Page 22 of Dreaming of His Omega
"Whoa, what are you doing?" Traviel asked.
"I'm making sure we have everything."
He smiled. “Elarian, love, we have quadruped-checked that bag. It's ready.”
“Okay,” I said reluctantly, “I trust you.” I zipped it back up and resisted the urge take another peek. The cramping in my gut increased to where it was nearly painful. “I hope they get here soon.”
The sound of distant sirens echoed and we both looked toward the window in surprise.
“You don’t think they sent an ambulance, do you?” I asked in alarm.
“I don’t know,” he said, pulling the curtain back to look out the window.
Practically everyone we knew now, including the nurses and doctors at Vale Valley General, knew about Traviel’s vanishing issue. We didn’t have a car yet, and briefly discussed the idea of renting one for when I needed to get to the hospital, but nixed the idea. We weren't sure if I'd be in any condition to drive while actively in labor, and Traviel didn’t trust himself not to vanish while driving. After overhearing us during a check-up, Dr. Evans promised that someone from the hospital would come get us. But he didn’t make it sound like an ambulance would be coming. But the sirens grew steadily louder and an ambulance came into view. Sure enough, it stopped in front of our house.
“Well, this is embarrassing,” I said, noticing a couple of nearby neighbors poking their heads out of their doors.
Traviel took me by the arm and grabbed the bag with his other hand. Together, we went out to meet the man climbing out of the ambulance. Fortunately, they didn't make me get on a stretcher or any nonsense like that. I was actually able to ride up front with the driver, in a much more comfortable seat. Once we got to the hospital however, they insisted I take a wheelchair to the delivery room. I wanted to argue, but about halfway up I was hit by a sudden, painful contraction, that made me glad I was sitting in the chair. I bent over as far as I could while seated, trying to remember my birthing classes and breathe through it.
“Are you okay?” Traviel asked.
“Yeah, these are just a lot more painful than I expected.”
“A word of advice,” said the nurse pushing the wheelchair. “Ask for the epiduralbeforeyou think you'll need it. Because by the time you ask, it could take a little while to actually get it going.”
“Thanks,” I said, gritting my teeth as the contraction continued.
Once in the room, there was a flurry of nurses prepping me for the big event. Before I knew it, I was in the bed, in a hospital gown, and hooked up to a bunch of monitors.
“Doctor Evans will be in soon,” said a nurse, pressing an emergency call button into my hand. “He’ll check to see how dilated you are. Otherwise, if you need anything, just let me know.”
She bustled out and I was left alone with Traviel.
“This is it,” he said softly, taking my hand. “Our baby's coming.”
I smiled at him, listening to the steady hums and rhythmic beeping of machines. I turned to my side to look at one, and I could see each little arch as the baby's heart beat. Below that, I could see a gauge measuring my contractions.
“This is amazing. I can't believe this is really happening.”
“Neither can I,” Traviel said. He squeezed my hand. “I love you more than anything. I want you to know that.”
I smiled back. “I love you too, Traviel.” I returned the squeeze, then gasped as another contraction came.
His eyes flicked behind me to the monitor and the corners of his mouth tugged into a grin. “I can watch these with you.”
“Better than experiencing them with me.”
He stood to brush some hair off my face and kiss my forehead. “You’re doing great. Can I get you anything?”
“No. Although I wish I thought to eat before we left.” As I thought about food, the very idea of it twisted my stomach. “I'm going to be sick.”
“Me too,” Traviel chuckled.
“No,” I groaned, fighting back a gag “I'm going to besick!”
“Oh! The nurse left a…” Traviel jumped up and searched frantically for the little tray. He grabbed it and thrust it under me, just in time. Then, he stood there dutifully, holding it out, waiting to see if I would get sick again.
“Oh, that was unpleasant,” I moaned.
