I am packing up for Maddie’s weekend getaway when Ben strolls into her room. He picks a toy from the floor, tosses it into the air and catches it. I stall when he crosses over to me. All his attempts to take over the packing from me are futile. He protests by shaking his head. I am pregnant, not handicapped.
When the bag is zipped up, I lower myself to the bed to catch my breath. Maybe I should have let him do it. But he never lets me do anything.
Worried eyes stare into mine as Ben kneels between my legs. I’m fine, just tired. I pick the stuffed bear he dropped on the bed and sniff it. It smells like Maddie. And if I listen closely, I’ll hear her voice as she sings along with her favourite characters on TV.
Maddie’s grandparents—my parents are in town because I’m due next week. They don’t want to miss it. She’s spending the weekend with them.
Ben pries the bear from me and traces the lines on my palm. My free hand itches to run through his hair but I resist the urge to do it. He wants to say something I won’t like.
“Babe, are you sure you can join us?” My nose wrinkles, it’s a bit bigger now, thanks to pregnancy. I retract my hand from his grasp. I’m not even doing anything. I’ll just sit in the car while he drives us to my parent’s hotel. “You don’t have to join us. I know the hotel. I’ll drive her there, Gracie.”
“Benny,” I warn. I also want to see my parents. We might live in the same country but the distance has made their visit less frequent. “I’m alright, babe.”
Pressing the back of his palm to my forehead, Ben says, “But you look tired.”
“I’m totally fine,” I say. I run circles along my temples. “You’re stressing me and the baby.”
“Hey. I didn’t mean it that way and you know that. I’m just worried.” He doesn’t have to be. I’m not going to see my daughter for another three days, I deserve these last few minutes with her. He tilts my chin and his voice lowers to a convincing murmur. “You’re due in a week.”
“In a week, Benny. Not today.” Wrapping my arms around my belly, my lower lip juts out. He sighs and I sniff. “I want to follow you. I will follow you.”
“You see, this is how Maddie asks,” he starts with a smile that shows I’m getting to him. I thread my fingers through his beards. “With her cute face and lips pouted like this. How do you expect me to say no to her? I can’t even say no to you and I should be saying no.”
“It’s not the same.”
“I know,” he whines. His nose touches mine. “I still think you should stay at home and rest. Let me go alone. I don’t want anything to happen while we are in the car. I can ask your parents to come pick her.”
I shake my head. “No. We promised to bring her to them.”
“But you don’t look okay,” he counters.
“Okay. How about this, yeah? We go together and...” His frown deepens and I lace our fingers. “... If I feel the slightest bit uncomfortable, we...”
“We, what?” he asks.
I don’t know. I can’t ask him to stop midway to their hotel. They picked a hotel closer to the hospital than our house. Ben raises my hand to his mouth and sucks on my thumb. A yawn escapes me.
“Let’s just call them,” he says. A kick from inside my belly elicits a small laugh from us. I place my hand on my belly and as soon as Ben’s hand covers mine, our baby boy kicks again. “We should take that as a yes, babe. He is telling us what to do.”
“I won’t do the calling,” I tell him.
He chuckles and helps me up to my feet. His arm settles on the small of my back as he guides me out of Maddie’s room.
“I want to see Maddie,” I whisper. I might be asleep when my parents arrive and they won’t wake me up to see them. They pamper me too much. Ben directs me to the living room. Maddie is dancing. At our footsteps, she spins. “Great dancing, sweetheart.”
“Mummy. Daddy.” Ben leaves my side to carry his daughter. Maddie eyes me. “Is Mummy okay?”
“Yes,” I reply.
Ben drops her to the floor and squats to her height. “I’m going to call your grandparents so they will come pick you.” Maddie lets out a squeal and starts running in circles around Ben. I move closer to the wall for support. “You like that?” She pauses long enough to nod. He laughs. “Grandpa and Grandma.”
“Grandma and Grandpa. Yay!” Maddie screams.
“I’m going to take Mummy inside, then I will call them,” he tells Maddie. She doesn’t stop running, only nods. Ben returns to me. One look at my face and he pales. “Are you sure you are okay, babe?”
“Yeah,” I mumble. My hand moves under my stomach. “Just need to lie down for a little bit. Your son keeps playing around. I think he wants out right now.” Ben turns whiter. “Babe, I’m kidding.”
My reply earns me a kiss to my lips and we start for our room. Ben fluffs the pillows, smoothens the smooth bedsheet. When I’m tucked in bed, with the cover over my chest, Ben finally relaxes.
Stroking my hair, he says, “I’m about to call your parents.” His gaze stays on my face throughout the call. I smile when he smiles, frown when he frowns. After the call, he slips out of his shirt. “They will be here soon.”
My eyes close, I whisper, “Okay, Benny.”
The bed dips with his weight as he edges closer to me. His arm lowers to caress my belly and I push it away. I throw the cover off me and slowly shift to a sitting position. Ben’s worried gaze scrutinises me. But I don’t have any good explanation for my reaction. I don’t know why I feel restless.
Ben says nothing but mimics my position, propping his back against the headboard. He takes my hand in silent support. “Just squeeze my hand if you need anything.”
My throat closes up, all I do is nod. Closing my eyes, I rest my head on his shoulder and wait for this uncertainty to pass. Anxiety taints the air and my breathing eventually falls into a calmer rhythm. Something wet trickles between my legs and a mild pain spreads through my lower belly. I squeeze his hand. My eyelids flutter but I don’t open them.
“Benny,” I whisper, “I think my water just broke.” He’s silent. Deathly silent. I hope he has not passed out. I’ll kill him. Another bout of mild pain hits me. “Benny. My water–”
“Yeah. Yeah, got it.” Ben jumps out of the bed and stalks to the wardrobe. A second later, he returns to me empty-handed. I whimper. He needs to snap out of it. I need to get to the hospital. “Sorry.” I bite my lips and clutch the sheet. He dashes for our closet and grabs the baby bag. I heave a sigh of relief when he carries me. “Just breathe through it, okay?”
I almost laugh. I can hear the fear in his voice. Fear I try not to feel. The baby is too early. I hide my face in his chest. Maddie says something I can’t decipher. When my eyes open, the car is in view.
Maddie joins me in the backseat. “What’s wrong?”
“Your brother is about to come out,” I reply.
She doesn’t say anything. Ben’s voice comes from the front seat. “I’ll call your parents on our way there.” I flash him a weak smile. “Love you, babe.”
Love you too.
The car starts. I’m not sure Ben remembered to lock the doors. The thought cracks me up a little. I hold on to that smile throughout the drive to the hospital.
Tiny hands pry mine open, then a soft sigh follows. I take the comfort my daughter offers me, slipping in and out of consciousness and half-awakeness.
“Daddy?” Maddie’s voice rings out in the car. I’m not sure where we are. Maybe if I open my eyes I’ll know our location but I feel sleepy. “There’s blood on mummy’s dress. Oh. It’s on her legs too. Daddy?”
Ben curses. The car picks up speed. “Babe?” Ben calls out to me. I murmur something incoherent. Maddie’s hand is still in mine, I cling to it so I don’t fall asleep. “Gracie? We are almost there, babe. Just try to breathe through it. I’m calling the doctor.”
Good. Maybe he will tell me what to do so I will stay awake. I can’t push if I’m asleep.
The car finally screeches to a stop and the backdoor is wrenched open. Ben gently peels me off the seat. There’s a stickiness between my legs that doesn’t feel like water.
Ben gulps audibly. I tuck my head into the crook of his shoulder. “Is it that bad?” I ask.
“Not really,” he lies. We start moving. My ears strain to pick Maddie’s footsteps. I don’t want him to forget her in his worry. As if on cue, he says, “Maddie, hurry up. No, don’t run. Just walk faster.”
The temperature drops as we enter the clinic. I am lowered to something soft and firm. I open one eye and close it at the sudden brightness. Voices surround me. Bits and pieces of conversation float in and out of my subconscious. I cup my stomach. Benny junior has been quiet. No contractions yet.
Since my eyes decide they want to stay closed, I have to rely on my other senses. My sense of hearing. We stop moving. There’s a familiar voice murmuring instructions to others. Ben is still here. His hand covers mine.
I manage to open my eyes for the briefest seconds and all I see is the worry embedded on his face.
“I’m here. Everything will be okay, babe.”
So, why does he sound so scared?