Epilogue One
Audrey
I had a plan. Classical music playing? Downloaded. Go-bag? Packed with snacks, a silk robe, and three different lip balms. I was going to be serene, powerful, radiant. I was going to prove to all women everywhere that birth is a beautiful, organized thing.
Instead, my water breaks in aisle four at Safeway while arguing with Wolf over whether strawberry mango is better than peach. He freezes mid-sentence, his eyes going wide as he looks from me to the ground and back up to my eyes, his skin going white.
“Did you just?” He can’t get any further.
“Yes,” I hiss. “Water just broke.” Shooting pain runs through my stomach, doubling me over. Holy hell!
He loses a few brain cells with his next question. “Are you sure?”
I point to the tidal wave at my feet. “This isn’t a spilled soda, Captain Obvious,” I snarl. My peaceful mood goes up in smoke at the first real labor pain.
Luckily, my husband recovers his brain cells and starts moving, knocking over a display of granola bars while shouting. “She’s crowning!”
“I’m not crowning,” I yell, but the sound ends on a groan as another contraction hits. Why didn’t anyone warn me how intense this pain is? I can’t be that far dilated yet, so it’s going to get worse.
Wolf has disappeared, and I can’t move, so I lean against the shelf and try to breathe like my birthing class taught me. I’m starting to get my breath back when Wolf skids to a stop in front of me, sweat on his brow.
“I’m so sorry. I made it all of the way outside before I realized you weren’t with me,” he says. His sheer panic makes me laugh. He’s trying, really trying. I didn’t think a day would come that he’d lose control. It seems the birth of our child is the test of a lifetime for him.
It takes a while, but we finally make it to our vehicle. He lifts me inside as if I weigh nothing, which is so untrue. He climbs in and hits the gas like he’s entering the Indy 500. My worst nightmare comes to life as we get stuck in traffic, my screams growing fiercer with each contraction.
Wolf makes calls, his voice more and more panicked as the hospital seems too far away. I’m not sure we’re going to make it. I feel pressure and the need to push. Wolf begs me not to do that.
“Do you want me to keep my legs shut tight? Maybe that’s what I should’ve been doing when we made this baby!” I snap. I might feel bad about this later, but right now, he’s not my favorite person in the world.
He wisely doesn’t comment on this. Somehow, miracle of miracles, we come to a skidding stop in front of the Emergency entrance. The hospital staff barely has time to admit me before the unwelcome parade arrives.
Chloe is the first to barge in, a grin so big, her face looks about to split. She’s carrying a camera, and waving a go-pro. “We’re going to capture it all.”
I glare at the devices as sweat rolls off my face like it’s raining. “No!” I tell her. “Do not lift those cameras.”
She turns away and I have a feeling she’s laughing at me. I want to punch my best friend for the first time in my life.
Drake comes running into the room next, holding three different swaddling blankets and an unopened bottle of champagne. “I brought options,” he tells us. “Where should I sit?” I look at him in horror. There’s not a chance in hell he’s staring at my southern region. That’s far too personal for in-laws.
“Get out!” I yell.
Jayden slips in behind him before he can run. “I’m here with snacks,” he quickly says, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere but this room. He grabs Drake’s arm. “Let’s go.” He drops the bags on a chair and runs before I get the chance to yell at him.
Multiple heads peek in the door, and I wonder what’s going to come first: this child, or me committing murder. It’s a close call. Wolf finally thunders down the hall that not one more person is allowed to come near the door. That should take care of that.
One hour later, it feels like one long contraction. They’re coming so close together, I barely have time to take a breath before the next one hits. I threaten to never speak to Wolf again unless he gets me an epidural, a smoothie, and drugs, lots and lots of drugs.
He grips my hand. “You’re doing great, love. We’re almost there.”
“We’re?” I shout. “There’s no we’re . I’m the one dying here.”
He looks at me with love, and still a bit of panic, though he must feel better now that we’re at the hospital. “I wish I could take the pain away from you.”
“Well, you can’t so get me drugs!” I demand.
He leans close to me, his eyes sparkling. “What’s a baby’s favorite kind of music?” I’m confused as I look at him.
“What are you talking about?”
He smiles. “Bop, bop, bop.”
Another contraction hits. I scream. We’ll never know if it’s the bad joke or pain.
“I don’t like you!” I say when I catch my breath again.
“I adore you,” he replies, not at all offended.
“You two are adorable,” the nurse says. I glare daggers at her.
An hour later, after what feels like an eternity, a hell of a lot of sweat, sobbing, cursing, and one brief hallucination where I could’ve sworn my doctor was really Joseph Anderson in a lab coat, I’m holding my daughter in my arms for the first time, her pink skin perfect, her bald head nestled against my breast, and her tiny body cradled safely in my arms. Wolf is beside us, a tear running down his cheek as one huge hand lays gently on her back, and the other rests on my cheek.
“I didn’t think I wanted to be a father a few years ago,” he whispers, brushing at our sweet daughter’s smooth skin. “But now I can’t imagine life without her.”
“She’s ours. We created this,” I tell him, tears rapidly falling.
“Our newest little adventure,” he says with a chuckle.
“I have a feeling it’s going to be our wildest one yet.” He leans forward and kisses my lips with such gentleness that it starts my tears all over again.
“There will be many changes in our lives.”
“All of them unexpected, just as we like.”
There’s a long pause as we soak in this moment while the hospital staff quietly move about the room, cleaning up the mess we’ve made and getting it ready for visitors. Monitors quietly beep, and life goes on. Babies are born every minute. Even though this moment is incredibly special to us, it’s nothing the staff hasn’t seen before.
“Audrey,” Wolf softly says. I smile as I look at him. “Why did the baby cookie cry?” I’m confused.
“Because its mother was a wafer too long.”
I chuckle in horror. “Our poor daughter doesn’t stand a chance,” I say. Apparently, my suave husband has turned into the world’s worst dad-joke-teller.
Wolf kisses me again, and I realize our next chapter has started. I don’t need to write it; it’s being written for us. We aren’t in the sky or even on the ground, but we’re here together, floating as the greatest adventure of all begins.