital sign. We’re almost there, Shelby.”
“Don’t leave me alone,” I begged. “Will you stay until Beau comes?”
“Bitch, I’m not going anywhere. You’re my best friend and I’m not leaving you when you’re in labor.”
Another contraction hit, and it was the worst one yet. I was screaming as Marlowe pulled into the ER entrance turnaround, stopping under the big portico and running around to help me out of the car.
“Help!” she yelled. “She’s having a baby!”
“Shelby, I need you to push now,” the doctor said, looking up from between my legs.
“Come on, mama,” Marlowe said, putting an arm behind my neck and holding my hand with her other one. “You can do this. It’s almost time to meet your baby.”
“Where’s Beau?” I asked her. “Did he call back?”
“I haven’t looked. I’m kind of in the middle of something here. Listen to the doctor and push.”
I leaned up on my elbows and gave it everything I had, collapsing back onto the bed when the doctor said I could take a break.
“Where is he?” I wondered out loud. “He’s not traveling or anything and he said he’d keep his phone on him all the time.”
“Okay, time to push again,” the doctor said. “I can see the baby’s head. There’s a lot of dark hair.”
My baby had dark hair, just like Beau. I took a deep breath and pushed as hard as I could, the pain still intense. I’d have my child in my arms soon. A child I’d love until my dying breath.
“Here we go. Another big push, Shelby,” the doctor said.
“Come on, you’ve got this,” one of the nurses said in encouragement.
I pushed with every ounce of strength in me, feeling like I was being torn in two.
“The head is out,” the doctor said. “Stop pushing for just a second.”
I panted like I’d learned in my birthing class, fighting my urge to push. The doctor gave me an encouraging look and said, “Okay, another big push.”
I pushed, yelling at the top of my lungs as the pain got worse and then suddenly better.
“What’s happening?” I asked Marlowe, my body going limp.
She squeezed my hand and watched the doctor working. “I don’t know. Keep breathing.”
Dread filled my chest. The baby was out, but there was no crying. I looked at Marlowe frantically just as a high wail filled the room.
“Shelby, you have a beautiful baby boy,” the doctor said, holding up my baby so I could see him.
I burst into tears of joy. My son. I’d dreamed of this moment.
“I love you,” I said to him, my head dropping to the bed.