"Are you sure?" Easton's voice sounded more frantic now.

"Pretty sure." I might pee my pants a little every time I sneezed these days, but this was different.

"Do you need me to call an ambulance?" Easton asked.

"Um, I think you can just get me a couple of towels or something. I don't think he's coming out this exact minute."

But we definitely needed to get to the hospital because I had no idea how fast the baby would come, and there was no way I wanted to have him without an epidural.

"Are you okay?" Lexi said from the other side of the door. "Do you need me to come in there and help you with anything?"

The amniotic fluid seemed to have stopped trickling out. "If you could just call the hospital and tell them I'm coming, that would be great. Oh, and call my mom, too."

What was I supposed to do? The baby wasn't supposed to be here for two more weeks. The doctor had said that the baby's lungs would be developed enough to work well on their own at this point, but what if they weren't? Was the baby going to be okay?

Easton came back with towels a second later, and when I opened the door, he looked white as a ghost. "Are you okay? Is the baby okay? I really can call the ambulance, if you need me to."

"I'm okay. I just want to get to the hospital and make sure the baby’s fine. I didn't think he'd come early."

Easton’s eyes were wide. "Me neither."

I took one of the towels from his shaking hand and did something I would never dream of doing in front of the guy I liked in my prior life. I bunched up that towel and put it between my legs lengthwise, like a diaper that didn't have any Velcro tabs.

I knew I should have bought old-people diapers to carry around everywhere I went.

"Do you want me to drive you guys?" Noah was standing at the bottom of the stairs.

I glanced at Easton. He didn’t look like he should drive right now.

"Yeah, that would be great."

Noah went up the stairs first to turn on his car.

"I'll go to your house and pack a bag for you, so your mom can just meet you at the hospital," Lexi offered.

"Thank you."

Easton helped me up the stairs and led me outside, helping me into the passenger seat of Noah's white sedan. Then he climbed in the seat behind me.

It was only eight o'clock in the evening, so there was too much traffic for Noah to speed or run any stoplights, which made me thankful that Noah was the one driving and not Easton. I was pretty sure Easton would have attempted it and that could have ended badly.

As we drove, all I could think about was how I just wasn't ready for this. I didn't have a car seat. I didn't have baby clothes. And I didn't have adoptive parents, either.

Why had I let myself put everything off until the last minute? I was so irresponsible.

Noah pulled into the drop-off spot by the hospital entrance and Easton opened my door. He linked his arm through mine to escort me to the labor and delivery wing.

The nurses had a room ready for me when we got there and they had me change into a hospital gown right away. I was grateful that the judgmental nurse from last time wasn't on duty. I probably would have requested someone else if she was.

When I came out of the bathroom after changing, my mom was in the room with Easton and they were both talking to my nurse.

When Mom saw me, she rushed over and gave me a hug. "Are you okay? Have the contractions started?"

"I've had a few, but nothing too painful yet."

She nodded, but there was a huge amount of anxiety in her eyes. I realized that while I’d been so worried about what I was supposed to do with my baby, my mom had been worried about me. Because I was her baby.

The nurse said, "If you'll sit on the bed, we can get these monitors attached and see how the contractions are coming and how they're affecting the baby's heartbeat."

I climbed onto the bed with the help of the nurse and my mom, pulled the thin blanket over my legs, and lifted my hospital gown so the nurse could place thick stretchy bands around my stomach.

Easton was sitting on the small couch in the corner, his leg bouncing up and down as he anxiously waited to see what the monitors would tell us.

The nurse finished adjusting the monitors, and soon lines appeared on the screen beside me. She smiled. "The baby's heartbeat is good. We'll watch the monitor for a contraction to see how he does during one."

A moment later, the line on the screen went up as my stomach tightened. It didn't hurt me too badly, but it felt more painful than the practice contractions I'd been having the past few weeks.

The nurse waited for the line to go down on the screen, completing the rolling hill before patting my leg. "Everything looks good. I'll check to see how far dilated you are, and then we'll just wait and see how things progress."

"Thanks," I said, grateful that she seemed to think things were going well. If she thought everything was okay, then I could relax.

I noticed Easton had seemed to relax at the nurse's reassurance, too. I gave him a soft smile.

All that was left to do now was wait.

And get that epidural when the nurse said I could have it.

I was not going to do this thing without one.