How It Should Be

Centimetres Away

*SIRENS WHIRRING*

The pain was indescribable and the pressure only got more intense yet I knew it had to get a lot worse before it got better. Alone, at home, whilst Derek was called in for an emergency Craniotomy, the feat kicked in instantly and the only thing I knew how to do under all the pressure of me being the person and not the doctor, was to call an ambulance. I needed Derek and wanted him by my side to see his child be born, so keeping this baby in my womb was my main focus until his hands were in mine and his lips were pressed against my forehead giving me words of encouragement.

'Urghh, you son of a bitch!' I screamed as I gripped the island counter, digging my nails into the marble stone until a fingernail broke.

I could hear sirens just they didn't seem to travel any closer to me. Breathing as best I could and somehow managing to focus on how far apart my contractions were, right then it finally kicked in that this was happening. After everything that had happened previously, the nearly not marring Derek, then the affair, the attack, the miscarriage, finally I was going to be able to hold our making in my arms. I never thought my hands were made for motherhood but every step of this pregnancy proved me damn right wrong.

*At the Hospital*

After eventually being rescued by people I then thought to be God, I was metaphorically thrown into the back of the rig and transported to the hospital where I would hopefully see my husband very shortly after. Set up in a room, Derek was paged, Cristina had now joined me and asking me if I wanted any pain management whatsoever, which I politely refused.

'If I'm gonna do this naturally, I may as well do it as if I was in nature. No drugs. Unless I really really need them,' I reassured her.

'What do you mean unless you really really need them? You just said you didn't want any.' She replied sounding extremely confused and dazed.

'I mean, if i'm like biting Derek's hand off in pain, then give me some and Derek because he'll probably need it at that point.'

'You're in labour. You don't make sense.'

I didn't reply to that offensive statement since yet another contraction interrupted our debate. The midwife swiftly walked over from the desk to exam me whilst I was scrunching and moaning in pain.

'Meredith, you're moving quicker than we expected. You're at 9 centimetres already.'

I glared at her, mortified and shocked and then panicked and occupied by the fact that Derek wasn't here yet and the baby was ready to be brought into the world. A sickening, frightening feeling swallowed me and the tears started frantically flowing, probably because of the hormones but more for the fact that I couldn't stop this now. I couldn't stop the baby from coming if Derek wasn't here. He was so distraught when our first child was born and he would be so devastated if he missed the next.

'Cristina. Grab me. Hold my arm.' I ordered, climbing out of the bed and practically now walking like I'd shit myself.

'Er, Mer? Wait. What are you doing? Where are you going?' She stood in one positioned blocking me from the door way.

'I'm going to get Derek myself. I'm walking to that OR and I'm going to march his arse to this room until I've pushed a human out of a very small hole.'

She kept laughing at me throughout the whole morning, telling me I was hilarious which only pissed me off even more.

'Sit down. You're not going anywhere.'

'Cristina Yang! I am going to get my husband whether I'm crowning or not. You can help me or you can leave me helpless but whether you like it or not, I will see the inside of an OR today.

'Okay, okay.' She panicked as she realised there was no stopping a pregnant labouring woman at 9cm. She hurried back with a wheelchair from the corridor as I was already out of the doorway and I immediately slumped into it as I felt another contraction pierce through my womb. I gritted my teeth, screamed through my teeth and clenched the chair arms so tightly that my hands were the colour of my ivory wedding dress.

Cristina, rapidly rushed me to the OR were Derek was and swung the door straight open.

'DEREK SHEPHERD, you better have an excellent explanation as to why you're not in the room with you're wife who is 1cm away from delivering your child.' I yelled at the top of my lungs, not caring who was in the OR.

A polite, very frightened looking intern reply to my bellow and informed me he was currently scrubbing out. I stood up out of the wheelchair and barged my way through the scrub room door.

'Derek!'

'Meredith, what the hell are you doing?' He asked dropping his towel and running to catch me from falling through the door.

'I'm having your child is what I'm doing.'

This time, as the contraction overcame by body, I cried with the pain and fell straight into Derek's open arms. Catching me like always he placed me back into the seat and ran with me back to the delivery suite.

Thankfully, now I was propped up in the bed with Derek by my side, holding my hand and kissing my forehead, like I needed and once again being examined by my extraordinary midwife who delivered the horrifying news that 10cm was the size of 'you know what'.

'Derek, I'm so sorry for screaming at you and calling you a bastard.'

'You didn't call me that.'

'No I did, in the rig when you weren't with me. I just couldn't do this without you. And you need to see your daughter be born.'

'You ready?'

'No. But we're gonna.'