by Claire Kent
“You’re not nearly as jittery as I am. How’s Seth?”
The abrupt change of subject caught her off guard. “He’s fine.”
Her father came over to sit beside her on the couch. Patted her knee. “I’m sorry he’s not here.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ve got you, don’t I?”
He gave her a sympathetic smile that made her throat knot up again. “Yeah. Of course you do, but I don’t think being with your old dad is exactly the same.”
His understanding made her feel ridiculously emotional again, but she clamped down over the feeling. “It’s better. I’m so glad you’re here, Dad.”
“I know,” he said, putting his arm around her. “But it’s still not the same.”
***
Nine hours later, Erin could barely register Seth’s existence in the world. At least, in this particular moment.
She could barely register the existence of anything, except the cresting pain of the contraction she was presently trying to breathe her way through.
The minor discomfort of her earlier contractions was now forgotten completely. They had been nothing. Almost laughable compared to this. She couldn’t let herself think about how the contractions were going to get progressively worse, get progressively longer and closer together. For endless more hours.
This one contraction was bad enough.
She was on her bed in the hospital. Lying on her left side with her knees drawn up toward her belly. Trying to breathe in the way she was supposed to. Attempting to focus only on breathing, as the pain—for which there was no adequate comparison—peaked and then started to recede.
She and her father had gotten to the hospital two hours ago. There had been a flurry of activity when she’d first arrived. She’d been examined, given various tests, been hooked up to a monitor to check the baby’s heart, and other things she couldn’t even remember.
She’d been in some pain then—although not as much as she was now—but she’d basically been excited and restless. Things had finally been moving, and she’d felt motivated, ready to tackle this next challenge.
Now she just wanted the challenge to end.
The initial activity had all died down now, and her suite in the maternity center at the hospital was dim and quiet. They'd even turned off the TV, since the droning sound grated on her nerves.
Erin certainly hadn't needed to complain to Seth about her accommodations. The maternity wing had recently been renovated and restructured in accord with new theories and practices in childbirth, and Erin, thanks to Seth, received the best the hospital had to offer.
Her suite was as nice as one at a hotel—soothingly decorated in medium blues and greens, with a large bed, a sofa, an entertainment center, a little table with two chairs in front of the window, and wooden cabinetry instead of normal hospital décor. It also had a private bathroom with a large sit-down shower and whirlpool tub.
In fact, this suite was nicer than most hotels Erin stayed in.
Unfortunately, the comfort of her surroundings didn’t mean anything to her at the moment. Maybe later she'd be able to enjoy it, but right now she could barely recognize it.
During each contraction, she couldn’t focus on anything except the pain. And she spent the time in between mostly worrying about her father.
He’d been with her constantly for the last nine hours, and so far he was the only support person she had. Liz had car trouble and was still trying to get back to the city.
As the last hour passed, Erin had been getting more and more stressed about how exhausted and drained her father was becoming.
His face was drawn, there were deep shadows around his eyes, his skin was too pale, and his shirt was visibly wet with sweat. Erin knew he hadn’t slept in twenty-four hours—he’d stayed awake even when she’d been able to doze off—and he hadn’t eaten in twelve hours.
And she couldn’t get him to leave her, even briefly.
Every time she had another contraction, he would freeze in place, his face twisted with what looked like agony—as if he were feeling each wave of pain as much as she was.
Then he would pull himself together and encourage her to breathe, but Erin knew he was miserable...because she was.
In the lulls between contractions, she worried more about him than she did about herself.
When the swelling ache of the current contraction finally died down, Erin sucked in a couple of cleansing breaths, trying to will her body to relax.
Her dad wiped her damp face with the cool, wet washcloth that he’d just gone to rinse out again. “Good job,” he murmured hoarsely. “Another one over.”
She shivered a little. She felt so terrible—which was bad enough—but at the same time she was making her dad suffer too.
Which was even worse.
She’d never seen her father look so old and worn and exhausted.
And it was only going to get worse. Her pain was still mostly manageable, but she was pretty sure that wasn’t going to continue indefinitely. What was he going to do if she started screaming or crying?
If Seth had been here, it would have been different. It would have been better. Her dad could have been the proud grandpa on the sidelines—while Seth could have done the hands-on work.
Erin pushed that thought away, not even willing to consider it. Seth wasn't here, and they were doing perfectly fine without him.
Liz was on her way, but she just had to get here soon.
Taking a few more breaths, Erin rolled off her side and then pushed herself up into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.
“Good,” her dad said encouragingly. “Changing positions will help.”
"I need to move around, I think."
"Why don’t we walk some? That helped last time.”
Erin nodded and then eased herself to her feet. Her knees felt a little weak, so she took a moment to get her bearings.
She’d taken one step when she felt another contraction swelling up.
She closed her eyes. Started breathing. Tried to visualize herself surfing on the wave of the contraction. A silly image, since she was imagining herself trying to balance on a surfboard nine months pregnant, but, still, it was something to focus on.
She swayed as the pain became more intense. Felt her father’s arm around her, supporting her, holding her steady. He was murmuring soothing words to her, but she couldn’t really hear them.
She tried to breathe through the pain. It was a different kind of pain than anything she’d ever experienced before—a dull ache that swallowed her entire pelvis, but was far more intense than a dull ache should ever be. She didn’t think she had the dreaded back labor, since her pain didn’t seem to be centered in her back, and for that she assumed she should be grateful.
So far, things were going as well as could be expected. No complications had occurred. She'd been making steady, if slow progress in the dilation of her cervix. And she hadn't yet had to request medication.
She’d like to make it through without medication—mostly because she preferred the idea of not being dependent on anything except herself—but she wasn't absolutely committed to it. She would do whatever she needed to do to get through.
So far, she thought she was doing all right. If only her poor dad wasn’t suffering so much with her.
They walked slowly around the large room for a long time. Members of the hospital staff came in periodically to check on her, but they had a remarkable amount of privacy. And, in this same suite, she’d be able to go through labor, delivery, and recovery—never having to change locations.
After circling several times and suffering through a number of contractions, her dad asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to try the shower or Jacuzzi?”
“Maybe when Liz gets here."
“Liz is here now!”
Her sister breezed into the room, wearing sweats and with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She grinned widely, and she looked so focused and determined one would think she was charging
into battle.
“All panic and despair can now cease,” she announced, throwing her bag on a chair.
When she got closer and saw their tired faces, her enthusiasm softened a little. “Are you all doing all right?”
“Yep,” Erin said, smiling at her sister. She felt like collapsing in relief, so glad was she to see Liz at last, but all she said was, “I'll have you know we’re doing just fine without you.”
“Hmph,” Liz grunted, giving them an exaggerated frown. “But I bet you’ve forgotten all about your breathing. Like this.”
Liz performed her best rendition of the breathing exercises they’d learned, and Erin actually giggled as she watched her sister’s exaggerated performance.
But she stopped giggling when she felt another contraction approach. She held onto her dad.
“You’re not breathing,” Liz said, jumping immediately into the fray.
So Erin breathed through the contraction, feeling a new burst of determination prompted by Liz’s boundless energy.
It didn’t take the pain away, though, and Erin was shaking when it passed.
“Damn,” Liz muttered, twisting her lips sympathetically. “That doesn’t look any fun.”
Erin managed to snort.
“I think she wants to try the shower or tub.” Her dad wiped his wet forehead with his sleeve.
“Sounds like a good idea,” Liz agreed, turning her head to look at him. When her eyes focused on his face, her expression changed. “Damn, Dad, you look like death.”
He did. Their poor father looked absolutely heartbreaking.
But he frowned. “I’m perfectly fine. I’ve been coddled enough by your sister, who has far bigger things to worry about than me.”
“Can you at least go get something to eat, now that Liz is here?” Erin asked.
He hesitated briefly before he nodded. “Okay. But I’ll be back to make sure you’re all right.”
When he’d left the room, Liz walked with her to the bathroom. “So, no Seth, huh?”
Erin felt the ache in her chest again, the one she’d been trying to ignore. “No. You knew that. He’s in Seattle.”
Liz sniffed. “Well, I would have thought the asshole would come back.”
Erin had been secretly hoping for that too. She hadn’t let herself acknowledge it, but it was one of those faint fantasies that was always on the edge of her mind. She kept pushing it away as nonsense, however.
Seth wasn't coming back. His work was more important to him, and she didn’t need him.
She just kind of wanted him here.
“I don’t care what his excuse was. He could have rescheduled or skipped it if he’d really wanted. He’s just being a selfish bastard.”
They were in the bathroom now, a pleasant, spacious room with a large tub and separate, tiled shower.
“Liz,” Erin chided, slipping off her nightgown as Liz turned on the shower.
“Well, I’m sorry, but this is the birth of his daughter, and he’s sacrificing it for his damned work. It makes me sick.”
Erin wished that Liz would shut up. She felt bad enough as it was. Her sister’s words just stirred up even more pain and resentment.
Another contraction hit before Erin could step into the shower. She clung to a convenient rail and started breathing—hearing Liz move into her coaching mode, doing the breathing exercises with her.
The pain was impossible to wrap her mind around. It felt like her pelvis was going to drop out. Erin was wet with new sweat when the pain finally passed, and she really hoped the shower would help. Something had to help.
Liz helped her in, and Erin let the warm water wash over her body.
At first, it felt heavenly, rinsing away the perspiration, the tension, and the fatigue of so many hours.
“How is it?” Liz asked. She was standing just outside the shower.
“Good.” Erin just stood under the cascading water, letting it fall on her face. Then she turned around. Let it pound on her back. She took cleansing breaths and refused to think about Seth.
“Well,” Liz said, picking up the previous conversation as if it had never ended, “all I can say is that he better not be indulging in depravity while you're suffering like this.”
“What?” Erin gaped at Liz through a slight opening of the shower curtain. Felt her gut lurch in a sickening way.
“In Seattle,” Liz explained, scowling at the thought. “He’s probably terrified by all of this and confused by all his new feelings for the pumpkin. And for you, for that matter. So I can see him trying to run away from all of it. Men do that sometimes, you know. He just better not be running away by fucking some tramp on the other side of the country while you’re here having his baby.”
“Shut up, Liz,” Erin muttered, trying to ignore the words as if they’d never been spoken. She tried not to conjure up a visual to match them.
What was Seth doing right now?
Erin wasn’t going to think about that.
She would think only about her daughter. Who was finally going to be born.
Who meant more to her than Seth ever would.
It helped for a minute or two.
But, shortly, another contraction began to develop.
Erin felt it coming, so she moved to hang on to the support rail in the shower. Liz was telling her to breathe.
Erin breathed as she was supposed to. But, as the pain swept over her, the water became an irritant. It had felt good before, but now it seemed to hammer on her skin.
It was bad enough to be tired and overwhelmed and in pain.
It was even worse to be tired and overwhelmed and in pain and naked and soaking wet.
While Seth was in Seattle, maybe fucking someone else.
She gasped and trembled when the contraction finally ended. “I don’t like it,” she whimpered, hating how helpless she sounded. “I don’t like it. Turn it off.”
Liz immediately turned the water off. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice more sympathetic than normal. “I guess that was a bust.”
Erin felt like crying. Was very close to doing so. “I’m tired,” she said, rubbing her wet face with her wet hands. She stood in the shower, dripping and utterly miserable. “I want to go lie back down now.”
“Okay,” Liz said, grabbing a towel and trying to wrap it around Erin. “Do you want to try the whirlpool tub? That might feel better than the shower.”
“No,” Erin snapped, lashing out irrationally even though she tried to stop herself. “I don’t want to. I told you. I want to lie down.”
“All right,” Liz said patiently. “Let me just help you dry off.”
Erin was wrestling with so much emotion—all rising up inside her—that she felt like a little girl again, trying to fight off tears with a temper-fit. “Stop,” she demanded, pushing Liz and the towel away. “I want to lie down.”
“Well, you’re soaking wet,” Liz began, trying to come at her. “Just let me—”
“What the hell are you doing?” The voice was male, angry, authoritative.
And very familiar.
The man who’d spoken strode into the bathroom. “She said she wanted to lie down.”
Liz spun around, still holding out the towel like a present. Her mouth dropped open, and she froze in place for a moment.
Erin just burst into tears.
She took one step and collapsed against Seth, sobbing in short, tight jerks against his chest. He wore a blue dress shirt and black trousers, expensive clothes that were now rather damp from Erin's body. She was sopping wet and in the middle of painful labor.
But she was so incredibly happy to see him.
Seth put an arm around her and glared coldly at Liz. “You’re supposed to be supporting her, not making her do what she doesn’t want.”
“Don’t you yell at me,” Liz shot back, snapping out of her stunned stupor with her outrage. “I’m the one helping her. You’re the one leaving her when—”
“Stop,” Erin choked, pulling hersel
f together and pulling away from the now wet side of Seth’s body. “Liz was helping,” she explained, looking up at his tense face. “You don't get to be mean to her. She’s been great. I was just being ornery.”
“Well, you’re in labor,” Seth said, gazing down at her with something unusually soft in his eyes. “Being ornery is perfectly understandable.”
Erin was about to respond—no doubt to say something infinitely silly—when she was hit with another contraction.
This time, she clung to Seth. He held her up, and his body felt strong and solid and unshakable. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t even rub her back. But his presence was like a miracle just the same.
Liz talked her through the breathing again, and Erin focused as much as she could in order to get through the contraction.
When she had, she slumped against Seth. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “I came back.”
“But Seattle? The trial—”
Seth shrugged again. “I came back.” He held out a hand and Liz handed him the towel. He wrapped it around Erin. “Did you want to go lie down now?”
Erin nodded mutely and let Liz help her on with her gown. Then she thought of something. “Liz?” she asked. “Would you mind going to find Dad? Make sure he’s all right.”
Liz hesitated, glaring malevolently at Seth.
“It’s fine. Seth knows how to do the breathing too.” Her lips quirked up, making it clear that she was teasing. “I’m so glad you’re here, Liz. But Dad—”
“All right. I’ll be right back.” She stared with narrowed eyes at Seth as she left.
Seth helped her out of the bathroom and over to the bed. She lowered herself down and then rolled over again onto her left side.
Seth had brought a fresh hand towel with him and idly started to towel dry her dripping hair.
“Seth?” Erin whispered, trying to relax and prepare herself for the next contraction.
He wiped a stream of water off the side of her face. “Yes?”
“Why are you here?”
He shook his head. His features were guarded and unreadable, but he said very softly, “I never should have left.”
***
Erin felt like she’d been doing this forever.