by N. A. Alcorn
Ellen provides Lizzy with a death stare before adding, “Do you even remember how much I weighed when Mom had me?”
Lizzy shakes her head.
“I weighed nine pounds. So seeing as I was a big baby and Trent could have been considered a toddler, I’m convinced that Lucy is going to be huge. My vagina is never going to be the same!” Ellen’s eyes are starting to fill with tears. “I’m going to be the definition of that saying, ‘it’s like throwing a hot dog down a hallway!’” Ellen sobs at the top of her voice, causing people to peer cautiously in her direction.
My best friend’s pregnancy has honestly done nothing for her sanity. She is quite literally losing it right here on her yoga mat and I’m not sure what to say to her at this point. Ellen has a point. Both she and Trent were big babies, and her pregnant belly has truly grown to a shocking size in the past month. And in regards to the vagina comment, I’m a little concerned for her. No woman wants her snatch to change into something resembling ground beef after having a baby. Could you imagine pushing out a ten-pound child? That seems like a recipe for disaster, like something that could leave your vagina large enough to use as a handbag. Hell, a ten-pound child could leave someone’s hoo-hah as roomy as a three-bedroom apartment with walk-in closets. My brain automatically starts thinking of loose vagina scenarios…
I don’t need a purse. I’ll just put my wallet inside my gaping hole of a vagina.
No worries. We’ve got plenty of room for you and your kids to stay over at our house during Christmas. Your kids can sleep on the bunk bed…that I keep inside of my vagina.
I think my internal reproductive clock just shut itself off and ran off to Walgreens to stock up on condoms and spermicidal lube.
“Amy, you better stop thinking about what my vagina is going to look like after I have Lucy right now!” Ellen is no longer sobbing and is currently mean-mugging me with a ferocity I’m finding myself a little scared of.
I hold my hands in the air, attempting to calm her crazy ass down. “I was not thinking about your vagina. Anyways, even if your child is fourteen pounds, I’m sure your physician will be able to sew your snatch back so tight you’ll feel like a virgin again.”
Lizzy and Ellen are now looking at me with shocked expressions on their faces, both of their jaws nearly touching the ground.
“What?” I ask in confusion.
“I think it’s a good idea to get off this subject and chat about something else,” Lizzy suggests carefully.
“So I masturbated to Chris Pine in that Star Trek movie last night,” I hurriedly say, hoping it will get Ellen’s mind off of the number of stitches her poor vagina is going to need after she delivers Lucy.
Ellen’s eyes go wide and Lizzy just shakes her head.
“What? I did. His eyes are ridiculous and I’m shocked I was even able to rub one out to him considering there weren’t any sex scenes in that movie. I mean, what a bummer, right? What’s the point of putting Chris Pine in a movie if you’re not going to have him naked and banging some hot actress?”
“I really don’t understand how I can still get shocked with the things that come out of your mouth,” Ellen announces.
I just shrug my shoulders and continue stretching out my legs.
The yoga instructor finally takes her place in the front of the class, promptly ending the conversation between us. She’s a middle-aged woman with a voice that’s far too perky for my liking. She keeps constantly making weird comments that I’m assuming she considers encouraging, and I’m finding myself more annoyed by the minute.
“There you go! Stretch those bodies to the limits! Stretchy stretch your little hearts out!”
“Feed your souls with yoga! Nourish your joints!”
“You’ve got a fever and the only cure is more yoga!”
Really? Is she really using a line from a Saturday Night Live sketch to motivate us?
“Your body is a temple and yoga is the Buddha! Show Buddha how much he means to you!”
What. The. Fuck?
“Push it! Push it! Puuuuuuuuush it!”
Okay, now that last one has me singing Salt-N-Pepa in my head. This lady is nuts. I’m not sure how much more of this class I’m going to be able to take before I decide to stand up and do everyone a favor by choking her until she passes out.
“I want everyone in downward dog. Feel it. Feel the position. Feel the intensity. Feel your body lose control.”
“I’m going to kill her,” I whisper to Ellen. She starts laughing uncontrollably.
“No seriously, I’m going to strangle her right here in front of the entire class and I’m going to tell her, ‘Feel it, Feel me slowly killing you. I’ve got a fever and the only prescription is to shut you the fuck up,’” I spat out in irritation.
Ellen’s chuckles are now so loud that she is snorting. She’s gasping for air as tears stream down her cheeks. Then Ellen does something that has Lizzy and me rolling on the floor in hysterics while simultaneously gagging.
She farts.
She farts so loud that I swear the entire yoga class heard her ass screaming for attention. Lizzy and I look at her with wide eyes and she just continues to keep her pregnant ass in downward dog position while shrugging her shoulders.
“Oh my god! What did you eat?” Lizzy starts to dry heave.
Our little threesome of ridiculousness has stirred quite the curious attention from the rest of the class. I’m holding my nose and doing my best to mouth breath, but even with that, I swear I can taste shit particles floating in the air.
“Seriously, Ellen! I’m about to vomit all over my yoga mat.”
“Eh, I’m nine months pregnant, bigger than a dairy cow, and my child’s head is so huge that it’s pressing on my asshole. Excuse me for not being able to hold that one back. I literally have lost all function of my bodily organs. I probably pissed on myself too.” She’s completely nonchalant about it, and I think I just fell in love with my best friend.
I notice the guy in front of us peering back at Ellen.
“What are you looking at, ass-clown? Eyes back towards the front of the room! This pregnant woman has no problems with farting in your face!” Ellen hollers at him, instantaneously causing his eyes to speedily dart away from her.
“I really think it would be in your best interest if you keep the inappropriate comments and behavior to a minimum,” a young girl whispers back to Ellen.
Oh shit.
“Ohhhhh! This chick thinks she knows what’s in my best interest! Well, I’ll tell you what’s not in my best interest. Your stupid face staring back at me!” Ellen is now sitting up on her yoga mat, shooting death glares towards this very idiotic girl who decided to go toe-to-toe with a hormonal pregnant woman. “What are you going to do? Tell the yoga instructor on me?” Ellen smacks her chest with both hands, indicating she’s ready to throw down.
Lizzy and I peek at each other in complete shock, and I’m secretly wishing I had my phone out so I could record this beautiful moment. The young girl’s eyes are the size of saucers, and I can tell she’s unsure of what to say now.
Her stunned silence doesn’t stop Ellen’s rampage. “Go ahead, Tattle Tits! Fucking tell on me! Go on up there and tell the yoga instructor that I farted in your face and told you to go fuck yourself!”
“Uh, but you didn’t?” The girl sputters out, and her tone is a combination of confusion and nervousness.
Ellen starts to stand up. Well, she’s trying to stand up, but her pregnant belly is making it difficult for her to gain the momentum needed to complete the task at hand. “Oh, but I’m going to! Once I get my fat ass off this god damn yoga mat!”
Lizzy and I manage to stop Ellen before she launches herself at that cum twat. But that little rampage promptly ends our time at the yoga studio. That is first time I’ve ever been kicked out of a yoga class. Let me clarify, that is the first time I’ve ever been kicked out and banned for life from a workout establishment. We are quickly escorted out of the studio by se
curity. They lead us into a closed office, where they take our mug shots to keep on file and then adamantly tell us to never step foot on the premises again.
In that moment, I couldn’t be more proud of my best friend.
Lizzy and I drive Ellen home. She is way too worked up to get behind the wheel of a vehicle. We also decide to pick her up a pint of ice cream before dropping her off. Just for good measure. The ice cream manages to soften her around the edges and hopefully makes her tolerable to be around for the rest of the night. Good luck, Trent.
As Lizzy takes a left turn onto the main road, my phone pings with a text message notification.
James: How was yoga?
Me: Ellen went on a rampage and managed to get us kicked out.
James: WHAT?
Me: Seriously.
James: I’m leaving the hospital now. I’ll pick up a pizza on my way to your place and you
WILL tell me EVERYTHING.
His response makes me snort in laughter.
Me: Alright, alright. I want the BBQ chicken pizza this time.
James: You got it. See ya in 30 min.
“Is James coming over tonight?” Lizzy asks as she switches lanes, her eyes still fixed on the road.
“Yeah, he’s bringing pizza. You should eat with us,” I suggest with enthusiasm. Despite the fact that we didn’t exactly get to finish our workout, I’m starving and more than ready to crush a disgusting amount of food.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m probably going to head to bed early. I’m making the long trek to Louisville tomorrow morning.” Lizzy pulls the car into the parking spot in front of our lobby door.
“So you’re really doing it? You’re going to spend some time with Matt, give that asshole some closure, and then finally make the divorce official?”
“Yeah, I guess so. He’s adamant about talking it out one last time, and I hope this will give him what he needs to move on.” She turns the engine off and starts to get out of the car.
My hand grabs her wrist and she stops immediately. Her head turns back towards me and I can tell she’s pretty torn up over all of this. “Just remember that I’m here for you, always,” I offer with a sympathetic smile.
“I know, Amy. I’m so thankful to have you in my corner.”
Her soon-to-be ex-husband is an asshole. I wish he would realize the hell he continues to put her through. Lizzy doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. She deserves to finally get what she wants and to be happy. As I follow her into our apartment, I’m convinced that if anything ridiculous happens during her trip to Louisville, I’ll have no qualms with driving down there and beating the shit out of him.
Watch out, Matt Montgomery.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“No amount of carpet cleaner could remove afterbirth stains from your carpet.” - Amy
“You don’t look so good.” I’m watching Ellen clutch her abdomen and pant heavily through what is most likely a contraction. She’s now two weeks away from her due date and looks like she is ready to pop.
Ellen holds up her hand, exhaling deeply. “I’m fine. It’s normal to have contractions in the last few weeks of your pregnancy.”
“Uh, yeah, but it’s not normal to have to breathe through them and not be able to carry on a conversation until they pass,” Lizzy responds as she skips the previews on the movie we just sat down to watch.
Since Lizzy is finally back from her trip to Louisville and thankfully in good spirits, we decided to have a girls’ night with Ellen at our apartment. It sounds like the time she spent with Matt gave enough closure for the both of them. She updated me that he’s ready to move the divorce process along and I couldn’t be happier for her. She deserves this. Lizzy can finally take that final step towards changing her life for the better. She’s about to reach the point where she can start living her life exactly the way she wants, without having to worry about her old life in Louisville.
We’ve got a few romantic comedies lined up and an extra-large pizza decked with every topping imaginable. Basically, this girls’ night is an excuse to gorge ourselves on junk food and catch up. Lizzy, Ellen, and I haven’t had a lot of opportunity to hang out the past few months and we finally found the time to fix this problem.
All of the men in our lives are busy. It’s been established that I’m at a point where I can admit that James is an important part of my life, but we’re still only speaking from a friendship perspective. Nothing has changed between us. James and Trent are both on call tonight. Before Ellen arrived, James sent me a text message complaining about all of the calls he was getting for his post-op patients that are currently recovering in the hospital. And Ellen said that Trent had already been called into the hospital before she even left their apartment. Sounds like Dr. Idiot and Dr. Thrust Me will stay busy for the rest of the night.
And Lizzy’s boyfriend Ryder—who she still refuses to call her boyfriend and adamantly says that they are just friends—is out of town. Now that her divorce is almost final, the only thing that seems to hold her back from being in a full-fledged relationship with Ryder is their age difference. This is something that the old prude-and-proper Lizzy would have never let happen. I’m hoping that the new Lizzy will finally see past her stupid hang-ups and realize that Ryder is a pretty awesome guy and she should give him a shot.
I peer over at Ellen. She’s still panting heavily through another contraction. I’d lay money on the fact that she is heading into active labor. “These are not Braxton Hicks contractions, Ellen. These are full-on active labor contractions,” I express with concern as I touch her belly with my hands. Her stomach tightens up like a bowling bowl.
“Seriously, stop touching me, dickhead. These are normal. Everyone has these when they’re nearing their due date,” Ellen rasps out. Her face is beet red and I notice a few drops of sweat creasing her brow.
“You’re right. Everyone has these when they’re nearing their due date and in labor.”
“Ellie, I think Amy’s right. You look like you’re in labor right now,” Lizzy adds as she grabs the remote control and puts the movie on pause.
“Shut up!” Ellen spits out angrily as she starts to pant even more heavily.
“All right, labia face. I get that those contractions probably hurt like a motherfucker, but I don’t feel like cleaning up afterbirth off of my carpet because you refuse to admit that you’re in labor. There is no carpet cleaner on the planet that could get out stains from having your amniotic fluid and placenta pushed out onto my living room floor.” I kneel in front of Ellen, observing her with apprehension.
A slight giggle escapes her mouth once her contraction ends. “I’m in fucking labor and all you’re worried about is making sure I don’t stain your carpet!”
A-ha! I knew I’d get her to admit it!
I pat her thigh affectionately. “No, fucko. I was just goading you into admitting to us that you’re in labor, which you finally did.” I grin wide and Lizzy chuckles next to me.
Ellen looks back and forth between us and shakes her head. “You guys are assholes.”
“I’ve been timing these contractions, Ellie, and they’re now three to four minutes apart. I really think we need to get you to the hospital,” Lizzy mentions with unease.
“No! I’m not going to the hospital! It’s not time yet!” Ellen wails loudly before starting to huff through another contraction.
“Okay, well if you’re refusing to go to the hospital, then you at least need to let me check you to make sure you’re not too far dilated,” I demand. I really do not want to do that, but I’m hoping it will freak her out enough that she’ll agree to go to the hospital.
Ellen’s jaw drops and her face scrunches up in disgust. “Hell! No! There is no way I’m letting you shove your hand up my snatch to check my cervix! Are you crazy?”
Oh thank you, Jesus!
“Well then, if you’re not going to let me check you, then you need to get your ass off my couch and in the car. Don’t think Lizzy and I
can’t hold down a pregnant woman and I sure as hell don’t feel like reenacting a home birth right here in my apartment. You’re not going to deliver Lucy like a wild animal on National Geographic. My landlord already despises me enough. The last thing I need is for him to find out my best friend shit all over the carpet while she was pushing a baby out of her vagina.”
“Oh my god! Seriously! Did you really have to include the comment about me crapping all over the place during the birth of my daughter?” Ellen shrieks out in frustration.
“Dear god, Amy, let’s not try to freak her out, okay?” Lizzy adds quietly.
I look at Ellie with remorse. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. You’re not going to shit all over the baby during the delivery. Everything is going to go picture perfectly because we’re going to head to the hospital right now. We’re going to meet our Lucy today!”
Ellen’s eyes go wide with shock. “I’m going to have a baby today.”
I decide that now is the time to take action and get her pregnant ass moving. Lizzy and I hurriedly drag Ellen into my car and make our way towards Regency Hospital. Lizzy sends Trent a text letting him know we’re heading his direction with a panting, red-faced, screaming pregnant woman. Once we got Ellen into the car, she moved from the shell-shocked stage to the shouting-profanities stage.
“Motherfucking donkey taints!”
“I’m going to strangle Trent with my bare hands!”
“Fuck your mother!”
“Sweet mother of giraffe scrotums!”
As I pull into the parking lot of the hospital, I’m getting a little worried that my best friend is much further along into labor than she probably even realizes. And I’m disturbed that she’s screaming about giraffe scrotums.
She’s sweating and yelling and hardly able to keep her ass in the passenger’s seat.