“Hey.” I hear the familiar, low voice over my right shoulder, and I spin around to face Nick. “Congratulations.” He hands me a single dahlia, and I smile.
“Thanks.” I duck under the railing, where he’s standing, and I have trouble coming to a standing position again, so Nick takes my hand, laughing as he brings me back into a standing position. “Ugh. I can barely walk with these things,” I say, gesturing to my feet. I reach down and try to unbuckle them, but I can’t. “Sweetie, will you do me a favor?” I ask, and I’m suddenly embarrassed. “I can’t bend down to take my shoes off.”
He just smiles, and he gets down on one knee and relieves my feet from their hell.
“There you go,” he says, kissing me lightly on the lips, “Doctor Wilder.”
The next hour passes in a blur—colleagues, classmates, and family all come together to congratulate me, and I feel like the luckiest woman on the planet. My heels are dangling from my fingers, and I don’t even care. Heels and pregnancy do not go well together, no matter what people tell you. They’re obviously liars.
As the sun starts to go down on the green lawn, I feel my eyes start to droop. I may have been able to stay up late a year ago, but now that I’m baking another human being, I can barely get to nine o’clock.
Nick leads me to Bria, and I scoop her up and into my arms, which is a difficult task. She hugs me lovingly, and we walk back to our car. Nick holds my hand as we drive through the campus and into Portland, towards our house. I am barely awake as I put Bria to bed and waddle to the bedroom.
I’m asleep before I even register what time it is.
*
I wake suddenly with a sidesplitting pain in my abdomen. My loud gasp wakes Nick, and suddenly he’s cradling me as I take a few calming breaths. My eyes flick to the clock—3:15 a.m.
“Nick,” I whine, suddenly starting to panic, “I think that was a contraction.”
“Shh, it’s okay, sweetie. Just breathe.” He begins to rub my back, and a few minutes later, another one hits.
“Oh my god,” I say, starting to cry. “He’s early!”
“I know. It’s okay. Everything will be okay. Let’s wait it out for a few minutes. I’ll call Cecelia.”
He gets up and walks over to the phone. I hear him murmur something as another contraction racks my body with pain. I do the math in my head—our son will be five weeks early. And then reality hits me.
I am about to have a baby.
“Nick!” I yell.
He runs in, and Bria is close behind him. I haven’t gotten up off the bed, but I know I should. They say it helps to walk around. But now I’m paralyzed with fear. I’m having this baby today.
“Evi? Is the baby coming?” Bria asks sleepily. I see Nick move to the closet and begin to pack a hospital bag for us.
“Yes. He’s coming,” I say, and I awkwardly heave myself off of the bed. “Grandma Ceecee is on her way,” I explain, and then I’m hit with another contraction, and I have to bend over the bed and make some sort of guttural sound that I know for a fact I’ve never made before and will probably never make again.
I dub the sound my “birthing yowl.”
When I feel the contraction ebb, Bria’s eyes are wide with fear.
“Is that normal?” she asks, clearly horrified.
“I wouldn’t know,” I say, smiling. “Don’t worry. I’ll be—”
Another contraction rips through me.
“Nick,” I say urgently. I feel a gush of liquid between my legs. “My water just broke.”
Nick leads Bria out of the room and comes over to me. I can feel sweat starting to form on my forehead, and I feel so hot. I need to change. As if Nick read my mind, he gently starts to pull my pants down. I close my eyes as he pulls my sleep shirt over my head.
“You can do this, Evi,” he says, handing me a pair of maternity leggings and a baggy tunic. He knows me so well.
In the middle of pulling my pants on, I feel another wave hit me, and I grip the side of the bed, rapidly blowing air through my lips.
In and out.