Live, Laugh, Loathe

Chapter 32: Drew

At thirty-nine weeks, I walk around the office in slippers and glare at anyone who even raises an eyebrow.

Try being this close to your due date and walk around in regular shoes. It's impossible. I've also abandoned most of my work-appropriate maternity clothes. We don't do video calls much at our company, so most days, I can get away with my more casual maternity outfits. And seeing as I could go into labor any moment now, I don't see the point in trying too hard.

The first morning I walked out of my closet in what can only be described as fancy sweats, Damon simply gave me a long look before herding me out the door.

Ever since he showed me the nearly complete nursery, I've been nesting hard. We now have more baby items than our kid will ever need, and I've baby-proofed the entire apartment. Damon helped when I allowed, but I mostly just found myself wanting to do it alone.

The baby has now dropped and is in the correct position for delivery and we're keeping our fingers crossed he stays that way. Measurements put him or her in about the fifty-fifth percentile, so on the smaller side but still a healthy size. I sure as hell don't mind that the baby is on the smaller side. Every day is a gamble now on when things will start moving.

And today's the day.

I haven't said anything, though, which makes me a bit itchy. I was showering alone this morning when I felt something legit fall out of me. When I looked down at the shower floor, it looked like a glob of glue. Patricia prepared us for this, so I know it was my mucus plug. Typically, one of the first signs your labor is coming, and soon.

I've also kind of just been uncomfortable all day. No cramping or anything, just achy.

But from what I've learned, I could feel like this for days before I actually go into labor, so I haven't said anything to Damon. I know he'll want us to rush to the birth center, and I'm not ready. Plus, we have a ton of work to do before I go on leave; I need all the time I can get.

"You keep shifting in your seat like you're uncomfortable. Is everything ok, Drew?" Damon's voice drifts from inside his office. Damn, he's got eagle eyes.

I turn my chair around and attempt to look normal. "Yes!" Yikes, that sounded squeaky. "I'm just a little uncomfortable now that the baby's dropped. Nothing to worry about."

He eyes me skeptically like he doesn't believe me. Which to be fair, I am lying a teeny, tiny bit. "Hmmm, ok, but you need to tell me the moment anything doesn't feel right. Promise me."

He holds my gaze, and I know if I look away, he'll realize something is up. "I promise. I will tell you if something feels wrong."

Seemingly satisfied, he turns back to his monitor, likely reviewing the preliminary end-of-year reports that the board will review this afternoon. It's a big deal here, as our fiscal year follows the western calendar rather than a June/July one. The board meets twice, once during the week after Thanksgiving in the US, to review preliminary reports and once right after Christmas to review and approve again.

There are usually some final adjustments made during the first month or two of the new year, but ninety percent of the reporting is finalized before New Year's Eve.

Today's meeting is significant because it's Damon's first year presenting. Typically, Matt presents with the help of execs, but he volunteered Damon to do it this time. Everyone knows this is his first official step in signaling to the board that Damon will be replacing him soon. It's vital that today goes off without a hitch because it could make or break his shot at CEO.

So, when I start to feel sporadic contractions, I keep them to myself. Technically, they feel normal, right, so I'm not breaking my promise to tell Damon if something feels wrong. My body is ready for this, and I know it's still too early to need constant medical supervision.

Noon rolls around, and Damon exits his office, pausing to kiss me as he leaves. The meeting is being held a few floors up where there are bigger conference rooms. "I'm headed up, but I ordered you some food for lunch. It should be here shortly." I smile; he's so thoughtful. When the food arrives, I eat as much as I can. I know they won't allow me to eat once I'm in the confines of a medical building.

It's nearing three when I have to face the fact that it's time. I call Patricia and leave her a message. I also call Damon's car service and arrange to be taken home first, then the birth center. I need to grab our 'go-bag' and a few other items. As soon as Damon's out of his meeting, I know he'll run straight to the hospital. He'll be mad enough as is; I don't want him worrying about grabbing anything else.

On my way down, I stop at Allison's desk. She'll officially be taking over my job as Damon's assistant. Part-time while he's on leave, then full-time when he returns. They're working on hiring a new receptionist too. She's been a huge help these last few weeks getting ready, and I know we made the right choice in offering her the promotion. She's more than ready.

When I exit the elevator, Allison's head pops up with her customary smile. It slips through the moment she gets a good look at my face. I must not be hiding this well anymore.

"Are you?" She doesn't complete her sentence, probably unsure if it's appropriate to even ask.

"Yes, Allison, I am in labor. Damon does not know; I don't want him distracted during his meeting. When they break at five, can you please tell him in person that I went home and then to the birth center?"

Her eyes go wide, clearly surprised that I'm going by myself. I know I don't need to, but I elaborate, "This is a big meeting for Damon, the first step in him taking over for Matt in a few years. It will be hours before things get serious on my end; I don't want to interrupt this opportunity."

She looks skeptical but nods. We share one last meaningful look before I head back to the elevators. "Good luck!" She calls as the elevator doors close.

Thanks, I think to myself, I'm going to need it.

It's baby time.