Madam President ✓

31. Childbirth

Tanya
17 years ago

   She's been silent and still for a few hours now, but the doctor said that is normal- that if it continues for longe than a day to come in. By the overly large windows  in my parents living room, I sit. They insisted that I not work during my pregnancy and it's driven me crazy- because for once they're actually pretending to care about my existence.

  I am grateful they didn't ask many questions about her father; because I do regret sleeping with him. Not that I regret what's about to come out of it- being as pregnant as I am, but if I could've done it again- I would sleep with the guy my parents tried to set me up with last year. The son of one of their friends- he has more money than the people in my family combined, which is saying a lot- but the one time I met him he was a real ass.

  I think his name was Fredrick or something like that. Don't know, don't care.

  I struggle to stand up, my stretched midsection being the cause. Before, I was already clumsy. Now, I fall or trip at least twice a day. Gaining thirty pounds in less than five months'll do that to a person- the cheesecake cravings I like to blame on the girl in my uterus, who is nearly done developing now- don't help.

  When I finally do manage to get up, a sharp pain shoots up my back and wraps around my stomach, radiating outwards. Braxton Hicks. Fun.

I have a high pain tolerance, yet these still get to me. I try to breathe through it, but this one seems to be worse that the others. It lasts a full minute, so I'm sweating by the time it's over, trying to catch my breath.

  "Ma'm? Are you alright?" One of the newer maids asks. The ones who raised me just call me Tanya.

  "Yeah I'm... I'm good. And Tanya is fine."

  "Yes Ma'm- Tanya. Sorry." The maid says. "It's a force of habit."

  "I understand." I say. "Do we have the stuff to make oreo cheesecake right no-"

MOTHER-FUCKING JESUS CHRIST OW- is what comes to mind as another one hits.

This is the worst one to date, even compared to the first I felt. It's too early for.... Isn't it?

  "Tanya.... I am going to call your driver and parents now."

  "But-"

  "I have had thirteen children in the past twenty years. You are in labor-" As if on cue, there's a loud pop and clear liquid starts pouring from under my dress like a waterfall. "Like I said."

  No, no no it's too soon.

  It's too soon and....

  I guess it doesn't matter which way I deliver her. She will not come into this world easily or without health problems.

  "I can't, I mean I'm not ready and neither is she- JESUS!!"

  The maid rushes to my side. "It should not hurt this much this early on-" She places the phone back to her ear. "NOW, yes! Right fucking now!"

Ten seconds later my parents- whose sleep was disturbed by the noise, and my driver- who I assume she called, are both coming through the door.

"What's happening?" My mother asks, concerned for her grandchild and not her actual kid. "I swear to god if you-"

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're gonna blame early labor on me?"

"Nothing happens without a reason. If you'd gone to see that doctor I'd suggested instead of your-"