His third visit was two weeks ago. He looked at my belly and shook his head. “You’re huge.”
“Thanks. That’s exactly what every pregnant woman wants to hear.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant, they’re coming soon.”
“Any day now, according to the doctor.”
“Are you scared?”
“Terrified.”
He squeezed my hand. “You’re going to be a great mother.”
I wanted to believe him.
The contractions start in the middle of the night.
I wake up to a sharp pain low in my belly, so intense that I gasp out loud. It fades after a few seconds, and I lie there trying to catch my breath. False labor, maybe. The doctor warned me about that.
Then another contraction hits, stronger than the first.
I sit up, hands on my stomach, and feel the muscles tighten like a fist clenching. When it passes, I’m sweating despite the cool night air.
“Helena!” My voice comes out louder than I intended.
She appears in my doorway within seconds, already dressed like she’s been waiting for this. “It’s time?”
“I think so.”
“How far apart are the contractions?”
“I don’t know. Maybe five minutes?”
Helena pulls out her phone and makes a call. She speaks quickly in a low voice, then hangs up and turns back to me. “The doctorsare on their way. They’ve been staying in the village for the last week, just in case. They’ll be here in ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes?”
“Can you walk?”
I nod, even though I’m not sure. Helena helps me out of bed and into the main room, where she’s already set up a makeshift delivery area. Clean sheets on the couch. Towels stacked nearby. A basin of water. Medical supplies I don’t recognize.
Another contraction hits, and I double over, gripping Helena’s arm.
“Breathe,” she says calmly. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
I try, but the pain makes it hard to focus on anything except not screaming.
The doctors arrive exactly when Helena said they would. Two men, both in their fifties, carrying medical bags and equipment. One of them introduces himself as Dr. Williams, the other as Dr. Patel. They’re efficient and professional, setting up quickly while Helena helps me onto the bed they’ve brought into my room.
“We’re going to monitor the babies,” Dr. Williams says, attaching sensors to my belly. “Make sure they’re handling the labor well.”
“Are they okay?”
“So far, yes. Strong heartbeats. You’re doing great.”
I don’t feel like I’m doing great. I feel like I’m being torn apart from the inside.
The labor lasts fourteen hours.
