We’re left alone for two minutes before the anesthesiologist knocks on the door with his assistant. The heavens part and shine light down on my savior as he strolls in with his cart. I love him. I’m going to kiss him right here in front of Connor. He tells me to turn and sit with my back facing the edge of the bed so he can shove a gargantuan needle into my back. It doesn’t hurt like people say it does. Nothing can hurt me now. I’ve lived through hours of contractions. The wheel of a semitruck could roll over my foot and I wouldn’t even blink.
Once they’re gone and the room is quiet, reality sets in. I’m in a hospital room. I will not leave here without a baby. Oh my GOD, my life is never going to be the same.
“Connor!” I snap, like he’s my assistant and I’m Miranda Priestly. “We have things we need to do.” I tick off tasks on my fingers. “First, call Noah. He needs to get my go bag. And my pillow. And I forgot to pack my slippers, so tell him to grab those too. And can you call your parents? And my parents? Tell them I’m in labor. Who else should we call? LINDSEY! Call Lindsey now and hand me the phone so I can scream at her for not warning me enough about the pain.”
“Okay,” Connor says, pressing me back gently until I hit the pillows. “Those are all good suggestions, but why don’t we just take a breath here.”
“I haven’t taken a full breath for three months now. The demon you implanted inside me is sitting right on my diaphragm.”
“All right, here. Watch.” He extracts his phone from the back pocket of his scrubs. “I’m texting everyone right now. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”
Except for you know, THE thing, the reason we’re all here.
Fifteen minutes later, Lindsey barges into my room without even knocking. It’s not surprising. She works in the unit after all and, as it happens, one of her patients is in labor only a few rooms down from mine.
I’ve never seen Connor look so relieved. “Lindsey. Finally.” He walks toward her with quick, long strides and pushes her toward my hospital bed. “You need to talk some sense into your friend.”
He means me, the woman whose epidural just kicked in, the woman who thinks her labor has stopped and she can just go back home and come back another day.
“I just think, y’know, it’s two weeks early. My due date hasn’t come yet and I’m not sure Lenny can be trusted. He thinks my water broke but—”
“Your water did break,” Connor reminds me. “The doctor just confirmed that.”
Right.
“Who’s Lenny?” Lindsey asks, glancing between Connor and me.
Connor throws his hands up into the air and walks right out of the room, like he can’t handle this amount of crazy.
“Lenny is your replacement. My new BFF.”
“Uh-huh,” she says, coming to sit on the side of my bed. She reaches out gently and brushes my hair away from my face. We aren’t the touchy-feely type of friends. Still, I don’t jerk away. It’s kind of nice.
“You’re going to be okay. You know that, right?”
“How can I trust you?”
She ignores my question; it is rather ridiculous given that her white coat is embroidered with Lindsey M. Brooks, Obstetrics and Gynecology. I suppose she knows a thing or two about this kind of thing.
“You’re going to be the best mom. You’re smart and thoughtful and kind—”
“I’m not that kind.”
“You care about the people in your life. You have such a huge heart. Think of all the children you’ve operated on over the years, how carefully you’ve treated them, how much you’ve cared about them, just like they were your own.”
“Please stop making me cry.”
“It’s the hormones.”
“I’m so scared,” I whisper. “Can you be my doctor again, please? You can look at my vagina. I don’t even care at this point.”
She laughs. “I have my own patients I need to tend to, but you don’t need to worry—Dr. McHugh is great. Remember, she’s the person who trained me. You’re in good hands.”
I sniffle and nod.
Connor steps back into the room and presents me with a Jell-O cup, a popsicle, and some ice chips. I think he expected me to pick one of the three, but I’m starving now that the epidural has taken the edge off my pain. I hadn’t been able to eat much all day with the contractions going on, so I gladly accept all the snacks as Lindsey excuses herself from the room.
“Better now?” he asks, keeping a healthy distance.
I glance up at him and for the first time, I notice the worry lines between his brows, the careful way he’s watching me, the anxious shuffling of his weight from one foot to the other. This day isn’t just about me. Connor’s life is changing too.