Chapter 30
THIRTY
I WAS BORN READY
H olden
A missed call and a text from Briar while I’m at work the next day has me rattled. Call me as soon as you can.
What the fuck? I excuse myself from a meeting and go back to my desk and call her.
“Baby, are you okay?” I push through the door of my office, exhaling a grateful breath when she answers my call.
“The pain is back. It hurts, Holden.” There’s agony in her voice.
“Where are you? I’m coming to get you. I’m taking you to the hospital.” I stuff my laptop into my work bag, grab my jacket and jog down the hall to let my boss know I need to leave.
“I’m at home,” Briar says. “I left work thinking a warm bath and some rest would help but it didn’t.”
Has she been in pain all morning without telling me? My heart drops to my stomach.
“You’re going to be fine, baby. Stay there. I’ll be there in 10 minutes. Understand?”
“Yes.” I hear her suck in a breath. “I’ll wait for you. ”
I burst through the doors to the parking lot in a full-out run now. Could this really be it? Could Briar be in labor? She still has 2 more weeks left in her pregnancy. Is it too early?
The doctor told us she could go into labor early the last time Briar had her routine check, but I think I just assumed early meant a few days. Not April instead of May.
Fuck . I should have made her go on maternity leave last month. I knew she was getting tired, long days at work were getting to be too much for her. Plus, we’ve been doing so much in the evenings to get the nursery ready. Briar was adding tiny star decals to the wall behind the crib last night until 10 p.m. before she finally collapsed into our bed. I told her I would do them for her, but she had this vision in her head of exactly how she wanted them.
Briar’s sitting on the edge of the couch in the living room when I rush inside our house. In an instant, I’m crouching to the floor in front of her pressing my hands to either side of her belly.
“Hey, pretty girl. How are you doing?” I look at up her, tears glistening in her pretty green eyes. “What’s happening, Bee? Do you think you’re having contractions?”
“I don’t know, but I think I should see a doctor.”
“Let’s go out to the truck, okay? Tell me anything you want me to bring to the hospital.”
“Hospital?” she questions with panic in her eyes.
“Yes, hospital, Bee. Just in case. I’m not wasting time.”
She nods, agony sweeping her face as I help her to stand. I sweep her into my arms and carry her out to my truck. Once she’s buckled into the front seat, I run back inside, unbuttoning my dress shirt as I go. As quickly as I can, I change into a T-shirt and joggers before grabbing the hospital bag that we had packed along with her phone and charger. I turn off the lights and lock the front door realizing the next time we’re here, we might have Slugger with us. The thought sends a shot of adrenaline to my chest.
I throw Briar’s bag in the back of my truck, then I climb in, checking to see how she’s doing. “Briar. You okay?”
“It hurts,” she winces, bent over her stomach. Her right hand grips the handle of the door so tightly that her knuckles are white.
Is this normal? If they’re contractions, don’t they come on gradually? Why is she already in this much pain?
With one hand on the steering wheel, I place my other on her back, reversing out of the driveway as fast as I can. I’m driving up Haven Harbor about 20 miles over the legal limit while I rub circles over Briar’s back.
“We should call the hospital and tell them we’re on the way.” She sits back in the seat, loosening her grasp on the door handle.
These have to be contractions. That’s why she’s getting breaks in between the pain, right? I should be timing them. That’s what I learnt in the prenatal classes we took. I check the time on the dash as I drive through town to Reed Point General.
“It’ll be fine, Bee. There will be a doctor there to help us.”
There would be, right? It’s a hospital. There has to be a doctor available who can deliver a baby. Fuck. I love living in a small town—except for times like these, when I wish we had a big city hospital with tons of staff around to help. But babies are born in Reed Point all the time, I remind myself. They’ll know what to do.
“I thought we’d have two more weeks,” she whispers.
“I know, baby. Maybe Slugger just can’t wait to meet us,” I say, reaching over to squeeze her knee gently. “Bee, don’t worry, okay? We’re almost there. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Shit. Why is this drive taking so long? It never takes more than 15 minutes to drive anywhere in Reed Point but for some reason, it feels like it’s taking 15 years to get to the damn hospital.
“It’s hurting again.” Briar leans forward over her stomach again and I check the time on the dash. Four minutes. It’s been 4 minutes since she had her last contraction.
So, I drive faster, saying more prayers, until the hospital parking lot finally comes into view and I’m parking in front of the hospital doors.
“Holden, you can’t park here.”
“It’s fine. I’ll get someone to move it for me later.” I round the front to get to Briar. Helping her out of the truck, I grab her bag from the backseat and grasp her hand in mine, walking Briar slowly through the hospital doors. The second the receptionist sees us, she’s flying from her chair to bring Briar a wheelchair.
“I think she’s in labor. I timed the pain, she’s at 4 minutes apart.”
“You timed my contractions?” Briar’s voice sounds surprised.
“Of course I did. I read that baby book five times.”
“Let’s get you to see a doctor, honey,” the woman says. “What’s your name?”
“Briar Moore.”
“And you must be Dad. Are you ready?”
“I was born ready.” I fake a grin that I’m not really feeling. Now that we’re here, my hands are shaking.
The woman gives Briar a kind smile then returns her attention to me. “You can follow us through those doors and once she’s in a bed, I’ll get you to fill out some forms.”
She wheels Briar through a set of large automatic doors, past a nurse’s station to a private room. There’s a bed in the center of the room, a plastic bassinet against a wall and a small bathroom with a shower on the opposite side of the room.
“This is where you’ll have your baby,” she explains. “Providing the doctor keeps you here and doesn’t send you home.”
“Send her home? The doctor can’t send her home. Look at the pain she’s in. She can’t—”
“Holden, baby, it’s okay.” Briar interrupts me with her palm on my forearm, trying her best to give a small smile.
“I’m going to get the doctor on call. His name is Doctor Waterman. You can go ahead and change out of your clothes and put on the hospital gown that’s on the bed.”
“Okay.” Briar stands as the woman slips out of the room, closing the door behind her. I throw her bag on the nearest chair and then help Briar change and get onto the bed under the blue-and-white striped blanket. There’s a knock at the door a moment later.
“Hi Briar, I’m Carina, your nurse. I’m going to hook you up to a few machines while we wait for Dr. Waterman. We’re going to see what’s going on. Sound good?”
“Sounds good. Thank you,” Briar replies before her face is contorted in pain. Her hand grips the blanket.
Carina works busily to strap a wide band around Briar’s stomach with a monitor that will track the contractions and monitor the baby’s heart rate. I pull a chair closer to the bed, scooping Briar’s hand into mine and giving it a squeeze.
“You are in active labor, Briar. Your contractions are three minutes apart. You will most likely have this baby by tonight. If not, it will be tomorrow.”
“Isn’t it too soon?” The fear in Briar’s eyes is like a punch to my gut. “I’m not due for two more weeks.”
“Delivering a baby two weeks early is considered near-term. Perfectly normal. I don’t want you to worry,” Carina says. “The baby’s heart rate is 130, which is exactly what we want to see. I want you to push the red button by your bed if you need anything or if the pain gets too much. I’ll be back with some ice water. I won’t be gone for too long.”
As Carina leaves the room, a strong contraction slices through Briar’s abdomen. “Holden, it hurts so bad.”
Briar squeezes my hand and grits her teeth until the wave of pain subsides and she can breathe again. “You’re doing so good, pretty girl. I’m so damn proud of you.”
I brush her hair from her face, stand up and press a kiss to her forehead, noticing the tears slipping down her rosy cheeks. “I’m scared, Holden. What if something goes wrong?”
I bring her hand to my mouth, whispering against her knuckles. “It’s going to be okay. His heartbeat is strong.”
I try to reassure Briar, but truthfully, I’m just as scared as she is. I’ve read the pregnancy books. I know the risks of a baby being born early. There is still so much that could go wrong.
Another contraction slams through her body, then another three minutes later and another after that. They keep coming. Briar breathes through them like she practised in prenatal classes while I rub her shoulders.
When Carina returns, she has Doctor Waterman with her; he’s dressed in light-blue scrubs with a matching cap covering his graying hair.
“I hear we’re having a baby tonight.” He reaches for a pair of latex gloves on the metal tray next to the foot of the bed and sits on the stool next to it. “I’m going to check to see how you’re progressing, Briar. This will only take a few minutes.”
A wave of panic washes over Briar’s face as she waits to hear what the doctor has to say. We’ve been waiting here for hours for a glimpse of the man. Now that he’s here, we’re both on pins and needles waiting for his report.
“Baby is in position. He or she is almost here.”
“He.” Briar says. “It’s a boy.”
The doctor smiles, noticing the panic in Briar’s voice. “Your baby boy is looking good. Heart rate is perfect and you’re eight centimetres dilated. He’s going to be here in the next couple of hours. I’ll be back soon when it’s time to push.”
Our son is almost here. We’re going to meet our baby boy.
The next two hours move slowly. Briar is in agony and exhausted but breathing through every contraction that steamrolls through her body. Just after 10:30 p.m., Doctor Waterman returns and after a brief exam, he tells Briar it’s time for her to push.
“This is it, baby. Our little Slugger is almost here. You’re almost there,” I say into her hair, my lips on her temple.
“I don’t know if I can do it, Holden.” She squeezes her eyes shut and breathes through a whopper of a contraction. It hurts and I’m so tired.”
“You’ve got this, baby. I know it. There’s no one as strong as you. You’re almost there.”
The doctor is talking to Carina on the far side of the room as machines beep and monitors flash next to Briar’s bed. She turns her gaze to me, tired emerald eyes locking with mine, and I lean in and kiss her before another contraction interrupts the moment. “I love you. I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too.”
“You can do this,” I tell her, running my hand over her damp hair. “I’ve got you, Bee, and I’m so damn proud of you.”
Her eyes search mine, until another contraction rips through her, bringing tears that slip down her cheeks. My heart is sliced wide open seeing her in so much pain. She’s squeezing my hand; her jaw is clenched tight. When the contraction finally subsides, she collapses against the bed.
“I’m only doing this once,” she groans. “No more babies.”
A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “No more babies then. All I need is the two of you.”
“I’m not joking. You can mark my words. We can get a dog or another cat, but no more babies.”
I laugh because she’s cute as hell. It wouldn’t matter to me if it was just the three of us. I’d never need anything more. Just Briar and our baby boy together under one roof. I fucking love just thinking about that.
I offer Briar water before another contraction hits. Followed by another. And another until Dr. Waterman and Carina are in position at the foot of the bed.
“Let’s have this baby, Briar. I’m going to get you to start pushing,” he says. “Holden, you can help her hold her leg up while Carina has the other. When I tell you to push, Briar, you’re going to push for as long as you can. Okay?”
“Okay,” she whispers, her eyes locked on the doctor, who has folded the blanket up to her waist. I brace one knee while the nurse holds her other. Briar glances up at me and whispers, “I love you . ”
I’m in complete awe of this woman. She’s strong and brave and she looks like a complete goddess.
When another contraction hits her at full force, Dr. Waterman tells her to push. My strong girl bares down, bringing her chin to her chest, and gives it everything she’s got. When she runs out of energy and air, she expels a giant breath, collapsing into the bed.
She pushes again a few minutes later. And again. For the next 20 minutes, the room seems to spin and go silent. Briar keeps pushing. The doctor keeps encouraging her. I hold her knee because it’s the only thing I can do while I pray. All I can hear is the adrenaline coursing through my body.
And then a sharp cry fills the air, and I glance down to see my baby boy in Dr. Waterman’s hands.
A beautiful baby boy.
My Slugger.