Baby Steps

The Storm

Brooke Lynn's POV:

38 weeks 6 days…

No baby yet. Although Vanessa is having almost unbearable hip pain, our bowling pin sized little girl is staying firmly put in my wife’s belly. Bowling pin. I think that’s the first time this whole pregnancy that the baby hasn’t been compared to a food.

39 weeks 2 days…

“Hey Brooke.”

“Hey mom.” I replied into the phone, “what’s up?”
“Can I borrow your car?” I heard the hope in her voice, “My car is in the shop and your father needs his.”

With it being so close to Vanessa giving birth, I was hesitant. But she did have her own car that we could use if we needed.

“Yeah mom, come get it tonight.”
“Thanks hon.”

39 weeks 6 days…

I woke up early that morning for some reason. I didn’t need to be. I checked the clock, 6am. Why am I up? Then I heard it.

Vanessa’s breathing. Her breathing was weird. She’s whimpering.

“Baby? Are you ok?” I said, opening my eyes and looking over at her, and she held up one finger.

Oh no. Oh no.

“Babe?!” my voice dripped with urgency. Her finger was still up.

After another few seconds, she lowered her hand, and exhaled deeply.

“I think that she’s trying to make a break for it.”

I laughed at her choice of words, then it hit me. We’re having a baby. Soon.

“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.” Is all I can think to say, “what do I do? What can I do? What do you need?”

“I want a shower. Can you help me get in the shower?”

I nod, and that is exactly what I do. The shower seems to help her. I help her get dressed and then we get back into bed just in time for another contraction. Vanessa is almost doubled over in the bed, with me rubbing her back slowly. The contractions steadily get closer together, a minute at a time.

“10 minutes apart now.” Vanessa says, it’s been almost 7 hours, “at this point, she might be here by tomorrow.”

“What can I do?” I ask, Vanessa just shakes her head. Nothing. All day it’s been nothing.

Once the contractions get to 8 minutes, I go to get the car started so we can head to the hospital. One problem: The car won’t start.

“Fuck!” I yell, heading back inside, “Babe, your car won’t start, and mom still has mine. I’m going to call Nina.”

Vanessa groans in response. She’s so tired. I can see it. She’s tired, and in pain, and I want nothing more than to take that pain away.

Nina says she will be here as soon as she can.

While we wait, I glance out the living room window. It looks like its about to pour.

 7 minutes.

“Babe, why does it look like it’s about to storm?” Vanessa asks as she paces around the couch, hands on her lower back.

“Uhm, because it might. I just hope Nina can get to us before it does.”