The Patchwork Heart

Chapter 10

It was May 29th, 2015 when he finally arrived. I was at home when my water finally broke in the kitchen eating some cereal. I made a puddle in the middle of the floor, at first I thought I had peed my pants. I called my parents and told them what happened, they told me to stay put and they would home in no time. I had packed my hospital bag three weeks prior so I had everything ready to go next to the back door. I called Sandra and let her know I was on my way to the hospital and my mom would call her later with updates on our progress. Sandra told me she and Murray would come in to town later in the day to see if I needed anything. She had been making baby blankets for the baby so she wanted to bring them in for his arrival.

I waddled my way up the stairs to change my clothes, as my pajamas were covered in fluid. While I was upstairs my mom came in and called to me, "Bree, where are you?"

"Upstairs, just getting changed." I shouted back. She came up the stairs and stopped in the doorway of my room, "Are you experiencing any pain?" I shook my head. She nodded, knowing that we had a long way to go if I wasn't in any pain. We made our way back down the stairs and out to the van. My mom took my bag for me so I didn't have to worry about anything.

Once we got to the hospital we waited for the doctor to visit us. It took almost an hour for him to arrive, which was common in small communities. Often doctors are only on call at the hospital, they are not there all the time throughout the day. When he finally came to see me he did a pelvic exam and told us that I was hardly dilated. He suggested I head back home and wait until my contractions were about six minutes apart, then come back to the hospital. I wasn't allowed to eat anything and only allowed to drink water until after the delivery. Mom took me back home. As we pulled into the driveway I saw Mitchell's truck already there and waiting for us. He was standing next to the truck looking down at his phone.

As I climbed out of the van Mitchell walked right up next to me, "What are you doing here? You should be at the hospital!" His tone was harsh; I was surprised he almost yelled at me. I stared at him and forced myself to speak, "They sent up home. I'm not dilated enough to be there yet. The doctor told me to come back when my contractions are six minutes apart."

He stared at me dumbfounded, "Six minutes? How far apart are they now?" I moved my palms over my stomach, "They haven't started yet." I walked around Mitchell and he followed me up the path, right on my heels. I walked around the house to the back door and went inside. He followed me. I turned around and faced him, "What are you doing here, Mitch?"

He looked away from me at the ground, "My mom told me you were in labour so I just jumped in my truck and came here. I figured you wouldn't want an audience at the hospital so I just parked out front and was waiting for someone to come by to let me know what was happening."

I rested my hands on my hips and looked up at him, "Well you can go back home for now. It might be a long delivery so you don't need to worry." He looked at me with sad eyes again and sighed heavily. "I could stay, and help out..." he suggested.

"No, Mitchell. Go home. Someone will call you when there is news. You don't need to be here." I told him sternly. His face fell but he nodded. Mitchell turned around and left silently through the back door. My mom shook her head at me after he left, "You should be nicer to that boy."

I rolled my eyes, "I'm in labour, I don't have to be nice to anyone." She chuckled, "Ok, that's fair. However, Mitch is just here because he cares about the baby and you. He's gotten used to taking care of you this past year. I doubt he even thought about it when he rushed over here, he just thought he should be with you."

"It's not his responsibility. Mitch has done enough already." I muttered. Sometimes I resented Mitchell's actions, in my dark moments it made me feel like a charity case. When I was in a bad mood, I would tell myself he was only doing nice things for me because he felt sorry for me. I knew it was coming from a warm place of caring and love for his little brother, but sometimes I wasn't in a place to accept that.