Page 94 of Holiday Wedding
“I am,” she snaps, equally stressed.
“She’s going as fast as she can,” Dean tells Caleb, his protective side coming out to defend his girlfriend.
“I think I might puke,” I moan, the lurching of the car adding to my growing nausea.
“Drive faster. Gwen’s turning green,” Dean tells Jenny. His head swivels from me to her and back again.
“Please don’t throw up,” begs Caleb. He swallows rapidly and says, “If you do, I’ll vomit too.”
“Not in my car. No puking in my car.” Jenny takes a turn so fast that my butt slides across the seat. I plow into Caleb, who catches me in his arms.
I gag, which makes Caleb gag, which makes Dean gag.
“Seriously Jenny, we need to get to the hospitalnow.” Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing in shallow gasps.
Through gritted teeth, Jenny says, “Will you stop already? I’m going as fast as I can.”
My eyes water from the nausea and pain.
“We took those prenatal classes,” Caleb says, holding me tight
I love him so much, but the feeling of it is too constricting. I push him away.
“Sorry,” I pant, “need,” pant, “space,” pant.
“You’re supposed to do that special breathing,” he tells me.
“I don’t remember how.” I clap one hand over my mouth and the other on my belly. It feels like the baby is trying to burrow out through my back. That’s where my pain is.
Caleb makes weird panting and hissing noises. Not at all how the Lamaze instructor did it.
Desperate for relief, I mimic him. Quickly, I lose my train of thought. “I can’t,” I whine. “Oh no. It hurts.”
“Come on, Gwen. You can do it,” Jenny encourages from the front seat.
I remember the breathing and try it again, Caleb doing it with me. Soon Dean and Jenny join in. All four of us are taking sharp, deep breaths. The car is filled with the sound of it, broken by my low moans when the contractions hit.
We swerve around cars. Horns honk. A cabbie cusses us out, waving his hand threateningly. I’m only half-aware of it. All my concentration is focused on what’s happening inside my body.
With a screech of tires, Jenny pulls up to the Maternity Department. It has a separate entrance for situations like this. Caleb, Dean, and Jenny jump out. Dean grabs a wheelchair from the lobby. Caleb and Jenny help me out of the car.
I’m bent over, my hands clasping my belly. As soon as Dean brings the wheelchair, I collapse into it. A feeling of wetness spreads under me.
“Caleb,” I say, tears of embarrassment gather in my eyes. He comes closer, leaning down. I whisper, “I think I just peed myself.”
A voice from a few feet away says, “That’s your water breaking.” I look up to find an older lady with navy blue scrubs. “I’m Mary. The head nurse here.”
Simultaneously, we all breathe a sigh of relief. Help has arrived.
Mary surveys our now-disheveled group, all in formal wear. I’m a sweaty mess. Caleb’s bow tie has come undone. Dean’s taken off his jacket. Jenny stands barefoot on the sidewalk. Mary doesn’t even blink. I have a feeling she’s seen worse things than us.
Caleb steps forward. “This is Gwen, my wife. I think she’s in labor.”
Right as he says it, the biggest contraction yet hits me like a freight train. I screech, gripping the arms of the wheelchair for dear life.
Jenny, Dean, and Caleb crowd me, all of them asking if I’m okay at the same time.
Mary shoos them away. She comes behind and takes the handles of the wheelchair. “Looks like labor to me. Who’s ready to have a baby?” Without waiting for an answer, she pushes me into the hospital. My husband and friends follow.
