Page 110 of One Moment Please
Josh shakes his head and yanks off his eyepatch, hat, and wig like he just now remembered he was dressed like Captain Jack Sparrow. “Sorry.”
“God, why is this happening to me?” I groan loudly. “Kate…I’m fucking psychic.”
“You’re not fucking psychic!” Kate exclaims, turning to face me from the front seat. She’s dressed as Davy Jones with some ridiculous homemade tentacle beard that looks kind of like long, skinny penises hanging from her face.
I howl through an intense pain and stare at the ceiling of the van. “I’m fucking psychic, which means we’re not going to make it!”
“We’re going to make it!” Kate cries as she grabs Miles’s arm so hard, her knuckles turn white. “Drive faster Bootstrap Bill or her sister is never going to let her hear the end of it if she stains that back seat with childbirth.”
“What are you guys talking about with the psychic stuff?” Josh interjects, his face crazy with eyeliner smeared all over. I told him not to rub his eyes in that costume, but the moron has no clue how to wear makeup.
My mind flashes back to the past few hours, wondering if this entire scenario could have been prevented. I can’t believe I didn’t think about my dream when I decided it would be fun for us to dress up and surprise Lennon at herPirates of the Caribbean-themed birthday party.
I mean, in all honestly, it was a great surprise.
Lennon cried!
Then I cried…because my water broke while we were singing, “Happy Birthday,” like a bunch of drunken, growly pirates.
Now I’m lying sideways in the back seat of my sister’s van because our cars were all blocked in, and I’m holding my legs together for fear of my fiancé being the one to deliver my baby.
Nightmare scenario.
God, I’m an idiot.
I guess those cramps which came in spurts weren’t just Braxton Hicks. They were contractions. And now they’re right on top of each other, turning my lower belly into a ball of pain and—
Holy shit, this isn’t how I wanted to have my baby.
“Josh, look at me,” I cry as another contraction hits me. “I had a dream that you delivered our baby in the back of a minivan dressed as a pirate, and so help me God, if you see a watermelon come out of my vagina and never want to have sex with me again, I will burn your house to the ground.” My voice morphs into a low-pitched satanic sound that might resemble religious tongues, but it suits the mood, so I let it ride.
Josh grabs Miles’s shoulder. “Drive faster.”
“I am driving faster,” Miles exclaims, his voice cracking at the end. “This is a lot of fucking pressure right now.”
“You should feel what this baby is doing to my vagina!” I scream and then begin to cry because, God, I want drugs.
The Boulder ER lights finally come into view, and then I’m lifted out of the back seat and onto a stretcher.
“We made it!” Tears of joy fall. “Kate, I’m not psychic. I’m just a nut job.”
Kate smiles and holds my hand as they wheel me inside. “And look, this is where you and Josh first found out you were having a baby. Remember—they rolled you in on a stretcher just like this?”
“Yeah, that was neat.” I smile and look at Josh.
He’s shaking his head and laughing. The fucking asshole is laughing at me, and Kate’s walking down memory lane while my vagina feels like it’s about to split me in half.
Finally, I get moved into a labor and delivery room where they change me out of my Elizabeth Swan custom-made pirate costume and into a really ugly hospital gown. When Dr. Lizzy walks in, I start bawling.
“Thank God you’re here!” I cry, and she takes my outstretched hand. “I thought Josh was going to deliver the baby in the back of a minivan because I had a vision. Can pregnancy make you psychic?”
“Not that I know of.” She points at Josh. “Dad, the nurse has scrubs for you to change into and maybe she can get you a makeup wipe. Were you guys at a comic-con or something?”
“Birthday party,” we both reply in unison, and Josh runs off to change while the nurses hook me up to a million machines.
Dr. Lizzy finishes checking my cervix when Josh emerges dressed in blue scrubs, looking nothing like a pirate and a whole lot like my beloved Dr. Dick.
“So, Lynsey, I know your birth plan involved an epidural, but I’m afraid we have no time for that.”
