Having My Baby

by Imari Jade

  “Oh, I have my ways.” Alex led her to the couch, and after she sat, he eased down next to her, holding her feet on his lap. “I was going to wait until after the baby’s born, but I know you’ve been tired and frustrated. I’ll get you more after she’s born.”

  Tabitha laughed. “You’re always so certain it’s a girl.”

  “Well, after he’s born, then.” Alex rubbed the arch of her foot. “You know I don’t care, as long as the baby’s healthy.”

  “It’s definitely healthy,” Tabitha muttered, drawing the soft, velvety petals of the roses under her chin. “Wiggling around and kicking at me all the time. I’m black and blue on the inside. This morning, I could swear I got pinched!”

  “Remember when we read that you’re not supposed to rub a pregnant woman’s feet?” Alex slowly pulled off both of her socks, dropping them on the floor. “There’s a nerve in there that might cause contractions to start, supposedly.”

  Tabitha relaxed against the back and arm of the sofa. “If that’s an offer for a massage, I’m definitely for it.”

  “Want to watch a movie, too?”

  “That would be nice.”

  Alex moved with casual assurance, setting up the tape and bringing a vase for the flowers. By the time he sat back down to take Tabitha’s feet back into his lap, she had a glass of milk by her elbow, a plate of cookies, and a throw draped across her body.

  “I love you,” she sighed, as he moulded his hands to her feet.

  “I love you, too.”

  The movie he put in was one of her many favourites, a romantic comedy. After a while, she closed her eyes and just listened while he kneaded and rubbed the tired muscles forming the ball of her foot. Gently, so she wouldn’t flinch with the tickle, he manipulated each toe. Her body relaxed even further when he rotated first one heel, and then the other, loosening the joint. His hands were very warm, and soft on her skin, though slightly scarred and calloused from working with chef’s knives.

  * * * *

  “Tabby.”

  Drowsy, and too comfortable to move, Tabitha tried to roll more deeply into the corner of the couch.

  “Come on, honey. I know you’re tired, but you’ve got to come to bed.”

  Groaning, Tabitha let him pull her up to a sitting position. “I was so relaxed. I could have slept out here.”

  “Yes, but I would miss you.” Alex kissed her hands.

  A warmth spread throughout her body at the touch of his lips. “You know, there’s something else I learned while I was reading this week. Another way to induce labour.”

  She got to her feet, putting her weight on Alex’s arms as his hands grasped her elbows. The love in his eyes washed over her. “What is it?”

  She licked her lips. “The basic ingredients in pitocin are essentially the same as what’s in sperm. Not very romantic, I know.” Her voice was hushed. “And I know I’m not very attractive right now, but—”

  Her words were stopped by his mouth on her own.

  “I think you’re very sexy, and you always are,” he murmured, drawing her with him to the bedroom. “With your round breasts, and our child in your belly. How could I not want you?”

  * * * *

  Spooning under the covers, Tabitha stroked Alex’s hand as it rested on the upper curve of her abdomen.

  “I wonder what he thought of that?” he whispered into her hair.

  She laughed, feeling her belly shake.

  “Well, it was probably like a roller-coaster ride or something. At the very least, the tilt-a-whirl.” She squeezed his fingers and nestled her bottom more firmly against him.

  “Is that rain?” Alex turned his head away for a moment. “It sounds like rain.”

  “In February?”

  “Sounds like it.” He kissed the side of her neck, before slipping out of the bed. “Hang on a second. I’ll be right back for more cuddling.”

  He paused to put on a pair of sweatpants, and then quickly went up the stairs.

  Tabitha must have drifted off again. The next thing she knew, his icy chin was pressing under her earlobe.

  “Hey!”

  “Sorry, but you’re so warm.”

  “What were you doing?” she muttered plaintively. “Rolling in the snow?”

  “I had to lift the windshield wipers,” he whispered, pulling her closer to him. She didn’t protest again. Her body had been like a furnace for months. “It’s freezing rain out there. It will not be nice, chipping the ice off the glass in the morning. I'll have to salt the drive as soon as I get up.”

  “Um,” said Tabitha. She was already, once again, drifting.

  * * * *

  The windows in their small, modern, basement apartment were not large, but the bright walls helped to spread any light that came in. While Alex liked it as dark as possible, Tabitha often left the curtains open to catch the early morning sun. It was nice to open her eyes to the light streaming in from the east.

  But this time, Tabitha wasn’t certain what had awoken her. The light outside was grey, showing that the sun was barely up, or that it was extremely cloudy. She didn’t bother to look at the clock, needing to use the bathroom so badly that there was a dull ache in the bottom of her abdomen.

  Her grogginess vanished when she saw what was on the tissue.

  Smiling widely, she crawled back into the bed beside her husband. “We’re going to have a baby today,” she told him, softly.

  Alex gathered her into his arms. “Okay,” he yawned. “Do you want to call the midwife?”

  She checked the clock. “It’s six-thirty,” she answered. “I’m not feeling any pain yet, just cramping a little. Maybe we should wait.”

  They lay, talking quietly, for forty minutes. Tabitha became acutely aware that the cramp in her lower belly had taken on a rhythmic quality. It ebbed and fell in waves, not unlike an earache. Still, it wasn’t terribly uncomfortable.

  Finally, at seven-thirty, she made the call.

  “I’m so sorry, did I wake you?”

  “No, no, I was up.” Sherry sounded sleepy, but cheerful. “Are you having contractions?”

  “Yes, I think so.” Tabitha’s enthusiasm bubbled over as she described her sensations. “Should I go to the hospital?”

  “Well, by the sounds of it, you’ve still got a while yet. It’s good that your contractions are regular, but they’re about ten or fifteen minutes apart, right?” Tabitha could hear children’s voices in the background, as Sherry’s own family began their day. “You have an appointment scheduled this morning at eleven, so why don’t you come in then and we’ll have a look?”

  A bit disappointed, Tabitha agreed. In the next moment, another wave of squeezing cramp swept away her misgivings. Clearly, it was going to happen, in only a matter of hours.

  “Thank goodness for small miracles,” she told Alex, after she hung up the phone. “Now I don’t have to worry about being induced!”

  With time to kill before her appointment, Tabitha wandered the apartment after Alex went to work, knowing he was only a phone call away. She did a few final loads of laundry after breakfast. She paused to rest when she felt the pains, which were really only as bad as period cramps, and started reading Gone with the Wind again to take her mind off things. Then, at ten-thirty, she put on her coat, grabbed her purse and car keys, and slowly made her way up the stairs with one hand firmly gripping the rail.

  Outside, the freezing rain had warmed into a tepid sleet. Alex had thoughtfully scattered extra salt on the porch, stairs, and walkway. Still, she shuffled her way down to the car.

  “It’s as bad as Christmas Eve when you’re a kid,” she muttered to herself. Alex had also scraped her windshield, but she had to wait for the engine to warm up. “What else do I have to wait for, today?”

  Maybe if Tabitha hadn’t spoken the words aloud, she wouldn’t have run into the construction detour.

  Or gotten behind the city bus.

  By the time she parked the car at the midwives’ office, she was ne
arly twenty minutes behind schedule. Her belly squeezed as she unclipped the seatbelt. The cramp was stronger, this time.

  Sherry wasn’t in the office yet, but Tabitha’s second midwife, Aidie, was pleasant and gentle as she performed the examination.

  “Congratulations! You’re at five centimeters!” Aidie patted her foot.

  Tabitha exhaled. “Wow. Still a while to go, then.”

  “You’re doing great. Just go home, keep an eye on the time, and call me or Sherry if your water breaks, or when the contractions are five minutes apart.”

  * * * *

  Not willing to go home just yet, to sit and wait alone, Tabitha headed to the local shopping centre, instead.

  The mall wasn’t busy. Tabitha paced the food court, trying to decide what to order while waiting for Sam to arrive.

  “You don’t look like you’re in labour.”

  Tabitha turned around. Sam was holding a camera. “Say cheese!”

  “No!” Her reaction time was too slow; Sam snapped the picture before Tabitha could get her hand up. “What are you doing? I’m going to have this baby any minute! For real, this time!”

  “I’m recording the moment for posterity.” Her friend grinned while tucking the camera safely in her bag. “Okay, now, is it time to push yet?”

  The dull ache in Tabitha’s abdomen wasn’t quite going away between the sporadic moments of squeezing discomfort. “No, but I really need to sit down.”

  “Do you want anything?” Sam’s expression softened. She took Tabitha by the hand and pulled her over to a chair. “Let me get you a drink or something. Are you allowed to eat?”

  “Actually, I could really go for a slushy,” Tabitha admitted. “I feel kind of warm.”

  “Your face does look a bit red. I’ll get it for you.”

  “Lemonade, please. And maybe a baked potato, with sour cream and chives.” The delicious odour coming from the nearby Swiss Chalet was making Tabitha’s mouth water.

  “You know we have a bet going in the study group,” Sam called over from the register as she paid for the food. “If you have the baby anytime between six and ten tonight, I will win fifty dollars!”

  “Oh, yeah?” Tabitha leaned back in her chair, wincing. “I will do my best. I’ve said it before, and I will say it again: I am ready to get this done.”

  The potato was the best thing she’d ever eaten. Sam got her a refill on the lemonade, and then Tabitha headed home.

  Around the construction detour.

  And behind a little old lady in a massive Lincoln driving five miles per hour under the speed limit.

  * * * *

  The remains of supper—another rotisserie chicken, creamed corn, and baked french fries with gravy—sat on the counter while Tabitha took a shower and Alex watched a movie.

  The hot water felt wonderfully good on her lower back, while an invisible hand pressed in on her stomach with increasing intensity.

  She remembered that the girl from her prenatal class had had her water break while in the shower. Tabitha had no such luck, though. She stood under the massaging spray until the heat faded, and her fingers were wrinkled.

  The next cramp made her bottom feel like it was going to fall out. Half dressed, Tabitha eased down onto the toilet seat, expecting for the normal process, but her water wasn’t the only thing refusing to find the exit. She strained for a moment, waiting to see whether her bladder was going to empty or not, hoping for some relief.

  The reality dawned on her, quite quickly.

  “Alex! I think you should start timing me,” she called out, pulling on the pair of drawstring sweatpants she’d brought into the bathroom.

  Alex was crouched in front of the VCR when she emerged, a moment later. “Really? From the beginning of contractions, or the end of each one?”

  She breathed out slowly, grabbed a chair from the kitchen table, and reversed it so she could straddle the seat. “I don’t remember, just time me.”

  The feeling of pressure was still there, and the red-hot ache had ramped up a degree or two. She eased back on the chair, so her lower abdomen was no longer touching the wood. Within a few minutes, the crushing need to bear down returned. It quickly strengthened. “I’ve got another one!” Tabitha gasped. She concentrated on breathing through it.

  Across the room, Alex’s movie started.

  “Zombies, Alex? Seriously?”

  “Did that one finish?” He was looking at his watch, grinning sheepishly. “You like zombies, it’s for you.”

  She shook her head with disbelief. “Yes, this one is done. I need some water, please.”

  In the middle of her sip from the tall glass he handed her, the next contraction began. She gave the glass back to her husband so her hands were free to grip the sides of the chair.

  “It just...feels like...I really need...to go to the bathroom,” she finished in a rush, huffing and puffing between each word. She leaned her chin on the top rung.

  Alex picked up the phone. “Maybe I should call the midwife now.”

  Tabitha nodded. “Sounds...like...a...plan.” She wiped some sweat from her forehead with the edge of her sleeve. “Whew, that one was harder.”

  It was seven o’clock.

  “It’s ringing, honey.” Alex moved across to turn down the volume on the TV. “Hi, Sherry? Tab thinks it’s time. Her contractions are about two or three minutes apart, but we’re not sure... Yes, she can talk.” Alex held the cordless out so Tabitha could take it.

  “Hi...Sherry...” Tabitha smiled, though her lower body now felt like it was burning. She tried to speak confidently, but couldn’t help panting. “It...feels...like...I...need...to... Well, I tried going...to the bathroom...but...nothing...happened. I had a shower, though.”

  Finally, after answering a few more questions, Tabitha gave the handset back to Alex. Another wave of pain rendered her speechless. It was so powerful, her ears rang and her vision blurred.

  When she could see again, Alex was kneeling in front of her, holding the glass of water.

  “She’s on her way. She said she usually likes to talk as a diagnostic tool. If you weren’t really in labour, she would have heard it in your breathing. I mean, she could tell you were in hard labour because of your breathing. Anyway, she’s coming. Have a drink, honey.”

  Tabitha drank. “Can you call my mother?” she coughed, closing her eyes against the next contraction.

  * * * *

  By the time Sherry knocked on the door, the interval between Tabitha’s pains was down to seconds. She smiled at the older woman as Sherry came down the stairs, black bag in hand. Tabitha's face felt red, her heart was pounding, and her lungs bursting, as though she was running a marathon in the summer instead of sitting backwards on a ladder-back chair in a basement apartment, having a baby.

  “Okay, sweetheart, let’s have a look at you.” Sherry helped Tabitha move to the bedroom, walking behind her in case Tabitha needed support. . She heard rustling as the midwife spread a plastic sheet under a soft blanket. A gentle hand came under her arm, helping Tabitha to lie down on the bed. “I just need to see how much you’ve dilated.”

  The examination hurt, even though the midwife was careful. “Ooh, ouch.”

  “Sorry, Tabitha. You’re almost completely effaced, at ten centimetres.” Sherry removed her moistened glove. “I bet if I broke that water for you, that last bit of cervix would simply melt away. You’d have your baby in ten or fifteen minutes.”

  “No,” Tabitha shook her head. “No, I want it...to happen...on its own.”

  “No problem.” Sherry helped Tabitha put her garments back together. “Now, here’s the question you need to consider: Do you want to stay here? I have all the equipment I need in the trunk of my car. I can put the paramedics on standby. If you were to drive to the hospital now, there’s the possibility that the baby will crown and I’d have to help you deliver on the road, in the backseat. If there is a complication, the OB-GYN would arrive at the hospital at approximately the same tim
e that the paramedics would bring you, because you’re at relatively the same distance. Plus, it’s freezing rain again, so the roads are a bit treacherous. So what do you want to do? Would you prefer to go to the hospital, as planned? Or stay here?”

  Tabitha looked over Sherry’s shoulder at her husband. Alex nodded at her.

  “It’s probably better to go to the hospital, right?”

  “It’s whatever you are comfortable doing, dear.”

  “Let’s go to the hospital.”

  Alex moved forward and helped Sherry raise Tabitha from the bed. The sensation that her bottom was falling out returned. She moved with excruciating slowness, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, as another wave of pain and pressure squeezed her middle. Supported by Sherry on one side, Tabitha carefully stepped into her boots after Alex put each one in front of her. He put her coat on her shoulders and helped her slide her arms into the sleeves.

  Tabitha raised her eyes to the stairs.

  The run of sixteen-odd steps had never seemed unusually high, or steep. Through the glass door, the ice-lined branches of a tree near their driveway were thrashing in a nasty wind. Tabitha could see beads of ice hitting the glass and freezing.

  A series of frightening images ran through Tabitha’s mind.

  What if she was halfway up the stairs, and suddenly, whoosh—amniotic fluid everywhere? Would Alex and Sherry be able to get her back down?

  What if the baby started crowning while she was in the back of the car? Did she want to end up on the evening news?

  “Can I change my mind?”

  Alex kissed her cheek. “Of course.”

  “Do you want to go in the bed, or use the birthing stool?” Sherry was already helping her back out of the coat.

  Tabitha’s thoughts were more articulate than her speech allowed her to express. She thought back to the research paper she had completed on birthing traditions. “Stool...please... Gravity, right?”

  “Right.”

  Back they went to the chair. Alex stayed with her while Sherry moved the coffee table back and spread a large plastic sheet on the living room floor. She thumped quickly up to her car, and returned with what looked like a wooden toilet seat on four short little legs.