by Mia Ford
I groan. The last thing I need right now is to deal with a very upset Sophia because of my mother. “No, she doesn’t. I’ll call her. Don’t worry Julia and thank you.”
She hesitates on the other end of the line. Then I hear a small, hiccupping sob. Awesome. She takes a steadying breath, and I listen.
“I have so much I need to say to you Thomas,” she’s crying but I have to make sure my love is ok. What could my mother have done?
“I can’t do this right now, Julia. I need to find Sophia. How long ago did she leave?”
She sniffed. “It’s been about twenty minutes.”
“Thanks,” I mutter just before disconnecting the call. If I waited, Julia would continue talking. Right now, my main priority is Sophia. I quickly punch in her number. It rings three times before going to voicemail. I hang up and try again. This time it only rings once before voicemail. I growl in frustration. I try again and this time it doesn’t ring at all. Great. She’s turned off her phone.
I’m only twenty minutes from our apartment. She either went there to stay or if she’s really upset she went to her mothers. If she went to her mothers’ then she would take a cab, but then I remember that Julia said she got into her car so she had to at least take that home. Maybe somehow, I can catch her.
I’m so nervous and panicky my hands are shaking. I drive fast from work to the house. I pray that there aren’t any cops between here and there because I just broke all the traffic laws in only half a mile.
I whip my car into our driveway. Her car is here, but that doesn’t mean she is. I race through the front door. It slams against the wall, sending pictures crashing to the floor. I don’t care. Please let her be here.
One of my neighbors comes out to see me rushing through the hall but I don’t stop to acknowledge them. There’s also some photographers who’ve taken an interest in what I’m doing. I don’t have time to worry about them right now. If they capture my panicked face and make a few bucks, so be it.
“Sophia!!” I call. I hold my breath as I wait for her to answer. When I hear nothing, I go from room to room searching. My heart sinks when I realize she’s not here. She’s gone to her mothers, at least I hope that’s where she’s gone.
Feeling a surge of emotions, I frantically dial my mother as I go and look for the hospital bag. It’s gone. If she took that she’s definitely leaving.
“What did you say to Sophia mother?” I say by way of greeting.
I don’t give her a chance to say anything when she picks up so she waits a minute to respond. “What do you mean Thomas. You sound funny,” she slurs. I can’t believe she is this drunk at almost six o’clock, but I shouldn’t be surprised.
“She left here mad. I didn’t say anything.” Somehow my mother seems to sober up a bit while I yell at her.
“Her things aren’t in her room mother. What did you do? Where is she?”
“Calm down Thomas. I only have your best interest at heart. That girl is using you.” She’s back to slurring. I realize there’s no way to know how much she had to drink.
“She’s not. I’m using her.” I yell the panic in my chest feeling like it’s constricting my heart. I have to find her.
“What does that even mean?”
“It means I paid her to have the baby for Dinah. So, I could give Dinah her perfect little life and that would only have benefited you. You truly are a selfish bitch mother.” I can’t control the anger I’m feeling.
She scoffs at the phone, doing her best motherly impression. “Thomas, you can’t talk to me like that. Why does it matter what I said if you’re paying her to have the baby?”
Rage rolls through me with the force of a hurricane. I want to hurl my phone against the wall. I want to shake my mother until her teeth rattle. Instead, I do the only thing I can. I yell. “You’re an idiot, you truly are. I love her. I have fallen in love with her. You’ve run an eight-month pregnant woman off. She’s probably upset and could go into labor. I don’t know where she is, mother. What did you do?”
My mother speaks very quietly. “I told her we’d find her unfit and take the baby from her.”
My eyes widen. My mother has done some pretty outrageous stuff, but this really takes the cake. I grit my teeth. “You’ll be lucky if you see a picture of your granddaughter after this,” I growl. I don’t give her a chance to reply before hanging up the phone.
I need to think. Should I call her mother? That probably isn’t the best. I don’t want to upset her. I can wait and see if she calls me but I may go insane.
At this moment I wish my mother didn’t even know about Sophia. I wish the three of us could just live our lives in peace. I hope she knows me well enough to know I’d never do that to her, but she has been emotional during this last month especially.
I stare down at my phone, willing it to ring. “Please Sophia,” I whisper, “call me and let me know you’re okay.”
Anxiously, I pace the living room, but when that doesn’t help. I wander into the kitchen. Maybe if I ate something. I open the fridge, but the only thing I can think of is Sophia. Has she eaten? Is she hungry? Is the baby okay?
I have no idea what to do, and I feel like I am spiraling out of control.
Unable to stand it any longer, I grab my keys and hurry from the house. I’m not sure where I am going, but where ever it is, I hope Sophia is there. I tell myself to calm down so I can drive safely. I’m no good to either one of us if I’m in a car accident somewhere. I concentrate on driving and try to figure out from the timeline where she’d be in her journey.
Chapter Twenty-Two: Sophia
I get in the cab pretty quickly as I grabbed my hospital bag and my overnight stuff. I give him mother’s address and then lean back relieved. I don’t even have the energy to cry which is what I feel like doing. The terrible words she said echo in my head. She said she’d take my baby. Over my dead body.
I don’t know this little girl yet, but I will do anything for her. She’s already so loved and such a part of what makes me, me.
My stomach feels really tight and my heartburn is the worst it’s been.
I look at my cell phone and see I have about three percent before it’s dead. I’ll just show up at my mothers. She doesn’t care if I don’t call first.
I shift my weight to try and get more comfortable and a pain so great shoots through my body that for a moment, I can’t move. I don’t make any noise, but I grip the passenger seat so hard I see nail marks when the pain passes.
What was that? Could I be in labor? It’s early, but it’s possible being so upset about the things Thomas’ mother said has sent me into labor.
I wait and see for a minute if the pain comes back. I feel a gush and water rushes from me to fill my underwear and pants. The cab is instantly wet and I know what that means. Trying to remain calm, I tap the cab driver.
“Can you please plug this in, please. Take me to the hospital.”
“Oh, Jesus lady, what the hell is that?” The cab driver turns around to grab my charger and sees the massive amount of water leaking down my legs.
“My water broke,” I tell him through gritted teeth as another contraction starts. “If you don’t want me to have this baby in your cab, you’ll get me to the hospital. You’ll also plug in my phone.”
He doesn’t say anything and takes my phone plugging it in. I just hope it charges enough between wherever we are and the hospital. No matter how I feel about his family right now, he has the right to know his baby is being born. Actually, not if he’s going to take her away from me at his mother’s insistence. I don’t know what I’m feeling.
The cab ride feels like it's taking forever. Every couple of minutes we stop. I don't know how labor could have come on so quickly. I'm not due for another two weeks.
A lot is running through my head. Is the baby okay, am I going to have her in this can, what if I get out and she falls on the pavement.
I'm regretting skipping Lamaze classes now. It feels like this is the
exact situation that probably helps with.
He hits a pothole and I lose it.
Watch where the hell you're going you jackass. You want me to shoot this kid out under your seat?"
"No ma'am I couldn't avoid it without getting hit."
He sounds scared of me. I catch a glimpse of myself in the rearview and see why. I'm gritting my teeth waiting for the next round of pain so it looks like I'm scowling. There is sweat covering my forehead and my hair is completely a mess.
"I'm sorry. This is my first baby and I'm scared."
"It's ok sweetheart. The wife and I have four. I've been called every name in the book through labor. It doesn't hurt me."
Right now, I am thankful for this man. I laugh and groan as another contraction comes on. Are they getting closer? I can't tell.
"Breathe, we're almost there. I know you can do it."
He must hear my labored breathing. This one hurts a little more.
"What's your name?" I manage to get out.
"It's Johnny. What's yours? We're just a couple streets away."
"Sophia and this is Aurora in my belly. She's Thomas Henry's daughter."
Johnny is nice enough to pull right up to the ER. I push the door open.
"No, don't get out. I'll have them come get you in a wheelchair."
He disappears behind the double doors and I have a moment of panic by myself.
It seems like forever but a few minutes later Johnny comes rushes out with a lady in pink scrubs pushing a wheelchair.
She's tiny.
"You're not going to be able to push me, honey. I'm a whale." I joke I've learned pregnant me uses humor as a coping mechanism. At least since I went into labor I have
"I'll do just fine. Let me help you."
Johnny and the lady help me climb out of the cab and settle me into the wheelchair. She pushes me fast as she asks questions I can't answer.
"How far apart are your contractions?"
"Her name is Sophia," Johnny tells her.
"I don't know. Johnny my phone!" I realize I don’t have it.
The reality that this baby is coming has caused the breath to come shallower and I feel like I might pass out. If I fall from the wheelchair I might hurt the baby so I start breathing really fast which seems to make me feel worse.
"Sophia, look at me," Pink scrubs bends down in front of me. "Breathe. You're where you need to be. You're going to be fine."
"Do you need me to call someone?" Johnny asks. They are wheeling me towards delivery I see on the sign. He's not coming with us. Panic once again sets in.
"Johnny, you can't come with me?"
"No hon, but you'll be fine. Who do I call?"
"Thomas Henry!"
They wheel me into a room and pink scrubs helps me into the bed.
"I'm Angie, I'll be with you through this whole thing okay?"
"There are some reporters downstairs asking about her," a man in blue scrubs comes in and tries to talk quietly to Angie.
"No please, no paparazzi. How do they even know I'm here?"
"Calm down. We won't let them anywhere near you."
Another pain starts building in my stomach and I grab the nurse's hand. Once it subsides what feels like an hour later I lean back on the bed.
“There’s also that gentlemen over there. He says he’s the father.” The man points to the same guy I’d seen at my apartment and again over and over. The leader, the one who points the cameras towards me.
“Does that look like Thomas Henry to you Fred?” Angie says the words harshly.
“Nope, I’ll get him to leave.” He rushes over to the guy and I see him lean in to tell him he can’t be there. He looks at me and smiles in an unnerving way.
"I miss Johnny," I say. I know the pain is talking. I don't know him.
"Is that the babies’ father?"
"No, the cab driver. Oh shit, I owe him for the ride." I start to try and get up but she gently pushes me back down.
"It will be handled I'm sure. Here's Dr. Simpson. She’s going to tell you a bit about what's going on.
“Sophia, since your water broke we need to get the baby out as soon as we can. This means we’re going to check to see if you’re dilated and go from there. Can you give us your pre-pregnancy doctor’s name so we can get your records?”
I give them the information and then bear down as another contraction comes on. The doctor puts on a glove and then checks my cervix. It feels like she’s trying to reach into my throat.
“You’re at about an eight.” She says pulling her fingers free. I unclench my butt and try to relax a little.
“That’s close right?” I ask.
“Yes, when you’re at ten it’s time to deliver.”
“So how long will it,” I stop talking as another pain takes over and I breathe the best I can through it.
“It really just depends on your body. So, I’m going to have the nurses stay with you and I’ll check you again in about an hour, okay?”
I nod as another contraction starts. I’m hooked up to all sorts of things. While the doctor was talking the nurse put a monitor on me and I can hear the babies’ heartbeat. I have an IV in my arm and I’m once again reminded of how real this all is getting.
“Do you want an epidural?” The nurse asks as I come out of the haze of pain and can focus on her face.
“No, I think I can do this.” I tell her nodding to convince myself.
My birth plan had been no epidural so I could walk immediately after. I didn’t like the idea of being confined because I couldn’t feel my body. I’m so nervous about this baby coming out. I really want my mom.
I should have told Johnny to call my mom instead of Thomas. What was I thinking?
The pain is increasing too. With each new wave I am clinging to the edge of my sanity but I’m determined to stay drug free. I’m an eight they said. I can make it without an epidural, can’t I? There’s a lot of pressure in my stomach all of a sudden and I let out a long low moan.
I don’t know how to describe the feeling except I want to get her out of me. I just have an urge to push her out of my body. I’m scared to say anything but I don’t want to do something wrong.
“Angie, I don’t mean to be weird but I feel like I need to push her out.” This doesn’t come out smoothly. One of the most intense contractions starts as I say her name and I grab the sides of the bed and bite the words out.
“Okay, hold on let me get the doctor.”
The next few things that happen seem to go in slow motion. The doctor comes in and says I’m already at ten centimeters and fully something. I missed part of what he said because I thought I would black out from pain.
“Can I have my epidural now?” I ask knowing the answer is most likely no.
“It’s too late, this baby is coming.” The doctor says as she positions herself between my legs.
Suddenly there are several people surrounding me. I’m going to have this baby with just the staff at the hospital. It’s a heady feeling, but I can tell she’s ready to come.
“You’re already past the hard part of labor. The epidural wouldn’t kick in now until after this is over.” Angie says.
“I’m sorry,” I say tears in my eyes, “that was stupid.”
“No, it wasn’t honey. It’s natural. I want you to get ready to push when the nurse tells you too. The pressure is going to build up and then you’re just going to let it all out.
I nod not sure if I know how to do that.
I push at the top of each contraction for the next twenty minutes. I’m so tired and just want to give up. I know it’s a process to get the baby down the birth canal, but I’m not sure how much more I can do. I try to remember what the book said about the length of time you can push. I want to say it was up to two hours.
“Okay get ready again, you’re doing great,” Angie says holding my hand. I push with everything I have yelling as it feels like my bottom half may split in two.
“Good job,” Dr. Simp
son says from somewhere beneath me. “The head is out Sophia, now all you have to do is give me one or two more pushes and you’re golden.”
I don’t know if I can do it. It feels like it’s going to take way more strength than I actually have. The fact it’s almost over drives me forward. I bear down, close my eyes tightly, and push with all I have.
A small cry fills the room and I open my eyes to see Aurora June Henry squirming and pink as the doctor holds her up. I lay back on the bed and cry.
When they put her on my chest the love I feel is instant and overwhelming.
“I’m here, I’m here Sophia. Doll, I’m here.” I hear Thomas as he runs into the room and watch as he stops short and looks at our daughter.
“She’s here?” I can tell he’s confused probably because he thought I’d be in labor for a few more days.
“Yes, she’s here,” I smile at him and forget pretty much anything but the three of us in this moment. It seems like we’ve waited for her for so long and now that she’s here it’s overwhelming.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you,” Thomas says a little later. We’re the only ones in the room now and Aurora has been cleaned and wrapped up tightly. She snoozes on my chest the most peaceful baby I’ve ever seen.
“I can’t believe I almost had her in the cab. It was so fast, you couldn’t have made it if you’d have known she was coming.”
