47. Marley
47
MARLEY
F or it being early May, it’s excessively hot. Though, maybe it’s just me being in the third trimester of pregnancy. Josie seems to be handling it just fine, though, she won’t stop hovering over me.
She’s been asking me what feels like every thirty seconds if I’m staying hydrated, offering me sports drinks, or making sure my water bottle is close by. Marissa was more than willing to help me with this wedding before my maternity leave, and most of my clients I had booked for the summer ended up switching to her, which I’m grateful for. She’s so talented, and deserves to have a steady clientele.
It’s about time for the ceremony, so we head towards the building. After doing countless weddings here, I know this place like the back of my hand, and it’s always nice when there is a last minute need and the wedding planner is busy, I can just run and find it, or call Isaac. Today has gone off without a hitch.
Marissa is walking beside me as the bridal party all separates to do a few last minute tasks before the ceremony. “So, getting close, huh?” she asks.
“Thank goodness,” I mutter. My back is absolutely killing me. It doesn’t help that my camera harness is not cooperating today, putting more pressure on my shoulders and lower back than there already is.
“Third trimester sucks. In the early weeks of it, you feel great, but then, those last six weeks hit you like a freight train, and everything makes you uncomfortable and pisses you off.”
“You’ve got that right,” I reply.
“I can’t even imagine doing it with twins though. On the bright side, if you have another kid, chances are you’ll have only one baby, and it will be like a totally different experience I bet.”
I groan. “The thought of having another baby right now makes me want to vomit. I haven’t even had these ones yet.”
Marissa chuckles. “Fair.”
We make it into the ceremony area, where guests are finding their seats. I gratefully take a seat in the back of the room, my backache easing a bit. I spot Josie in the front making final adjustments to the flower arch, and Fallon, running around with her trusty clipboard.
Marissa is going to be taking a majority of the photos of the ceremony, and I’ll take the secondary duties, giving myself a little bit of a break before the reception, and portraits. I rest my body for a moment, then I’m up and taking pictures again as soon as the ceremony starts.
About halfway through the ceremony, a tight pain like the one I had a few weeks ago bands across my stomach. The pain stays, and I fight to breathe through it, knowing it’s more than likely just some Braxton-Hicks contractions. Dr. Ness told me I would more than likely experience them now, but only to come in if they develop a pattern in timing, or the pain gets worse.
The pain evaporates, and I get back to work, all thoughts of pain and preterm labor fleeing my mind. The babies are as active as always, with Baby Girl pressing on my bladder more often than not.
The rest of the ceremony goes by quickly, the bride and groom bringing nearly everyone—myself included—in the room to tears with their love story.
The Braxton-Hicks continued off and on throughout the ceremony, but never enough to conform to a pattern or make me question if I was in preterm labor. Josie has been watching me the entire time, and I suspect she’s going to make her way over to me within minutes. I take a few pictures of the receiving line and watch as Josie does exactly what I thought.
As soon as she reaches me, she speaks. “Are you okay? You winced a few times and you look like you’re in pain.”
I wave her off. “I’m fine, just some Braxton-Hicks contractions, and they’re irregular.”
Josie furrows her brow. “No, I don’t think you should be working anymore. Especially in this heat. I can call Beau to come get you,” she murmurs, already pulling her phone out.
I swipe her phone from her palm without thinking twice. “I’m. Fine.”
She narrows her eyes. “I’m watching you, Momma.” To drive home her point, she holds two fingers to her eyes, then moves them to me, and back again.
“If anything changes, I’ll tell you. But this is normal.”
“Right,” she murmurs, and I know she’s not convinced. “Can I at least have my phone back?” She holds her open palm out.
“Only if you promise not to text Beau.”
She begrudgingly agrees and I hand over her phone.
Marissa saves me from the moment, thankfully. “Ready for portraits? The bride really wants some photos in the cellar.”
“Yep, let’s go.” I fully expect Josie to hover and follow along with us, but instead, she waves at Marissa.
“Hey, she’s having some Braxton-Hicks contractions. Watch her. If they get more regular, call me.” She points at me again. “The babies need to cook longer, so don’t push yourself.”
I sigh, knowing she’s only trying to take care of me. “I won’t. I promise I’m okay.”
She throws her arms around me in a tight hug. “I’ll be up here if you need me.” I nod into her embrace, the babies kicking at my stomach. “Woah, was that them?” Josie asks in surprise.
“Yep,” I say with a small laugh. “They love their Auntie Josie. Every time they hear your voice they get excited.”
“Really?” she says, her voice squeaking. “Hi, Babies, Auntie Josie loves you!” She bends down, resting her palms on my stomach. Of course, she feels the moment my stomach tightens, and hears my sharp intake of breath at the sudden pain. “Marley…” she warns.
I can’t say anything, because the pain doesn’t lessen this time, it gets worse. I hold up my finger, trying to breathe through the wave. Less than a minute later, it’s done, and I’m working to catch my breath. “All good,” I say, with a pursed smile, trying to convince both myself, and Josie.
“Not good,” Josie replies.
Marissa furrows her brows. “I think Josie’s right, Marley. You should go get some rest, and maybe call your doctor.”
I huff out a breath, and tears fill my eyes. I know they’re right. With a shaky voice, I say, “Can you call Beau to come pick me up?”
“Yes,” Josie breathes. “Marissa, what do you need from me?”
“Not a thing. I’ll go update the bride and let her know you’re okay, but you need to go home. She’s so sweet, I’m sure she won’t mind at all.” Marissa takes my hand in hers, squeezing my palm. “You need to take care of yourself.”
I nod in reply, my throat tightening. Josie’s already got her phone to her ear, and I can just barely hear Beau through the phone, his voice is edgy and concerned. I don't want to be so emotional right now, but tell that to my hormones. Marissa tells me she will update me later on the rest of the event and that she wants an update from me as well. She gives me a quick hug, and then she’s off, heading down to the cellar.
Josie takes my hand, still on the phone with Beau, and leads me to the front lobby of the venue. There’s a few leather couches against the walls, and Josie deposits me in one. She finishes the conversation with Beau, and then points her finger at me. “Don’t move. I’m going to get you some water and find Megan. Put your damn feet up, please.”
“I will,” I agree and do as she says. She nods when she sees me following directions, and then she hurries out of the room.
My own cell rings in my pocket, and I pull it out, adjusting myself so I can take my camera harness off my shoulders. Unsurprisingly, Beau’s name is on the screen.
I swipe my finger across the screen to answer the call. “Hi,” I say.
“Butterfly, are you okay?” Beau asks, his voice is thick, and I can hear the sound of a car door slamming in the background.
“I’m fine, really. I just pushed myself a little too hard, and I’m having some Braxton-Hicks contractions. Nothing major.” I lean my head back onto the couch, closing my eyes. The heat from outside is making its way in, forcing the air conditioning to work overtime to keep up. Luckily, I’m right under a vent, so I have a nice cool breeze on my sweaty skin.
“Don’t downplay this, Mar. Call the nurse line, and tell them what's going on. If you need to go in, I want to know right away so we can stop by on the way home.”
“I will. I’ll call as soon as we hang up,” I tell him honestly. I have another contraction right as I finish my sentence and I inhale sharply.
“Shit,” I hear Beau murmur. “Are you having another one?”
I nod, but he can’t see me, obviously.
His voice is panicked. “Just breathe, I’ll be there as soon as I can. It’s okay,” he repeats, over and over until it passes.
“I’m good now,” I say on a heavy breath. “Just wasn’t expecting that one.”
“I’ll be there soon.”
“Thank you,” I murmur. “I’m in the front lobby.” We say goodbye, and I immediately pull up the phone number for the nurse line.
Halfway through the conversation and endless questions, Josie strides back into the room, this time with Megan and Isaac in tow, and Jason, who I’m surprised to see. Megan and Josie sit on either side of me on the couch.
I finish the conversation with the nurse, who has determined I should come in, just to be monitored for a little bit to make sure it’s not active labor.
“Well?” Josie asks when I hang up the phone.
“They want me to come in. Just for evaluation though. She doesn’t think I’m in active labor, but since things are a bit more risky with twins, she wants to be sure.” I rest my phone on top of my bump. Jason sits on the coffee table next to my legs, hands clasped in his lap.
Megan nods. “After Josie told me what was happening, I figured that would be the case.” As a family medicine doctor, Megan has a bit of experience in all ends of the spectrum, including a bit of women’s health and obstetrics.
I rest my hands over my lap, tilting my head back to let the cool air hit my face and neck. I take a steadying breath, unsure of why I feel like crying. Is it nerves? What if I’m really in labor? I’m not ready.
“Marley,” Jason’s deep voice pulls me out of my internal panic. I raise my head to look at him. Jason has always been the big brother I needed. My own older brothers didn’t seem to care about me or our family. They didn’t even have a reaction to finding out they were going to be uncles, other than to ask who the father was, and give a disgruntled groan when I told them it was Beau. Jason’s brown eyes look so much like Beau’s that my heart squeezes. “Do you need anything? Hungry? Thirsty?”
I shake my head. “I’m okay, really. I’m tired, but otherwise, I think I’m okay.” He pats my legs that are still resting on the coffee table. Isaac is hovering behind Jason, eyes round with worry.
“You sure?” Jason asks. “I can always get Thomas to give you a police escort. You know he’d do it.”
That elicits a small laugh from me. “No, I promise I’m okay. If things get worse, I’ll let you know.”
He nods. “I’m sticking around until Beau gets here.” Like I said, big brother.
The tears that went away are back now, this time streaming down my cheeks. “Why are you even here?” I ask, my voice shaking as I come to the realization that I don’t know why he is here.
Jason chuckles. “It’s the first wedding we are serving Blue Ox at. I was over at the bar when I caught Josie running like a madwoman through the reception area.”
Josie leans forward, smacking his bicep. “Hey now, I was on a mission. As soon as I told you what was happening, you were running faster than I was.”
“I’m not denying it.”
As he speaks, Fallon rounds the corner, her face red and flushed. “Josie!” she calls across the lobby. “We need you, one of the drunken cousins knocked over the flower arch.”
Josie huffs out a sigh. “Call me with an update or if you need anything. Okay?” She pulls me into a quick hug. “Keep those buns in the oven.”
“I will,” I tell her with a nod.
She runs off toward Fallon, Isaac follows, explaining, “I should check on things if there’s already a drunken cousin.”
I wave him off. Jason stands from the coffee table, sitting next to me on the couch. Megan stays by my side as well.
Jason is typically not a man who brings up his past or his ex, but for some reason, he does. “When Talia was pregnant with Lennie, she got those early ‘practice contractions’ all the time.” He uses air quotes over the words. “She had a super low pain tolerance, so we were going into the hospital every other day, it seemed.”
The words ding like a light bulb in my brain. “Oh yeah. I remember that now. How did she do during her actual labor?”
Jason rolls his eyes. He leans forward so his elbows rest on his knees. “Lots of screaming. Lots of begging for drugs and lots of curse words.”
“That’s usually the norm, though,” Megan tries to say.
Jason shakes his head. “Not like this. The doctors struggled with how to tell her no, that she was maxed out on her meds, and there was nothing else they could do. I knew she’d had a problem with drugs in the past, but never realized it was that bad. She swore she was clean and ready to be done with that life. I should have seen it coming. Three months after Lennie was born, she fell off the deep end.”
I reach out, squeezing Jason’s arm. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known, Jason.”
He shrugs. “Lennie is safe, and that’s all that matters, right?”
I nod. “Yep.” My stomach tightens, as well as my grip on Jason’s arm. Leaning forward a bit, I close my eyes. I squeeze hard as the pain wraps around my belly, stronger and longer than any other one I’ve had. Taking my hand, Megan coaches me through breathing. In the distance, thundering footsteps sound, and then Megan’s hand is replaced with a familiar one, and Beau’s voice is murmuring reassuring words into my ear.
It passes and I pry my eyes open. Beau has one hand in mine, one resting on my round stomach. “Hi,” I whisper. His eyes are dark, worry evident on his face. “Should we go?”
“Probably,” he says. “I didn’t even turn the car off, and I left my door open. It’s a good thing we know the owner or I’d probably be getting towed right now.”
I chuckle softly. “Probably.” I let go of Jason’s arm, noting the red marks on his skin from my fingers. “Sorry,” I say, gesturing at his arm.
Jason laughs. “Nothing to be sorry about, Mar. If you guys need anything, let me know.” He stands, making a show of rubbing his arm. I swat at his leg and he chuckles. Beau stands from where he was kneeling in front of me, giving his oldest brother a hug.
Megan stands, reaching out her hand to me again, and I take it. I already know that getting out of the deep leather couch is going to be difficult. Beau turns his attention to me and takes my other hand.
They help me up, and I cringe slightly in embarrassment at just how much help I need. Beau grabs my cameras and harness from the coffee table, and leads me toward the automatic doors of the lobby. Megan helps get me in the car despite my protests, and thankfully with the car still running, the AC is blowing cold right in my face. I sink into the cloth seat as Beau gets in the driver seat.
As soon as he’s buckled, he’s driving. “Are they happening in more of a pattern?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, still inconsistent, but getting a bit stronger.”
Beau’s hair is a mess, like he’s been running his hands through it every five seconds. “Okay. And they want you to come in?”
“Yeah. They want to monitor for a bit, even though she thinks it’s just Braxton-Hicks.”
“Good.”
Beau reaches over, taking my hand in his, his thumb drawing circles on my skin as he drives. We’re nearly to the birth center when I’m hit with another contraction. I squeeze his hand involuntarily, trying so hard to focus on my breathing. If this isn’t real labor, I’m terrified of what real contractions feel like cause these are a pain in the ass. They aren’t world ending, but they definitely aren’t comfortable.
Beau coaches me through it, and when it’s done, I lean back, taking deep breaths. “That one didn’t seem too bad,” Beau says, squeezing my fingers.
I turn my gaze toward him, my eyes wide and irritation flooding through my body, because oh my god? This man is telling me that it “ didn’t seem too bad ?”
“Are you serious?” I ask.
He spares a glance at me, and I see the shift in his demeanor. “No,” he stammers. “I just mean… Shit. I mean that compared to the one at the winery, this one wasn’t as long. It didn’t seem like it hurt as much.” I can tell he’s regretting his words, but fuck, I’m irritated.
“Do you have two babies suddenly occupying your ball sack, and squeezing the shit out of it every twenty minutes? If so please enlighten me on how I’m feeling right now.” I pause, waiting for him to give me some sort of answer. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t. “No? That’s what I fucking thought.”
I don’t let him reply. I turn as best I can in my seat, and watch the scenery as we make the last bit of the drive toward the birth center.