It was around 3:00 AM when Aiah woke up to a strange, tight sensation in her lower belly. At first, she thought it might just be another one of the Braxton Hicks contractions she'd been experiencing off and on for the past few weeks, but this one felt... different. Stronger. A little sharper. She groaned softly, turning over in bed, and instinctively placed a hand on her bump.
"Babe," she whispered, her voice cutting through the quiet of the early morning. Mikha, who had been snoring softly beside her, didn't stir. "Babe!" Aiah said louder this time, nudging Mikha's shoulder.
Mikha woke with a start, her red hair sticking up at odd angles. "Huh? What? Anong nangyari?!" she asked, her voice still thick with sleep as she bolted upright.
"I think... I think something's happening," Aiah said, her eyes wide as she winced through another tight sensation. "It's not Braxton Hicks. It feels... stronger."
Mikha's sleepy expression immediately vanished, replaced with sheer panic. "What do you mean something's happening? Are you—are you in labor?!"
"I don't know!" Aiah said, her voice rising as she clutched her belly. "It feels like it, but I don't know if it's real or not! Oh my god, babe, what if this is it?"
"Wait, wait, wait!" Mikha exclaimed, scrambling out of bed so fast that she tripped over her slippers. "Okay, stay calm. I'm calm. We're calm. We've got this."
"You are not calm," Aiah muttered, watching as Mikha darted around the room like a headless chicken, throwing open drawers and yanking clothes out at random. "Babe, can you just—ow!" Another sharp sensation made her inhale deeply. "Can you focus?!"
"I'm focusing!" Mikha shouted, holding up two shirts, one inside out and the other clearly too small for her. "Which one do I—no time! Okay! I'll just—okay!" She tossed on the inside-out shirt without even realizing it and fumbled for a pair of pants, not noticing that they were wrinkled from being stuffed at the back of the drawer.
Meanwhile, Aiah tried to steady her breathing, watching Mikha with a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Babe, you're panicking. You're making me panic."
"I'm not panicking!" Mikha yelled, clearly panicking as she shoved her feet into a pair of mismatched shoes—a sneaker on one foot and a flip-flop on the other. "I'm just... strategically preparing! Okay, the hospital bag! Where's the hospital bag?!"
"It's by the door, Mikha," Aiah said, rolling her eyes even as another twinge made her grip the edge of the bed. "Like we planned. Remember?"
"Right, right, right! By the door!" Mikha grabbed the hospital bag and hoisted it over her shoulder before turning to Aiah, her face frantic. "Okay, let's go! Wait—wait, do we have the keys? Do we need snacks? Oh god, the car seat! Do we need the car seat already?!"
"Mikha, breathe!" Aiah snapped, holding up a hand to stop her wife from spiraling further. "Let's just get to the hospital first, okay? We can figure the rest out later."
Mikha nodded rapidly, her hands shaking as she helped Aiah out of bed. "Okay. Hospital first. I'm ready. I got this."
/
By the time they made it to the car, Mikha was a full-blown disaster. Her shirt was still inside out, her mismatched shoes clapped against the pedals as she drove, and her hair was sticking up in every direction. Aiah sat in the passenger seat, clutching her belly and glancing at Mikha out of the corner of her eye.
"Babe," Aiah said, her tone laced with amusement despite the situation. "Your shirt's inside out."
Mikha glanced down briefly, groaning when she realized Aiah was right. "I don't care! Nobody's going to care about my shirt! They're going to care about you. And our baby."
