“Yes! I remember Addison well.”
She’s a hard one to forget. “Probably because she showed her ass so bad.”
“She was fun to take care of. Her poor husband is the one who had to lie down on the couch with his legs up.”
“What happened to Zac?”
Oh, I forgot to tell Jack Henry about that. “He got a little woozy during the epidural. Said he can’t stand needles.” I shrug. “He says tattoo needles are different than medical needles so he totally wussed out. I had to take care of him because Amy was busy with Addison.”
He’s highly amused. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“The only thing on my mind was Donavon’s arrival.”
Amy passes me a gown. “Take everything off, ties go in the back, and I’ll return in a few to get you hooked up on the monitor.”
“That was kind of hot hearing another woman tell you to take everything off.”
Good grief. “Oh, give me a break.”
“I have—an eighteen-week break.” I slip my top over my head and then remove my bra.
He never needs to throw this break in my face after all I’ve done for him. “Hey, I’ve compensated in other areas for you. Not every pregnant wife would be so generous.”
“I’m so very thankful. You’ll never know how much I’ve enjoyed every single time you wrapped your pretty little mouth around my cock. Your hand jobs are an art form in themselves, especially with that little trick you do, but I’ve got to tell you that I’m beyond excited about getting inside you again.”
What he just said registers in my head. “Omigod. You don’t want me to go into labor after the cerclage removal because you want to go home and fuck.”
He’s all smiles. “No, babe. I want to go home and make love to you.”
Does he really think he can show me his dimples and talk about making love to get me on board with staying pregnant so he can get some? “Don’t give me that bullshit. Call it what you like but both equate to you getting what you want.”
“You don’t seem excited about it.”
He looks hurt but I don’t want him to be. I’m just really excited about getting our baby. “Don’t take it personally, but I’m way more excited about having this baby in my arms.”
“I’m ready for her too, but I’m not opposed to knowing my wife again, at least once before this little one decides to arrive. It’s been a really, really long time.”
He’s been so good throughout the whole pregnancy, never asking me for anything and cheerfully seeing to my every whim—driving into town in the dead of night for a cheeseburger and fries, massaging my lower back when it ached, shaving my legs for me, and painting my toenails when I was too embarrassed to show my swollen feet at the salon. He’s been beyond considerate of my feelings, even when I wasn’t on my best behavior because of pregnancy hormones. “Okay. If I don’t go into labor, then you can know your wife again tonight.”
He whispers, “Yes,” and does a fist pump. “No way I’m waiting until tonight and chancing you going into labor. If you don’t stay to have this baby, we’re going straight home to our bedroom. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.”
He’s being so silly. “Can you wait until we get home, or should we stop for a hotel room to be safe?”
“That’s not a bad idea.”
Surely, he realizes I was joking. “I was kidding, horn dog.”
Amy returns and places two monitors on my abdomen, one for the baby’s heartbeat and the other to pick up contractions. I’ve heard the baby’s heartbeat many times but never for this long at once. I can’t stop being mesmerized by it. “What are you having?”
I expect Jack Henry to blurt out that it’s a girl but he doesn’t. “We don’t know. It’s a surprise.”
“I love when parents don’t find out. It’s so much fun. What do you think it is?”
“I think it’s a boy.” I look over at Jack Henry and he winks at me. “He thinks it’s a girl.”
Amy picks up the printout and looks for a moment. “I’m going girl based on the higher heart rate.”
I read that online. “Is that true? A girl has a faster heartbeat?”
“It’s an old wives’ tale—and obviously isn’t a hundred percent—but I can tell you that after working here for thirteen years, I think there’s some truth to it.”
Jack Henry is grinning, so sure of himself, as he has been since eighteen weeks when he saw the baby’s face for the first time. “She said it’s an old wives’ tale so calm down.”
“She also said she’s worked here thirteen years and believes there’s some truth to it,” he argues.
Dr. Sommersby comes into the room and interrupts our debate. “Are we ready to get this stitch out?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
The bed is converted so my feet are placed in footrests and a speculum is inserted. “This part is just like when you get a Pap.” I try to relax, concentrating on my breathing, but I’m nervous. I researched cerclage removal before we came and most people said it hurt.
She’s moving the speculum around and it’s a lot of pressure. I tense when I shouldn’t. “Hang in there, Laurelyn. I know it’s uncomfortable but I’ll try to keep the discomfort to a minimum.”
I hear the sound of the scissors snip and I swear it feels like she nicked my cervix. I involuntarily jerk. “Sorry, Laurelyn. There’s a little bit of scar tissue grown over the suture so you’re going to feel a little tugging.”
A little tugging, my ass! A much more accurate description would be that I’ll feel like my cervix is connected to a four-wheel drive and will be yanked out through my vagina. I tense again, squeezing Jack Henry’s hand, and cry out because I can’t stop myself. “Ohh …” It’s not my good kind of ohh that Jack Henry evokes. It’s my damn, I’m hurting really bad ohh. Huge difference!
“The stitch is out so I’m going to check your cervix and see how much you’re dilated.” I feel the pressure of her fingers, which is minimally better than the speculum. “You’re between two and three centimeters so we’ll let you hang out here for a few hours and see if anything happens. I don’t want you to eat because if you go into labor, I’m not stopping you, even though you’re technically still considered preterm.”