“Just to do inventory and payroll,” he confirms, as he combs his hair in the dresser mirror I’m trying to clean. I feel another pinch that makes me scrunch my face and grunt a little. “You okay?” he asks, halting his movements with concern in his eyes.
“Yeah,” I assure him as I rub my belly again. “Just a little twinge.”
He stares at me for a minute before saying, “Alright, I’m going to keep it short at work; just going to make sure the books are all squared away then I’m coming right back and I’m all yours for the next three weeks.”
“I thought you were going to work until she’s born,” I remind him.
“Yup,” he gives me a cocky smile, looking between my face and my belly.
“Tyler, that was just one contraction.”
“And you’re a week late, you’re fidgety as all hell, and I just gave you a nice jump start,” he says, his cocky-meter going through the roof while I walk him to the front door where he kisses my belly and then me. He cups my cheek and gazes sweetly into my eyes. “I love you. I’ve got my phone on full blast in my pocket, so you call me if I’m right. Got it?”
“Got it. I love you too,” I say, giving our snarky banter a break for a moment and letting him give me one more kiss before he heads out the door.
“Damn, it’s hotter than Satan’s ass out here!” he yells, sliding his aviators on as he walks to his car.
“Told you!” I shout after him before shutting myself in my frigid haven.
The contractions continue every ten minutes for the next two hours, and while they smart a little bit, they don’t hurt enough to make me cease my assault on the house. I texted Ty to let him know they were coming regularly, but one thing Heather told us ad nauseam in birth class is that labor literally takes hours, and ten minutes apart is hardly time to high-tail it to the hospital. So I firmly tell him not to hurry home. After the bedroom is cleaned to my satisfaction and I’ve given another sweep through the baby’s room, I finally feel it catch up to me and decide to relax. As promised, Tyler comes home after just three hours. He puts our clean sheets back on the bed and we spend the rest of the afternoon and evening relaxing and watching the Fast and the Furious movies, him with a blanket over him.
To his credit, he only spent about ten minutes gloating that he was right about me being in early labor, and so we decided since these are probably our last few hours to relax, we might as well soak it up.
The contractions get incrementally stronger and closer together throughout the evening, and I have to breathe through them now. Tyler massages my back with a tennis ball to help ease the squeeze I feel with each one, and around ten-thirty, I decide I need to get up to stretch and pee. Just as Tyler helps me to stand, I feel a harsh jolting pain through my pelvis that almost brings me to my knees and I cry out.
“What is it? Are you alright?” Tyler asks, steadying me. I breathe in through my teeth and then out through pursed lips until it passes.
“Yeah. That was a bad one though,” I tell him as I take in some cleansing breaths.
“Time to go.” His tone says he’s making no bones and to not fight him on this. At this point, I think he’s right.
“Okay, can you get the hospital bag? I need to go to the bathroom.”
After emptying my bladder, I stand to wash my hands at the sink when I feel a pop deep inside and hear a splash down below. I look down to see a puddle on the tile floor beneath me.
“Dammit I just cleaned in here!” I shriek.
About half an hour after Annie’s water broke, I finally got her in the damn car. She insisted on making the bathroom spotless again, which I took care of while she showered because she also insisted on cleaning herself up before going to the hospital and presenting herself to numerous medical staff who have already seen it all. I’m trying to gently hurry her along because her contractions went from seven minutes apart to four after her water broke.
Once we’re in the car and I’ve triple-checked that we have everything, I pull out on the road heading in the direction of the hospital. Thankfully we’re making good time as there’s very little traffic, until the un-fucking-believable happens…
I catch a flash of light in my peripheral and look up to see the tell-tale blue and red revolving lights in my rearview.
“Shit,” I grunt out through clenched teeth as I step on the brake and pull over to the side of the street.
“We’re being pulled over?” Annie asks breathlessly, panic all over her face.
“Don’t worry, we’ll just explain you’re in labor. They’ll have to let us go,” I reason, trying to calm her. And then I look in my side-view mirror.
You’ve got to be shitting me right now.
Strutting towards me is my soon-to-be ex-best friend. He’s got his hat on, and even though it’s eleven at night, he’s wearing his fucking aviators and his face is schooled in a deadpan expression that he reserves specifically for times like these when he recognizes my car and pulls me over to fuck with me.
I furiously roll down my window as he leans down with his hands on his knees.
“Do you know why I pulled you over?” he asks, in a monotone.
“Juan, I don’t have time to play Super Troopers with you right now,” I growl with my jaw clenched while I jerk my head in Annie’s direction. “Annie’s in labor.” Annie continues to breathe between contractions, not looking up. Juan’s serious mask slips briefly when he looks over at Annie without really taking in the situation.
“Ah, you got her to play along; nice.” He clears his throat and resumes his stern cop face and looks back to me. “Do you know how fast you were going?”
“Juan. I’m not fucking around!”
He slides his aviators down his nose and eyeballs me, still in character. Annie’s breathing gets rapid again and she starts moaning as another contraction builds. “Nice try,” he grumbles in his cop voice.
“Juan…” Annie grinds out turning to face him, “are you ready for that decorated cop funeral?”
“Fuck, you’ve done it now man!” I warn.
“I WILL KILL YOU!” Annie’s demonic growl really is pretty scary. I’m impressed.
“Whoa!” Juan stumbles backwards a step as he grabs onto his hat, jostling his shades and knocking them askew. They’re cockeyed on his face for a second before he rights them but they don’t hide the panic in his expression.
Annie throws her head back and I can tell the contraction is peaking by the wail she lets out and the thin layer of sweat that’s starting to break across her forehead as she struggles to get control of her breathing. I take her hand and let her squeeze the hell out of it, holding out hope she doesn’t break it.
“Annie, honey, breathe. Take a nice deep breath for me.”
“Is she really… I mean how far along?” Officer Dickhead is at a loss for words it seems.
“Just let us get out of here so I can get her to the damn hospital or you’ll have to deliver this baby yourself, and I will punch you in the face if you have to do that!”
“If you get in the way of my epidural I will punch you in the face!” Annie adds, coming down from her killer contraction.
“Enough with all this punching me in the face! Okay, let’s get you out - wait!” I can see the lightbulb turn on as his eyebrows go up over his glasses. “Follow me,” he instructs, and as he walks back to his cruiser I hear him speak into his radio: All available units in the vicinity of Wilshire and Lake, southbound…
Fucking-A, he’s calling in a police escort. I decide the stupid cop gets to live as I pull the car back onto the road behind Juan’s police cruiser, blaring lights and sirens in full force.
“You did this to me,” Annie says in a low, distressed voice from the passenger seat, her eyes fixed on the road with a look of controlled panic in them.
“I know honey,” I answer, taking her hand and kissing it. “Sorry, but not sorry.”
35
“AGGHHHHH!” I scream through a ripping contraction.
/> “Whoa, honey, remember what Heather told us about screaming and how it’s counterproductive to breathing through the -,”
“AGGGHHHHHH!” Is what I say to that. Seriously, I’d like to see him go through what I have in just the two hours since we got to the hospital, starting with the not-so-bright registration lady who had me verify my first, middle and last names, my date of birth, my address, and middle school locker combination all while she could plainly see I was trying to get through a monumental contraction. Then having a strange nurses’ fingers scouring my lady bits to see how dilated I am between two more of the tremors from hell. I was at five centimeters, in case you’re wondering. Then being told the anesthesiologist was backed up and it would be a while before my epidural, while having another split-me-in-half contraction. Then, having my cervix checked again to find out I’m now at a six and that I’m progressing so steadily, there might not be time for an epidural. This is after more stupid horrific contractions, all while feeling like a rhino is sitting on my chest, because seriously, it feels like I can’t catch my breath.
Yeah… Let’s see Tyler go through all that without screaming.
The contraction ebbs and I suddenly feel bad for probably making him go partially def.
“I’m sorry,” I pant. “That one was seriously horrible.”
“I know,” he says in a quiet, soothing voice as I drop my forehead to his from where I sit on the edge of the bed. “But you’re doing so good, honey. I’m so proud of you.” He’s in a chair by the bed, facing me, running his hands softly up and down my thighs. I’m hooked up to a monitor that tracks my contractions, and while I deliberately have my back to it, Tyler is watching it so that he can prepare me for when another one comes.
“I can’t… I can’t take another one,” I say miserably, shaking my head as I continue to pant out my words. “I’m going to die. The pain’s going to kill me,” I whimper.
“That’s what you said about the last one, and you kicked its ass,” he calmly reminds me.
“I mean it this time,” I wail, still trying to futilely catch my breath.
“I know honey,” he placates as he looks over my shoulder and back to me again. “Okay, another one’s coming; this one’s not as bad as the last one. Give me your hands. We’re going to breathe through this together…”
We go on like this for the next hour, with me wanting to give up with each contraction and Tyler calmly not letting me. He coaches me through each one, staying completely in tune with me. He’s the glue holding me together.
After nurse tarantula-hands informs me I’m dilated to eight, she thankfully follows it up with news that the anesthesiologist will be in in ten minutes. Thank God and everything that is holy. Too bad that in this moment, while my body is being absolutely racked with contractions, ten minutes feels like ten years.
“Agggghhhh!” I scream again for the umpteenth time, as another contraction takes over and I try like hell to breathe through it, but they’ve gotten so intense and frequent that I can’t seem to catch my breath before another one starts. My breathing is desperate and rapid and I feel like I can’t get enough air in my lungs to follow the techniques Tyler is trying to coach me through.
When this T-Rex sized one finally lets go of me, Tyler is starting to look beside himself.
“Do you want to try a different position? Do you want me to rub your back?”
“No, I’m comfortable like this,” I wheeze out. “Will you just talk to me?”
“Talk to you? About what?”
“I don’t know! Can you tell me a story? Distract me,” I plead through my pants and gasps. Tyler takes a deep breath, trying to think quickly before having an a-ha moment.
“I made it to the Z’s,” he tells me.
“The Z’s?”
“Yeah, in the baby name book,” he clarifies. “And I like the name Zoe.” He smiles hopefully at me.
“Really?” I ask, surprised that I’m able to feel excited. Didn’t think I was capable of feeling anything other than rip-roaring pain at the moment. “You really do?”
“Yes,” he smiles, looking encouraged that this might be working. “I really do. What do you think? Do you like it?”
“Zoe’s sweet,” I nod. “I like it.”
“Zoe it is then,” he smiles, bringing my hand to his lips.
I have about five seconds to bask in the thrill of our little girl finally having a name before another contraction takes over, this one ten times stronger from the last one and I cry out. Tyler sees my panic and how my breathing immediately goes rapid and erratic and leans into me, bringing our foreheads together again.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. Annie, breathe with me. We’re going to breathe through it together.” Oh my God this is going to kill me. I’m dying, I think, as my strong, calm rock guides me through probably the fifty-millionth contraction. I feel like my body is in a vice and I’m absolutely exhausted.
“Please keep talking to me, it helps.” My words come out on a shallow breath as I close my eyes and keep my forehead on his. It both calms and centers me, and right now, so does his voice.
Tyler takes a few deep breaths as if he’s trying to calm himself before responding.
“Will you marry me?”
My mind is being tossed around in the middle of a cyclone right now, but I think he just said…
“What?” I squeak out, and I start to lose control of my breathing. That was a good one, but it may’ve distracted me a little too well.
“Breathe with me,” he calmly switches gears, to get me back on track before continuing. “Will you marry me?” he asks again. Okay, he’s for real. He said the words a second time and I can hear the nervousness in them, as well as the courage he’s sucked in to overcome it.
The contraction thankfully wanes out so I can at least attempt to get my over-wracked brain around this.
I didn’t mishear him, he said it twice.
Was it just to distract me from the pain? Or is he really proposing to me while I’m in an ugly-ass hospital gown, panting like an overheated Labrador while my hair is sticking to my face because I’m working a human being out of my body?!
I tell that last thought to shut the hell up while I process this. My love just asked me to marry him, in this dim hospital room where it’s just the two of us, right before we become the three of us. Just him and me, breathing together like one. As if reading my mind, he continues to speak.
“I know we’re not under a starlit sky or on a cliff overlooking the ocean or… well, anything even remotely romantic here,” he chuckles at himself. “But this is me, here in front of you while something amazing happens between us. I love you. You, me and Zoe, we’re a family no matter what, but I want to call you my wife. I want all of us to have the same name. And before you go thinking I’m just caught up in the moment, I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. I have a ring for you at home that I forgot to grab in our hurry to get here. It can’t hold a candle to you, but it’s pretty,” he’s starting to hopelessly ramble. He’s nervous and genuine, and despite the gauntlet my body is going through right now, I feel my own love for him so deeply in this moment.
“I love you,” I whisper between gasps, and can just barely return the light kiss he places on my lips.
“I think the reason I never committed to anyone before is because the universe was saving my heart just for you. I was saving my heart just for you, I just didn’t fucking know it. I love everything about you, Annelise; the way you never fell for my shit and made me work for it, and how you have always seen me as a person. No one can make me laugh the way you do, and I love how you love me. So,” he steels himself, closing his eyes before opening them again and brings our foreheads together again as another contraction starts to mount. “Will you please marry me?”
“Yes,” I cry out before the raging pain overtakes me again and Tyler resumes his coaching. This one is the worst yet. Ty asked me to marry him, he wants to marry me, I chant inwardly to myself as I fol
low his instructions and try to breathe through it. I can’t help it and let out a scream as it peaks. Sorry Ty.
Just then, the nurse who likes checking cervix’s in her spare time appears in the doorway with a tall, stocky man in dark blue scrubs at her side.
“Annie,” she practically sings. “Guess who’s here? This is Dr.Kerrigan, the anesthes-,”
“The epidural guy!” Thank. God.
I’m getting married and getting an epidural…
“Thank you sooo much,” Annie says, her eyes getting misty with affection. “I’ll never forget you.”
The anesthesiologist gives a smile and a nod before he backs out of the room. My girl has mellowed out completely and is now lying back comfortably in the bed. She was past eight centimeters when he placed the epidural so we don’t have long, but she was dilating quickly which isn’t common, especially for first timers, and therefore I can’t imagine how intense it was. I’m happy as hell to see her have some relief, even if I did pass out at the sight of the needle. I was only out for a minute.
“Now, you realize you’re marrying me, not him, right?” I joke as I fold my arms over the side rail of her bed and rest my chin on them. She turns to me with a calm smile and the warm affection in her eyes intensifies.
“You bet your ass I am,” she whispers.
“How are you feeling gorgeous?” I ask, reaching for her hand. We’re completely alone again while the doctor and nurses monitor Annie’s and the baby’s vitals from the nurse’s station.
“A hundred times better.”
“That’s good honey, I’m glad.” We take a few moments of contented silence, just her and me, our only light coming from the hallway. We talk about when we want to get married and decide we want to do it soon as I stroke my hand over her hair. I’m so amazed by Annie and so proud of her. We share a few laughs, and she continues to breathe through her contractions that she can still feel the pressure from, but aren’t hurting her anymore.
Picture Us (Turn it Up Book 3) Page 27
