by Lea Darragh
‘Have your waters broken?’ he said in a rush. ‘Olivia?’
‘No, no, no,’ I said, trying to breathe through it. ‘No fluid … No bleeding … Just pain.’
‘Yes, first pregnancy. About thirty-eight weeks,’ Josh was saying. ‘No, she can’t get up. We need help, now … do you feel the need to push?’ he said to me.
I shook my head. ‘No … am I ok?’
‘They’re sending an ambulance.’
I reached for his hand, gripping it hard. My legs were jelly but I managed to stand. The pain, a true force of nature, was still roaring. Josh wrapped my arm around his shoulder and helped me limp to my bed. No fluid was good. No blood was even better. So what the hell was this then? Another contraction ripped through me.
‘No, she’s on the bed now,’ Josh said.
I shook my head. ‘What?’
‘Oh, I’m still on with the paramedics.’
‘Are they com—’ The pain was stealing my words.
‘They are. It won’t be long.’
I looked up into his face as he sat beside me. Ashen and tight, his eyes focused as he concentrated on me as well as what he was being told on the phone. I managed to smile at him. A gesture meant to reassure. This must have been terrifying for him, too.
‘If this isn’t labour, I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle it when it truly comes,’ I said.
He lowered his face to mine, kissing my forehead. ‘I bet you can handle anything life throws at you.’
Oh, how I wished that were true. We fell quiet, the pain easing a little. I tried to focus on the baby’s movements, but there were none. Was the force of the pain keeping the baby still? Perhaps our baby was sleeping through all of this? It could be … my heart pounded against my chest cavity. My breath was lost to speculation. What if this was it, the start of everything mum promised me would happen?
‘Josh,’ I said, unable to hold back the sob. ‘When will the ambulance get here?’
He dropped to his knees before me. ‘I promise everything will be ok.’
‘You can’t promise that,’ I cried, even though I truly wanted to believe him.
Josh held me until I managed to slow my breaths, until another pain came and went, until I asked him to help me stand when I heard doors closing in the driveway.
‘That must be them,’ Josh said.
He left me on the edge of the bed and let the paramedics in. One of them, introducing herself as Ally, came into the room asking myriad questions that required quick yes/no answers. They were calm, doing their jobs swiftly, until they asked about the movements. Everything changed then. I was whisked out of my house and into the back of the ambulance. Josh stayed with me, as close as he could. I tried to concentrate on talk between Ally and her colleague.
‘So, tell me again, honey, when was the last time you felt movement?’ Ally said, her tone calm, and yet I heard that edge to it, the one that came from a heart in a throat.
‘There was a lot last night …’ I glanced at Josh. ‘I haven’t been awake long, so none today that I’ve felt.’
‘Ok. Have you been under any stress lately? Physical, emotional?’
I watched as Josh dropped his head. ‘I haven’t felt overwhelmed, if that’s what you mean?’
Ally smiled. ‘Perfect.’
‘So, this is normal.’
‘It can be perfectly normal, but we need to get a proper check-up done with an obstetrician. At the hospital, they’ll hook you up to a machine to measure the baby’s heartbeat.’
‘Yes, I’ve had that before.’
‘During your regular appointments?’ Ally said, ready to note my reply on my paperwork.
‘No, at the hospital, at twenty weeks. I felt this same pain, not this bad though.’
‘And what was the outcome of that?’
‘They couldn’t explain it. I haven’t had anything since. As normal as normal can be.’
‘And you’re thirty-eight weeks now?’
‘Just over.’
‘Have you experienced, or is there any family history of stillbirths, or premature births?’
A brief pause as the world stopped. ‘Yes.’
Josh’s head shot up.
‘Not me,’ I said quickly to him, then focused on Ally. ‘My mother had four stillbirths before me.’
‘Oh, poor love,’ Ally said, then offered a smile. ‘She sounds lucky to have you. Good thing you have a quick-thinking partner here.’
‘I didn’t do much,’ Josh said.
‘You did everything right. Still no bleeding?’ Ally said to me.
‘No bleeding.’
‘Excellent. And the pain on a scale of one to ten?’
‘Right now, about a seven. Before, a fifty-five.’
‘It’s good that it’s easing. Make sure you let me know if that changes.’
‘I will,’ I said. ‘Is this normal, really?’
Ally placed the paperwork aside, shifting forward to hold my hand. ‘Labour is different for everyone, but it’s perfectly normal for it to hurt like hell. I have three children,’ she laughed. ‘I can promise you that. What we need to focus on now is the way baby is coping with it.’
‘Am I in labour then?’
‘We’ll know more when you’re hooked up to the monitors. They measure contractions as well as baby’s heartrate.’
‘What happens if the baby is born now, before Olivia is due?’ Josh said.
‘She’s thirty-eight weeks, so she’s considered full term from now on. When baby is ready to be born, baby is ready to be born.’
‘The obstetrician said that movements slow at this time anyway,’ he went on.
‘Yes, that’s right, but you should still feel something. There’s still a little person in there.’
‘You’re concerned then?’ he asked Ally.
‘It’s not an ideal situation, but one we can monitor well, and once at the hospital,’ she said as she peered out the window. ‘Here we are now. Once Olivia is in the hands of an obstetrician, we’ll know more about what we’re working with.’
I was ferried into the hospital as another pain overtook me. Less severe, yet still debilitating. Josh held my hand as I was taken to the maternity ward and hooked up to the machines I was familiar with. My belly was tight, almost as tight as I was holding Josh’s hand. I closed my eyes as the midwife placed the pads in their positions, and I waited, prayed, cried until the room went silent and I finally heard it.
Bomp … ba bomp … ba bomp … ba bomp … ba bomp … ba bomp … ba bomp … ba bomp.
My heart let go and I sobbed. Josh buckled and he dropped his head against mine. I watched as he quickly wiped a tear from his face.
‘Hello in there, baby,’ the midwife said after a collective sigh of relief filled the room. Ally was still with us. She came to me and whispered.
‘All is well, Olivia. You’ll meet this baby soon enough.’
‘Thank you for taking care of me.’
‘My pleasure.’
‘Thanks,’ Josh said, offering his hand. She shook it, smiled down at me then left.
‘I’m going to leave you on these monitors for a little bit and see what this pain is. Could be the early stages of labour. Could be Braxton Hicks,’ she added as she scanned over the read-outs as they printed from the machine. ‘Everything’s looking good. I’ll be back soon to check on you.’
‘Thank you.’
Alone with Josh, I closed my eyes again, listening to our baby thrive in my belly. I heard Josh slide a chair over and he sat without letting go of my hand.
‘Holy shit, Olivia,’ he said as he exhaled. ‘I’ve never been so scared in my entire life.’
I opened my eyes and looked at him. ‘I’ve been told that this is exactly what parenthood feels like one hundred per cent of the time. Apparently you never stop worrying about them, ever, not even when they’re adults. My mum can verify that.’
‘It sounds like your mum has reason enough to worry after all she’s been throug
h.’
I blanched. ‘Oh?’
‘From what you said in the ambulance, I mean, it sounds like she’s been through a lot.’
‘Oh yes, sorry. She’s overbearing with her worry, but it comes from love, so I have to remind myself to go with it.’
‘She must be terrified about what you’re going through,’ he said.
I opened my mouth to clarify the situation when the midwife came in, Dr Baker close behind her.
‘So, what’s going on in here,’ Dr Baker said. ‘This baby practising their entrance, hey?’ She read through the print-outs. ‘How intense is the pain right now?’ she asked.
‘Easing.’
‘Ok, good. You’re measuring minor contractions, but I’m thinking they’d be Braxton Hicks. Baby’s heartbeat is strong and regular. We’ll keep you longer for more observation though.’
Holy crap. ‘Minor?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ Dr Baker laughed. ‘Sorry.’
‘But we’re both fine?’
‘Perfectly.’
‘Thank god for that,’ I said.
‘Everything been ok? Travelling well otherwise?’ she said, glancing at Josh.
‘Yes, of course,’ I said, aware of what she was implying. I held Josh’s hand tighter. ‘Still getting used to the idea of becoming parents soon, but otherwise ok.’
‘Good. The less stress you have, the better, especially with a new baby in the home.’
‘Our child is in good hands, then.’
‘Excellent to hear. Ok, well I’ll leave you with the midwife. I’ll see you at our next appointment?’
‘We’ll be there.’
We were alone again, and Josh sat back in the chair, letting go of my hand. ‘Why do I get the distinct impression that she thinks I’m not good enough for our baby?’
‘She’s protective, that’s all. It’s her job to make sure I’m ok, and that our baby is ok.’
‘But you’re both ok, and I’ve not given any reason for her to think otherwise.’
‘Come here,’ I said. He leaned forward again and took my hand when I offered it. ‘Not everyone is as lucky as us. Some women do this alone, no support from their partners. I did before you came back. I’m sure she’s seen it a thousand times. If she wasn’t that wary of you, then I’d worry.’
‘Fair point, but still, I’m here now.’
I pulled him up so that I could meet his lips with mine. Softly, I kissed him. ‘And that’s all that matters to me.’
He sat back and we listened to the heartbeat. I was relaxing now that everything had settled, and I knew that in a short while we’d be parents, beginning a brand new journey together. When I let my head fall in Josh’s direction, watching as he stared down at a loose thread in his shorts, I hoped he was thinking the same thing.
Chapter 8
The typically peaceful beach in Cobblers Cove had been transformed into Christmas central. The view of the ocean from the esplanade now blocked with stalls and tents, activities for the kids and adults alike. The main street was cordoned off so that revellers could meander their way down past the food trucks. The smells permeating the coastal air were drool worthy. From spit roasts and baked potatoes, fresh hot jam donuts and churros, to pizza and good old faithful chips and gravy. A band was playing Christmas carols. Children giggled and bounced around, high on sugar and pure excitement while they waited for Santa, the star of the night, to arrive. I walked hand in hand with Josh, my other hand holding a quickly dripping ice-cream.
‘You sure you don’t want a lick?’ I said.
‘Do you think it’s safe for kids to be running around like that? I don’t see their parents,’ he said, paying no attention to my offer.
I’d noted he’d been distracted for the past few days since our hospital visit. He’d had so many questions about how I’d know if labour is really happening. And then there was that of whether he would know how to help me during the birth? Typical for an expectant father, but that one question was clearly more about him still not having adjusted to nearing fatherhood rather than what he could do for me. What if something happens to our child, like life-threatening, and I have no idea how to help them … and what if when they start to grow up and they ask me things about life, I don’t have the answers. What if I don’t know how to relate to them, and what if the whole notion that once the child is yours, you’ll know instinctively what to do, is actually a sham, and in fact, we can never truly tell what kind of a parent we’ll be?
They’d been big questions, their heft felt especially when he’d asked them as we lay in bed at 3 am. He’d been stroking my belly, thinking out loud and giving a murmuring, almost inaudible voice to his concerns. I’d rolled over and curved my body around his, showing him that he wasn’t alone.
‘Tell me about your parents,’ I’d said. He remained quiet. ‘Do they know about the baby?’
I felt him shake his head in the darkness, still saying nothing.
I’d leaned over to turn on the lamp, then went back to him. ‘Do you want to know why I didn’t tell you about the baby sooner?’
At this, he shifted his head on the pillow to look at me, waiting. ‘Tell me.’
‘That night when we were together, do you remember the conversation we had down in the dunes?’
‘We talked about a lot.’
‘You told me that you weren’t sure that you ever wanted a family. You said that you weren’t cut out for it, but I never knew exactly what you meant, or why you believed that. That’s why I didn’t tell you, because I thought you’d have rejected me—us. And I knew I wouldn’t have been able to handle that. I know I didn’t initiate telling you, and I was terrified when I opened my eyes and saw you at the baby shower, but at the same time, I felt relieved that you finally knew. I was relieved that maybe I didn’t have to do this scary thing on my own anymore. My point is, it feels so much better when the truth is out. You don’t have to tell me about your parents, or your childhood, but just know that you can if you ever want to. It’ll feel good to lift the weight. I won’t judge. I’m not expecting you to jump in headfirst and instantly know everything there is to know about parenthood. In fact, all I do expect is that you’re honest with me, and to keep me in the loop if you think this isn’t working out between us, or if you decide being a dad truly isn’t for you. I’d rather that than having you feel like you’re living a lie. I never want you to feel stuck. You don’t have to be perfect for anybody, especially yourself, but you do have to be open when it comes to where I stand. I’m saying a lot, I know, but are you following?’ I said as he gazed wide-eyed at me.
‘I think I am,’ he said with a low laugh.
‘Good. And you should also know that we don’t necessarily become who our parents are, if that helps. Just be you, as authentically as you can. Because you’re bloody amazing, Josh.’
We’d kissed and slept and had breakfast between laughter and stories about my over-protective mother. I listened to his reasoning as he tried to convince me to tell her, no matter how scared I was about her response. Which, I thought, was entirely hypocritical. I guess, for the both of us, it’s easier to talk the talk rather than to walk the walk sometimes. I told him about my father whose life’s dream is to meet Monty Don. We’d visited Dr Baker again, and again she asked how Josh was adjusting to the pregnancy. This time he smiled, sat up straight and told her he was feeling more and more excited about it every day. Truthfully, I thought he was telling her what she wanted to hear. I knew deep down that he was trying but wasn’t quite there yet, and I tried to ignore the fact that he might never feel the way I wanted him to. But, I’d let him be, sticking to my promise to never push him. Aside from that, we’d bonded, fell easily into a routine. He stayed at my cottage. Often, I’d find him in the nursery, gazing out the window. It was obvious he needed these moments to reconcile what we were about to go through. I ignored the pull in my heart that tried to prepare me for the possibility that he may never be ready for this.
And now he e
ntwined our fingers and watched as children who seemed under no supervision explored the night with innocent abandon, too distracted to truly live in the moment.
‘Oh my,’ a woman said as we meandered past her stall. Knitted dolls, beanies and scarves, and tiny handmade cardigans were displayed with care. ‘You look like you’re ready to pop, love.’
We stopped; I felt like I was glowing from the inside out. ‘About a week to go,’ I said.
A few months ago I didn’t think I’d cared when strangers would stop me and ask me about my baby, and the little details, about if it was my first, or were my partner and I going to find out what we were having, and I’d have to tell them it was just me. No partner. But having Josh by my side, I felt myself truly enjoying the moment in full, as if all the pieces were in place.
‘Boy or girl?’ she said.
I glanced up at Josh then back at the woman. It felt like my smile was a mile wide. ‘We don’t know yet.’
‘Well,’ she said. ‘Soon enough. Congratulations. Would you like to pick something out? A gift for your little bundle.’
‘Oh, I can buy something. You don’t have to give your lovely things away.’
‘Nonsense. It’s my pleasure. Dad? Would you like to pick something for your baby?’
‘Oh, me? Um,’ Josh stammered, scanning over the items. ‘What size will the baby be in winter?’
The woman picked up a few things. ‘I think one of these should about do it.’
Josh chose one: a cream cardigan with pale wooden buttons. ‘This?’ he asked me.
‘Good choice.’
‘Excellent,’ the lady said as she wrapped it up. After, she handed it to Josh. ‘It’s normal to feel weird about parenthood, but the confidence will come.’
‘Will it, though?’
She offered a warm smile. ‘Of course.’
‘Do I always look so bloody terrified all the time?’ he said as we started walking again. ‘Everyone seems to know what I’m thinking without me opening my mouth.’
‘I like when I know what you’re thinking without you having to say it. It makes it easy to reassure you.’