Temporary Secretary

Part 72

5 November 1981

Thursday 12:03am

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Your water had broken at 7pm. It had been five hours since then.

You went from having a contraction every half hour, to once every twenty minutes, at thirty seconds each.

The worst part was not knowing exactly when they would come, even if you watched the clock. You'd tried that. Even so, a countdown didn't make it better.

You paced back and forth in the flat, rubbing your lower back, wincing.

There was not a lot to do to distract yourself, even if you could forget about the inevitable ordeal you were in for. Well, it had already started. It would get increasingly difficult. Unbearable, even, until it was over. That's what you'd heard.

It was past midnight now.

Maybe today it'd be born. Unless it went into tomorrow. You dreaded the thought, and blocked it out. It was possible. Some labors could last days.

Hell, what the Hell did you get yourself into. Idiot.

If it took that long you'd just have it cut out of you. It wasn't worth it.

Your water had broken when you were asleep. Luckily it didn't get on the sheets as much as you'd feared.

"I'm going to have to change, haven't I." You said. "I can't show up to the hospital in my nightgown."

"Doubt they'll mind." He said, pleasant. "It might be cold out, though, so you oughta bring your overcoat."

He had been unsure whether to sit or stand as he waited, but he eventually took a seat by the kitchen counter, hands folded in his lap.

You turned your head toward him, a pinched smile.

"It won't fit me." You said, curt.

Paul remained as carefree as before, nothing able to affect his good mood.

"Use mine." He said. "I can bring yours along. You can wear it on the way back."

You turned pacing the other way.

It might not fit. You wouldn't go down right away. It might not button. You hadn't worn it since the previous spring. You hadn't even begun to show then. Not until the summer, really.

What if your body never returned to what it once was.

Your back felt tight, and you were fearful, anticipating the next one. It had been fifteen minutes since your last. You had to keep track.

"Oh lord." You said. "Oh, fucking hell Paul. This thing's going to be out."

"Yeah!" He said.

It was difficult for him to conceal the excitement, though you knew he was giving an attempt. He knew his excitement was your dread. He got off so easy, didn't he.

"Fucking hell, procreation is a real trip, isn't it."

He nodded, pleased.

You expected yourself to be more panicked than you were. In all honesty, you were relieved it had come, after it stubbornly refusing progress. You had wanted it out quite soon, only the thought of birth scaring you off. But it had to happen, didn't it.

Even if you had to take care of an infant, changing your life forever, actually having a child of your own, at least you'd get a version of your body back. You were sick and tired of being pregnant. It felt longer than the nine months, or ten months. It felt like it'd been over a year of this, dragging on and on.