Chasing Cars

A week later, Chris’s new apartment was ready to go and fully furnished. He finally got around to getting a couch, and the baby’s crib only needed the baby. So I brought dinner over again so we could celebrate, but since the baby’s room was ready to go, he said I shouldn’t go in there again. We ate dinner together, and he convinced me to stay the night even though I was feeling unusually unsexy. Not that I ever felt sexy. Just that I didn’t feel like sexing.

The next morning Chris made me breakfast before I rushed off to work. The day was just like any other day. I didn’t really expect things to go the way that they did. The only different thing was that I was exhausted, despite the lack of sexiness the night before. So I went to bed super early and stayed there until 11pm when I woke up in a state of panicked confusion. At first, I blamed my insomnia for waking me up, but I’d been sleeping just fine when I was pulled from my dream prematurely. Then I figured out why. My bed was wet.

“Shit,” I said, sitting up sharply. It wasn’t that bad. I hadn’t soaked the whole bed or anything. But I still jumped up, thinking I must have pissed myself without realizing it. But then I noticed it hadn’t stopped and it looked like water. “Shit, shit, shit,” I said, running around the room frantically. Finally, I decided the bathroom was the best place for me to be since it was still trickling down my legs.

When I was done in the bathroom, I had to stick a dishtowel in my pants. I returned to the bedroom to pull the sheets and blankets off my bed so I could get them in the laundry. Then I sat there praying Chris never saw me like that.

I didn’t know if I should go in or if I should just call Chris, but since I didn’t want him to see my soaked mattress or my panic, I decided against it. So I procrastinated for a while. I tried to paint my fingernails but gave up when the contractions started. And after a while, the dishtowel got too wet and uncomfortable, and I had to get another one. Then I paced for a while because my doctor told me it would help labor along.

But at about one in the morning, I was 100% done.

I got in my car and headed to the hospital without much thought. I didn’t even think to call Chris until later. I just wanted to focus on one problem at a time, and the one where my stomach felt like it was being ripped apart every few minutes was taking up priority. So when I got to the hospital, I took my time finding a decent parking space. Then I wandered into labor and delivery and told them my water had broken.

So they booked me right away. And once I got settled into a room with monitors and stuff going, I decided it was time to call Chris. His phone rang several times before he answered.

“Hello?” he asked in his sleepy voice. It was nearing two-thirty now.

“Chris?” I replied in my whiney voice.

“Marley? Are you okay?” I sniffled.

“I’m at the hospital.”

“Is everything okay? Are you in labor?” I sniffled again.

“Yeah.”

“What room?”

“Three in labor and delivery.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“Okay.”

“You’ll be okay, babe. I’ll be there soon. Everything’s going to be fine.” I sniffed.

“Okay.”

“See you soon.” He hung up, and I leaned back on my pillows, clutching my stomach in agony.

Chris got there right as the nurse was in checking on me. He came in through the door and went right to my side.

“Hey, are you alright?” he asked.

“At the moment,” I told him. The nurse left us alone, and he came around the other side of my bed so he could sit down.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. I woke up, and the bed was wet because my water had broken. So then I just paced for a few hours before I came here.”

“A few hours? Marley, I told you to call me right away.”

“I know. I just didn’t want you to see that I wet the bed.” He gave an exhausted laugh and shook his head.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed about stuff like that.”

“I know. I know.”

“Are you dilated?”

“Yeah, but they said I still have a while to go.” He kissed my forehead.

“I called my mom before I left. Hopefully, she gets here in time.” I nodded and leaned back. “You okay?”

“Not really.” He moved my hair back out of my face and kissed my cheek.

Chris’s mom got there a little while later. She walked into the room with flowers right as I was yelling a lot of creative profanities.

“Sorry,” I told her when it was over, and I relaxed. She smiled politely and set the flowers down on the table beside Chris.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I probably said worse with my kids,” she explained.

“How long were you in labor for?”

“Chris was nineteen hours. My daughter was six. But she was a C-section.” I started to cry.

“Nineteen? I’ve only been doing this for five hours.” She smiled sympathetically, and Chris took my hand.

“You haven’t had an epidural yet, have you?” I shook my head.

“No. No epidural.”

“She’s afraid of needles,” Chris told her. She looked at him like I was nuts.

“Well, then you’re very brave,” she decided.

A little while later, she had settled into another chair across the room so she could watch TV and let me and Chris be alone. He had his head on the bed beside me and was trying really hard not to fall asleep. I wasn’t watching TV with them because I was too preoccupied trying not to cry and shout profanities. But then I went into another contraction and squeezed his hand. I whimpered to stop myself from shouting, so Chris looked up at me. And then back at his mom.

“Hey, Mom. You mind giving us some alone time for a minute?” he asked her.

“Sure, honey. I was going to get some coffee anyway. You want anything?” she said, standing up.

“No, I’m good.” She ruffled his blond hair, patted my leg, and left us alone. Chris turned back to me.

“Why are you holding it in?” he asked.

“I’m not,” I lied, but my wobbly voice gave it away.

“You’re holding back.”

“No.”

“Marley, look at me.” He held my face in his hands. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

“I’m not doing anything to myself.”

“You’re trying to be brave because people are in here. I can see you holding it back.”

“It’s not just your mom, okay? I don’t care if she sees me like this because she’s done this before. I just don’t like when you see me like this.” His expression went softer, and he reached up to stroke my cheek.

“You don’t have to hold back for me,” he said.

“I just never used to cry a whole lot, and now I cry all the time about everything. I cried over a commercial yesterday, Chris. It wasn’t even a sad one. And I just hate being like that.” He wiped my tears away with his thumb.

“Babe, it’s okay to cry. You don’t have to try and hide it from me. This is perfectly normal, and even if it wasn’t, I don’t want you to hide it from me. So let me be the strong one right now, okay?” I sniffed.

“I love you,” I whined again. He smiled and kissed me again.

“I love you too.”

“I’m about to have another contraction, though.” He lifted his hand for me to take.

“Use me. Abuse me.” I pushed his hand away and wrapped my arms around him. I squeezed tightly and sobbed against his shoulder. He just held me until it faded, and I relaxed.

“Don’t ever think you have to prove your strength to anyone. Least of all to me. You’ve been through a lot, and this will be difficult and scary, but it will be great in the end. And when you hold our baby in our arms, you’ll realize there’s absolutely nothing you can’t do.” I sniffed.

“Jesus,” I said. “When did you get so motivational?” He just laughed.