Yes, Boss

one hundered and nineteen.

Harry. 

I watch the sun shine through the window of the delivery room, spreading overly bright light onto the floor. Flora digs her nails into my arm right on the three minute mark, as I expected, this time only a small and exhausted whimper escaping her lips. It took until the early hours for contractions to reach the point required for the hospital leaving her unable to rest at all with 5 minutely agony and me unable to rest to being the nearest thing to squeeze. 

"Hey, it's okay" I say softly, starting to wonder how much longer it's okay will cut it. I lean forward to sweep a section of her fringe from her face as she squeezes her eyes shut whilst she rides it out, the contractions almost extending as long as the break she gets in between. 

We tried everything, bath, bed, even sitting at the top of the stairs for a while. Her head on my shoulder as I told her about when I used to slide down the long banister when I was a kid. The prolonged pain and activity leaving her tank on empty, now we've checked into the hospital she hasn't moved from the bed, having been promised pain relief within the next half an hour and checked over and promised that everything is moving ever so smoothly. 

"Is there anything I can do?" I ask as she opens her eyes to look at me, sitting up a little in the bed. She shakes her head. 

"Coffee? Food? Midwife said eat if you think you can?" I say, pulling my horribly uncomfortable plastic chair closer to the bedside, to put an arm around her waist. She shakes her head weakly. 

"I feel sick" She whispers, a sheen on sweat on her pale forehead. I casually take a cardboard sickbowl from the side, placing it readily in my lap just in case. 

"Water?" I coax. 

"I just want the pain relief" She says, her teeth biting deep into her bottom lip. I sigh, wishing there was something else I could do. 

"I know baby, they're sorting it, you're doing so good" I say soothingly, pressing my lips to her temple. The door creaks open and my mum is back, two coffee's in her hands, I take one gratefully, although I feel like I could do with 5, it takes me 2 to get through a morning at the office.

"I want to sit on the floor" She says, making an attempt to move off the bed. 

"The floor?" I question a little stunned. 

"Just listen to her love" My mum interjects as I help Flora from the bed to sit on the cold lino. She sighs in slight relief, I shrug, sitting down opposite her and taking a large gulp of my coffee, the steaming liquid burning my mouth. 15 minutes and 5 non-progressive contractions later there's a knock at the door and in steps the cheerful midwife. 

"Did someone ask for gas and air?" She says, tone jolly. Flora whimpers mid contraction, holding her hand out loosely, her other hand gripping my thigh so tightly I'm probably getting nail marks through my jeans. 

"Alright darling it's alright, I just want to check you and see how those babies are progressing and then you can have as much as you like" She soothes Flora, coming over to rub her shoulder gently. I help her get on the bed, much to her dis-satisfaction. 

"Still three minutes apart?" She asks hesitantly, checking the repetitive chart. 

"Like clockwork.." I say. 

"I was hoping that twin B would turn, usually when labour is in full swing the baby works it out. If she's not ready to push and he hasn't turned within 4 hours then I'm afraid we'll have to opt for a c-section" She says, pulling of her gloves. 

"A.. a c-section? Really?" I say nervously. 

"5 HOURS?!" Flora whimpers, I tuck strands of her hair behind her ear