“That Jules friend of yours is so smart.”
I nod. “She is.”
“What time are your parents coming?”
“Mom is coming tomorrow. Dad and Taryn are coming the following day. And then it officially begins. The wait. And you know what that means. I will go two weeks late. Everyone will be here, staring at me, watching me every second. It’s going to be the worst.”
“Your doctor won’t let you go two weeks late.”
“I hope not. She’s awfully chill. I can see her letting me go until the baby comes out a toddler.”
After leaving Jules’s house, I stop by the grocery store to restock since Dad and Taryn will be staying with me until the baby’s born. Mom’s staying with Chloe and Mason until the birth and for a week after the birth.
As I walk around the store, I feel some growing discomfort. Pain in my lower abdomen. A little twinge on my right side. Aisle by aisle, it increases in intensity.
I’m a week early. This isn’t labor. Is it? Mom went nearly two weeks late with both Chloe and me, but when she did go into labor, it happened very quickly. And that thought is what makes me pull my phone out of my purse.
“I was just going to call you,” Chloe says, answering on the first ring. “Is everything okay?”
“Don’t freak out, but—”
“OH MY GOSH! OH MY GOSH! MASON! IT’S TIME! Are you okay? Is everything okay. We’ll head to your house right now to get you.”
It’s impossible not to laugh a little, but at the same time I cringe because these have to be contractions I’m having. And they are close together. Chloe’s excitement once again reaffirms that I’ve done something truly good with my life.
“I’m …” I lean onto the shopping cart and take a few breaths. “I’m at the grocery store.”
“Which store?”
“Trader Joe’s … Lincoln Village.”
“We’re already in the car. Don’t hang up. Stay on the line.”
Again, I laugh and cringe at the same time.
Abandoning my cart, I waddle to my car, stopping to bend forward and rest my hands on my knees when a contraction hits.
“Breathe, Sophie. Slow in. Slow out.” Chloe’s managed to calm herself down and be the soothing voice I need.
When I collapse into the passenger seat of my car, I put her on speaker and text Shep.
Me: I’m in labor. Can you go to my house and get my bag and the baby blanket? Can you take care of Cersei?
Shep: On it! Breathe, Sophie xo
“I’m texting Mom and Dad. I don’t think they’ll make it, so I’m going to tell them not to try,” Chloe says. “Are you breathing?”
“Uh-huh …” This hurts way more than I anticipated. “Oh … shit …” I reach between my legs.
“Oh shit what? What happened?” Panic resurrects in Chloe’s voice.
“My water broke.”
“That’s fine. Totally fine. Just don’t push. Don’t you dare push.”
“Chloe, I …” I stutter, frozen in pain as another contraction grips me. It hurts. This has gone zero to a hundred quickly. Too quickly.
I try to focus on something besides the pain as I wait. When they arrive, Mason helps me into the back of their minivan and speeds off toward the hospital.
Everything blurs upon our arrival. It feels like a calm chaos. I don’t see straight; the pain is so intense.
“I heard you want to push.” Dr. Munson moseys into the room as the nurse helps her slide into a gown and gloves.
“Y-yeah …” I grimace, and Chloe squeezes my hand harder than I’m squeezing hers.
Dr. Munson checks me. “Nice, Sophie. You’re doing amazing. And when you want to push, I want you to listen to your body and push.”
“I need s-something for the p-pain …”
Dr. Munson chuckles. “Sorry, Sophie. This baby is ready to come into the world now. And you’re going to do it just fine without anything for the pain.”
My next breath is completely robbed by the urge to push.
I don’t have time to stop, to think, or really do much careful listening to my body. I just push with every contraction until the familiar cry of a baby fills the room.
“It’s a boy!” Chloe yells, kissing my head and my cheek over and over again as tears flood her cheeks. “Thank you,” she whispers repeatedly. “Soph … oh my god … th-thank you.”
She cuts the cord. Then she and Mason follow the nurse to the other side of the room where they check over the baby while Dr. Munson tends to me.
“You know,” Dr. Munson says as she presses on my tummy, “I truly believe there’s a special place in heaven for women like you.”
I stare at Chloe as the nurse swaddles the baby and places him in his mother’s arms. He is not my child. He is my nephew. Chloe’s egg. Mason’s sperm. And I will be in his life for as long as I live. But still, right now, I feel empty. This isn’t a surprise. I should have expected this. We were counseled on this beforehand. It’s just not something one can truly prepare for, like I couldn’t really imagine what it would feel like to push a baby out of my body until it was happening.