Twenty
Harper
Labour starts at three forty in the morning. Not the cute little movie version where my water breaks dramatically onto supermarket tiles while strangers clap. No. I wake up because someone has apparently climbed inside my body with a crowbar. I bolt upright.
"…Ow."
Silence. Then another wave rolls through me, squeezing everything from my ribs to my knees until I have to grip the side of the mattress and breathe through clenched teeth.
"Oh… you have got to be kidding me."
Beside me, Alexander is awake instantly. Not even half awake but fully awake so suddenly that is makes me jump. The kind of awake that says he's already planning the next ten steps.
"Contraction?"
"I don't know." I suck in another breath. "It feels like it though."
He glances at the clock.
"Okay."
Just… Okay. No panic. No frantic Googling. He reaches for his phone and starts the timer while I sit there trying to remember every birthing class I only half paid attention to because I was too busy wondering whether the hospital biscuits would be any good. The contraction eases. I breathe.
"I think..." I swallow. "I think that counted as a proper contraction." He only gives a nod in response.
"We'll time the next one fully."
Of course we will. Because apparently I've chosen to have a baby with the only man on earth capable of being organised during active labour. The next one arrives before I've even made it to the bathroom.
"Oh, you absolute…"
I grab the vanity. Forget dignity. Forget breathing techniques. Forget every labour scene I've ever written. Every woman in my books looked graceful. Radiant. Powerful. Every single one of them was a filthy liar. Alexander appears in the doorway but doesn't come in.
He knows enough by now to understand there isn't a damn thing he can do while a contraction is happening except exist nearby. When it finally eases, he quietly asks,
"How long was that one?"
"I don't know. You are the one with the timer going." I glare at him. "Somewhere between thirty seconds and the rest of my natural life."
He disappears. When he comes back he's wearing jeans instead of pyjama pants, holding my hospital folder, my shoes and a glass of water.
"When did you get dressed?"
"Just now, you must have been distracted."
"I was having a contraction."
"I know."
"I could've been dying."
"You weren't."
"You don't know that." His mouth twitches.
"I was ninety-eight percent sure."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't." I sigh, I may want to throttle him right now, but I don’t know how much of that is me or the tiny being trying to punch a hole through my uterus.
"…No. I don’t."
The next contraction steals the rest of the sentence. I grip the kitchen bench so hard my fingers ache. Every part of my body suddenly has an opinion. My back hurts. My hips hurt. Even my eyebrows somehow hurt. When it finally lets go, I lean against the bench.
"I've changed my mind." Alexander looks up from unlocking the front door.
"About?"
"The baby can stay where it is.” He laughs at that.
"I don't think that's an option."
"I'd like a second opinion." Another contraction steals the rest of the conversation. By the time it eases, Alexander already has my hospital bag over one shoulder.
"I'll wake Leo."
I nod, squeezing my lips together to stop a grunt of pain escaping. A minute later I hear quiet footsteps padding down the hallway. Leo appears in dinosaur pyjamas that are at least two sizes too small now, his hair sticking up in every possible direction. He blinks at us.
"Mum?" I smile, although it probably looks more like a grimace.
"I think your sister's decided today's the day."
His eyes go impossibly wide.
"Really?" Another contraction answers for me. I lean against the kitchen bench and make a noise that sounds vaguely like an injured walrus. Leo looks between me and Alexander.
"…Is she hurting Mum?" Alexander crouches beside him.
"No, mate."
"Then why's mum making those noises?" I answer before Alexander can.
"Because childbirth is a scam."
Alexander snorts a laugh.
Leo doesn't, he just looks confusingly between us. Alexander’s already helping Leo into yesterday's hoodie while somehow managing to keep one eye on me.
"I am going to text Elsie, and she will meet us in the hospital and stay with you little man." Leo nods immediately. No complaints or whining about being tired. Just quiet excitement.
"Can I tell the baby I said good luck?" My heart squeezes.
"I am sure she'd like that."
He walks over carefully and wraps both arms around my waist. Well… Around as much of my waist as he can.
"Good luck, Baby." He pats my stomach twice.
"Try not to hurt Mum too much." I laugh. Then immediately regret laughing as another contraction crashes into me. Alexander is beside me before I can ask. One hand on my back. The other holding my elbow.
"You ready?"
"No."
"I get it." His eyes are so full of compassion that I am torn between punching him in the junk so he can feel a fraction of this and bawling in his arms. "But let's go anyway."
The drive to the hospital is mostly silent.
Not because there's nothing to say. Because every four minutes my body forms a mutiny that causes me to make involuntary noises that seem to concern both Alexander and Leo.
Leo sits in the back seat clutching his backpack on his lap. Every now and then he leans forward.
"You okay, Mum?"
"Mhmm." Another contraction rolls through me.
"…Ask me again in a few minutes." Alexander reaches across and finds my hand without taking his eyes off the road. He's trying very hard to look calm.
Unfortunately for him… I've known him long enough now to spot the signs. His jaw is locked. He's checking every mirror twice. He's driving exactly two kilometres under the speed limit. He's terrified.
Which somehow makes me feel… Less terrified. Halfway there, Alexander taps the button on the steering wheel.
"Call Elsie." The car rings once. Twice. Then…
"Please tell me this isn't a butt dial at four o'clock in the morning," Elsie mumbles. Alexander doesn't miss a beat.
"It's time."
There's a pause. Then she's suddenly wide awake.
"…As in baby time?"
Another contraction steals my ability to answer. Alexander watches me breathe through it before replying.
"Yes. Baby time. We’re ten minutes from the hospital. We’ve got Leo with us."
He pauses for a beat.
"Can you meet us there?"
"Already grabbing my keys." The line goes dead. I blink.
"Did she hang up without saying goodbye?" Alexander shakes his head with a small smile kicking at the edge of his lips.
"Yes."
"That's… so unlike her." He smiles at that.
"Very."
By the time we pull into the emergency entrance, Elsie's little hatchback is already skidding into the park beside us.
I don't even question how she almost beat us.
The woman treats speed limits as polite suggestions when people she loves are involved.
She jumps out wearing fluffy slippers, leggings, and an oversized hoodie that proudly announces WORLD'S OKAYEST BAKER.
Her hair is somewhere between messy bun and bird's nest. She looks like she got dressed by running through her wardrobe.
Perfect. She opens Leo's door before Alexander can reach it.
"Morning, bug."
Leo climbs out, backpack and all.
"You came."
"Of course I came." She kneels in front of him.
"You and me are going to have the best waiting room adventure ever." He glances at me.
"What if the baby's already here before I get inside?"
"I promise," I manage between breaths, "she'll wait for you." He walks over carefully and wraps his arms around me as much as my stomach will allow.
"I love you, Mum."
"I love you too, sweetheart."
He presses one hand against my belly.
"Be good Baby." A tiny kick answers him causing his whole face lights up.
"I knew she heard me." Then he takes Elsie's hand.
She gives me one look. You've got this. No words.
She doesn't need them. Alexander helps me out of the car.
Another contraction hits before I've fully straightened.
I grab his hand. He grabs mine back. Together, we head toward the sliding hospital doors.
The maternity ward smells exactly how every hospital I've ever been in smells.
Antiseptic. Coffee. Just a little bit of fear. Not necessarily in that order.
By the time they get me into a room, I've already decided contractions should qualify as assault.
The midwife clips a plastic band around my wrist before asking me the same questions I've answered approximately seventeen times downstairs.
"Full name?"
"Harper Bennett."
"Date of birth?" I tell her.
"Any allergies?"
"Cheating husbands." She pauses halfway through writing. Alexander coughs suspiciously into his fist.
"…Penicillin?" she asks.
"No." She smiles.
"I'll put down none."
The room is bigger than I expected. Containing a hospital bed some elaborate monitor and a recliner that looks like it was designed by someone who actively hates the human spine.
One enormous window looking out over the still-dark car park.
It's strangely… Peaceful. Until another contraction arrives.
Then I briefly consider biting the bed. Alexander quietly starts unpacking the hospital bag.
Not because anyone asked him to. Because if he stands still for longer than thirty seconds his anxiety starts looking for things to keep him preoccupied
He lines up my water bottle. Phone charger. Lip balm. Snacks. Extra blanket. Then rearranges them. Twice. I watch him between contractions.
"You know…" He looks up from draping my blanket over the recliner like he is styling a photoshoot.
"...the stuff isn't going anywhere."
"I know."
"You've alphabetised the snacks."
"I have not." I point. He looks and then just squints as though he is confirming that he DID in fact, alphabetise them.
"…That's unfortunate." The midwife checks me.
"You are at six centimetres." I blink.
"Already?" She nods.