Evil bitch.
“Yeah,” I groaned as the next wave hit me. I wasn’t going to be robbed of the pleasure of pointing this out to her though, so I continued, “You’re doing this yourself in a couple of weeks.”
Looking like she was about to rip a handful of hair out of my head, she opened her mouth to say something, but Dave lost his patience. “Will the two of you cut it out? The head’s almost out.”
In my mind, I’d planned to have this baby in a hospital like normal people do. For the first time in my life, I’d wanted something to be normal, and I’d wanted the drugs that would mean I didn’t have to feel the moment a porcupine with blades sticking out of it cut my cooter open.
Instead, I had my baby in the back of my car, ruining the upholstery in my new Toyota C-HR, with my sister holding my hand (finally), and my husband right there for the full HD version of it as I gave birth to Sheena Josephine Bell – a tiny screaming ball of beauty and pandemonium, named after her daddy’s mama, and her beautiful aunt. He didn’t even throw up until the paramedics arrived, and the doctor who’d been passing by got him to cut the cord.
“How about those mammaronis,” Jose snorted, her face appearing over my own.
Ask me if I cared. I’d wear those damn frisbee sized nipples and the huge knockers they sat on with pride.