Chapter 12
Grayson
Georgia looks uncomfortable.
She’s been walking around the house all day, holding her back and waddling. Every time I ask her what’s wrong, though, she waves me off, claiming that it’s just normal pregnancy pain, but I’m not so sure.
This seems like it’s more than that, mainly because I’ve been timing it, and every pregnancy book that I’ve read said if the pain can be timed, then it’s the real deal.
Right on cue, Georgia bends over from her pacing, holding her stomach and taking long, slow, deep breaths.
I time that, too.
“Peach,” I say once she’s finally standing up, “I think we need to go to the hospital.”
“No, we don’t, Grayson. I’m fine—” she groans in pain with the last word, and I start to panic. That one was closer than before, and I didn’t count.
“Peach, please. The worst they can do is send us back home, but I am not equipped to deliver a baby. I would rather be safe than sorry.”
I’m not above dropping to my knees and begging at this point. We technically have five more weeks, and most first-time babies don’t come early. But there’s nothing normal about Georgia and me. Why would our baby be the exception?
Georgia must hear the desperation in my voice because she slowly spins my way, and when she takes me in, she nods. “Okay, Gray. Grab the bags, and let’s go.”
I don’t wait for her to change her mind. Racing up the stairs, I grab the bags from the nursery that is finally finished and head back downstairs. Georgia already has her shoes on and is waiting for me by the front door.
Her face twists in pain again, and inside, I start to panic. On the outside, though, I’m determined to be calm and collected for my wife.
“Breathe with me, Peach. Just breathe with me,” I say, reaching out and rubbing her back.
She does as I ask, and when the pain subsides, I escort her out to the car as fast as she can go.
I throw the bags into the back hatch of her new car, check to make sure the car seat is in, even though I just installed it yesterday, and then open Georgia’s door for her. She lets me help her inside, and I reach over her, grabbing the seat belt and buckling her in.
She offers me a grateful look but nothing else, in too much pain to concentrate.
Jogging around the vehicle, I hop in on my side, and then I gun it, on a mission to make it to the hospital before I really do end up delivering our baby boy in the car.
Only, I might forget to pay attention to the speed limit until it’s a little too late.
Red and blue lights flash behind me, and I groan, hitting my hand against the steering wheel.
“Not now. We don’t have time for this.” Looking over at Georgia, I say, “Act like you’re in pain. He will probably let us go. I watched it in a movie one time.”
Georgia glares at me. “Was that movie The Outsiders?”
I shrug, not willing to admit it was. She rolls her eyes, and then another wave hits her, doubling her over.
“First off, the book came long before the movie, and one day you’re going to read it,” she grumbles, pain lacing her words, “and second, I don’t think I have to pretend.”
Pulling the car over to the shoulder, I wait as the officer exits his car and approaches my window, which is already rolled down.
He doesn’t give me a chance to speak before he says, “Do you know how fast you were going?”
I wince because, honestly, I don’t. “No, sir, but I—”
“There are no buts when it comes to the law, son. License and registration, please.”
“Sir, my wife—” I try again.
But again, he doesn’t listen.
“License. And. Registration,” he says, this time a little more sternly.
Sighing, I reach over to the glove compartment for my registration, catching Georgia’s eye as I search. She’s wearing a mix of both a grimace and a smirk on her lips. She is in pain but also finds this amusing.
At least one of us does.
With the registration in hand, I lean back, handing it to the officer.
I don’t know if he hasn’t noticed Georgia or if he just doesn’t care, but either way, I’m annoyed.
He takes the registration and my license that I dug out of my wallet and gives me a quick glare before walking back to his car.
My finger taps against the steering wheel, a habit that I know drives Georgia crazy, but I can’t seem to quit.
“Do you think he would notice if I just drove off?”
Georgia snorts, thinking I’m kidding, but I’m actually very serious. I’m going to start counting, and if he’s not back here in ninety seconds flat, I’m taking off.
I’ll endure a high-speed chase if it means I can get my wife to the hospital quicker. Whether she realizes it or not, her contractions are consistent, and at only thirty-five weeks, that means our baby would be a preemie. I won’t take the risk of anything happening to either of them.
One.
Ten.
Forty.
Luckily, the officer opens his door on the count of sixty, and I sigh in relief and frustration.
He appears at my window again, handing me my license, registration, and newly garnered ticket.
I press my lips together to keep from losing my cool. It’s not that he gave me the ticket. I was speeding, and I deserved it. It’s just that his ego wouldn’t let me explain, and because of that, my wife has sat here in pain.
“Thanks,” I say, giving him a tight-lipped smile and a smart retort. “Now, can I please get my wife, who is possibly in labor, to the hospital?”
The cop’s eyes widen in surprise. “Why didn’t you say that before? I’ll give you a police escort.”
My right eye twitches, and in the passenger seat, Georgia loses it, laughing so hard I’m afraid she might pee on herself.
“Yes, sir. That would be great.”
______________________
When we make it to the hospital, the officer offers us a wave before speeding off into the night.
I have to grit my teeth to prevent me from yelling obscenities.
“Jerk,” I mumble under my breath instead.
Georgia strokes my arm, trying to fight back her smile. “You did good, Gray.”
She winks at me, and some of my frustration falls away.
“Come on,” I say, placing my hand on her back and guiding her toward the emergency room entrance. “Let’s get you checked out.”
A nurse comes down from the OB floor to get us from the emergency room, and we follow her to a room. On the way, she asks Georgia all kinds of questions about her pregnancy so far, and I try to pay attention just in case I need to know any of this.
She has Georgia lie down on the bed, hooking her up to a machine that wraps around her stomach and measures her contractions. The nurse watches it for several minutes and then winces.
“You’re having pretty consistent contractions. I’m going to call the doctor and see how they would like to proceed. You hang tight, okay?”
Georgia nods, but as soon as the nurse leaves the room, she turns her head toward me, eyes wide with fear.
“Gray,” she cries, and I can’t stand the way that my name sounds so broken coming out of her mouth.
“Hey, it will be okay,” I say, climbing into the bed beside her.
I don’t know if I’m supposed to be here, but the nurse can kick me out when she comes back.
For now, I’m staying so I can hold my wife.
“The doctors know what they are doing. He’s almost full-term.
Even if they can’t stop the labor, he will be okay. ”
And I believe that too, not just because we have an excellent doctor but also because I know God is just a prayer away. There have been times in my life that I’ve failed to trust him, but this will not be one of them. My son’s life rests in his hands.
Georgia’s body trembles in my arms, and I hold her tighter. Her stomach is pressed against my side, and from the inside, our son tries to shove me off, kicking his foot against her stomach so hard that I feel it against mine.
The movement startles me, and I pull back. “Did he just kick me?”
“I think he’s marking his territory early,” Georgia chuckles, some of the fear leaving her face. “He wants you to know that I’m his mommy.” She stops, testing the word against her tongue again. “Mommy. Grayson, I’m going to be someone’s mommy.”
“Uh, yeah,” I say deliberately, trying not to look at her like she’s crazy, at least not right now when she could be moments away from giving birth, “I thought you knew that months ago.”
She smacks me. “I did. It’s just—this moment feels real.”
I nod, agreeing with her because she’s right. Being here at the hospital feels a little more real than it did yesterday. “I know what you mean.”
She settles back into my arms with a decisive nod, but it’s only a second before she’s squirming again.
“I have to use the bathroom,” she says, sitting up, clearly uncomfortable.
“Alright, let me grab the nurse.”
Pressing the button on the remote attached to the bed, I stand and place some pillows behind Georgia’s back to make her more comfortable.
The nurse is pretty fast getting back into the room, walking in with a happy smile on her face. “What can I help you with?”
Georgia’s face turns a little pink, and she doesn’t meet the nurse’s gaze when she says, “I have to pee. Is that allowed?”
To her credit, the nurse doesn’t laugh at Georgia’s question. “Of course, honey. Let’s get you untangled.”
The two of them work together to get the cords off Georgia’s stomach, and in less than a minute, Georgia is walking to the restroom on the other side of the room.
The nurse stays in the room, waiting for her to return so she can hook her back up, and I tap my foot against the ground, nervous to have Georgia out of my sight.
I sigh in relief when the door swings open two minutes later. But Georgia doesn’t make it further than the doorway before she stops again, looking down at the floor.
I follow her gaze, my mouth dropping open when I see what she’s looking at.
There’s a puddle around her feet, soaking the ground below her.
Georgia looks back up, finding my eyes first and then the nurses. “Maybe I peed on myself.”
This time, the nurse does laugh. “No, honey, your water just broke. And I think you’re here to stay until that baby comes out.”