These definitely are contractions, which means it’s time, and, of course, Carter isn’t here.
I set the stopwatch on my phone and begin to dim the lighting, light a few candles, and set the mood for a calm beginning of labor that I most definitely was not planning for today.
But panicking won’t get me anywhere. Carter will be home soon, and I have no plans to alert him and freak him out. Besides, it’s early in the labor, with plenty of time between contractions. We’re fine.
I continue arranging the living room for nature’s adventure and ready for Carter’s return to help me. Then when we feel it’s time to go to the hospital, we’ll go.
Except half an hour passes and no sign of Carter, but the time between contractions has gone down to four minutes. It causes me to travel from level calm tohmm, this doesn’t feel great.
I breathe through another contraction, and it’s a little more painful than before. It passes, and I can no longer be in denial. Pressing Carter’s number on my phone, he picks up after two rings.
“Yeah, so, you need to get homenow.”
“What?”
“Carter, I’m in labor. Baby didn’t like our plan of getting married before they enter the world. I thought we had another week. But then I looked at the moon positions and I wanted to scold myself because it makes total sense, and I should have been more prepared,” I ramble and walk to the window to revel in the beauty of snow and the quiet of everyone cozy in their houses.
“Rosie, slow down.”
“I’m in labor, and I need you here ASAP.”
“Rosie!” he squeaks out.
“You sound more terrified than me. Chill it down a notch. Besides, why aren’t you home?”
He curses to himself, and I envision him pinching the bridge of his nose. “I was about to call you. I’m stuck. There is too much snow on Main Street, and the plows won’t get out for another two hours.”
Fuck tranquility.
“Carter! No. No. No. I need youhere.”
“Listen to me, call my brother and Hailey or Esme, hell, even my mom. Maybe they can all walk to our place.”
I gasp in horror. “First off, no fucking way is your brother going to look down there if this baby wants to come out now. Besides, he and Hailey are away for some hockey celebrity thing, and Esme and Keats are there with them. Gracie is at her parents’ for the night. And secondly, are you fucking out of your mind? What would possess you to suggest I call your mom? Besides, she hurt her ankle the other day in racquetball and can’t even hobble to her martini table in the living room, let alone through unshoveled snow on the sidewalks. The residents of Everhope Road are failing us right now. Will you just get homenow?” I admit, I’m getting a little feisty.
I’m not sure if it’s my outburst or if it’s simply that time is ticking but another contraction waves through my body, and I breathe heavily with Carter on the other end. “Please,” I beg as I attempt to inhale a long breath and close my eyes, remembering that I have inner Zen to channel.
“You’re doing great,” Carter encourages as he patiently waits for the contraction to pass. When it does, he is in action mode again. “Rosie, you need to hang up and call the doctor. I have to figure out a way to get to you, but I won’t be there soon. I’ll call some other neighbors and see if they can do something.” I hear the alarm and concern in his voice.
That little bit of panic inside me now rockets high.
“Are you saying that I might be having a baby alone?” I wail. The sound of scratching on glass snatches my eyes away from the window to the kitchen back door to see Jet covered in snow that is up to his stomach. He must have escaped, as Carter’s parents are watching him because his mom’s secret love for the dog triumphed on the babysitting front. “Great. A canine answered my distress call.” I’m being sarcastic, and I walk to the door to let Jet in.
I’m on the receiving end of hearing Carter’s puff of air. “Please hang up and call the doctor.”
Letting Jet in, he instantly shakes snow away and begins to follow me around as I sway side to side. “Okay. Just get here soon.”
Ending the call, I search my contacts and call the doctor’s office. After a two-minute check-in of my timing and pain level, they informed me that I need to call 911 if I feel the labor is progressing faster. Not the most comforting of signs, but I take a few more cleansing breaths and lower myself to the floor on all fours then lean forward to rest against my yoga pillow. I need to gather my thoughts and find my inner strength. Jet is instantly next to me, and he must sense my current state, as his nose prods my arm to pet him.
Swallowing and trying to draw in my composure, I admit that I’m struggling. Gritting my teeth through another contraction, I can no longer ignore the facts.
There will be no re-marriage signature tomorrow.
This baby is coming.
And I’m all alone.
21
