Mike was on set today and I was stuck home and restless. My due date had been four days ago, and nothing. Not a thing. The doctor had laughed and said that wasn’t unusual for first timers. I’d asked how likely it was that he’d be going to kindergarten from inside my stomach and he’d laughed even harder. I wasn’t entirely kidding though—it felt like that kid had moved in permanently and he wasn’t planning on leaving.

I flopped down on the couch and stared at the ceiling. Uhoh. Will I be able to get back up again? I lifted my head to stare at the mountain of my belly, and for a moment I could have sworn it had taken on a life of its own and was staring back at me. Daring me to do…something.

Maybe I should jump up and down for a while? But I’d always hated jumping jacks in gym. Actually, I’d just hated gym, I was a gentleman of as much leisure as I could manage.

Maybe I’d call Mom and see if she had any words of advice. Except my phone was in the bedroom. I tried to sit up and got about halfway before my belly laughed and put an end to any progress in that direction.

I’m beached on the couch like a dead whale. If Mike came home right now, I’d never live it down.

The television remote wasn’t far away. I turned that on for a bit, but daytime talk shows—unless my fiancé was on them—weren’t my thing either and it wasn’t long before I turned it off.

Now I had to pee.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. I wiggled my legs off the couch, then rolled until I was on all fours on the floor in front of it. As fast as I could, I got to my feet and waddled toward the bathroom before I wet myself.

On the way back to the bedroom, I paused in the baby’s room. We’d painted it a kind of oceany-teal, with little fish and mermaids and mermen all over the walls. I’d wanted to put the baby’s name on the wall too, but we were still stuck trying to decide between three. I straightened the sheets again, even though they didn’t really need it, and checked out the contents of the baby bag, in case we had to leave suddenly. It had all the necessities for a short stay at the hospital, and everything we’d need to bring the baby home. The car seat was already installed, too, just in case.

“Time for you to move out, bud,” I told my belly as I wandered around the room.

In answer, he just stretched a little and then went still again. I sighed and went to look for my phone.

A couple of hours of motherly sympathy later, though, I felt a little less put upon by my ungrateful spawn and decided I’d make a lasagna for dinner. Leftovers could be packed into our little freezer so we didn’t need to worry about cooking while I was gone or after I got home.

It was somewhere about the middle of the second layer of noodles that I felt…something. Kind of like the Braxton-Hicks I’d been having, but stronger. I froze and put a hand to my belly, but then everything relaxed and I was left wondering if this was going to be it, or if it was just a tease.

The next one hit as I was spreading the cheese over the top of the layer. It started slow like the first one, squeezing down from the top. No pain—I’d been expecting pain, so that was a little surprising. But it definitely meant business.

I wiped my hands off and did my best to keep it casual as I dialed Mike’s phone.

“Hey, that was good timing! We’re just finishing up.” I heard someone in the background ask if that was me, which gave me a weird flush of happiness. Mike’s coworkers, who were all actors and directors in Hollywood, were interested in how I was doing. I needed to work on being more cool with that.

“Good. I’m making lasagna.” I could tell him when he got home, there was no need to panic him. “Could you pick up some rolls or something on the way home?”

“Sure. White?”

“Yes, please. As fresh as you can.” My cravings had moved from Mexican food, to fresh fruit, to smoked salmon and cottage cheese, and was now sitting in carb central, with fresh white bread and real butter being the thing the baby craved the most. “And maybe pick up a few other supplies? Some water or juice?”

Oops. I shouldn’t have said anything, because he picked right up on the only reason for me asking him to pick up extra bottled water when we’d just bought a bunch. “Is the baby coming?”

“Not for a while,” I assured him. “Maybe tonight. Probably tomorrow. Don’t rush home.” Be careful, I wanted to tell him. I didn’t want to be in labor in one hospital bed with him in traction after a car accident in the next one over. “I’m just putting the lasagna in the oven.”

“You’ll call me if anything happens, then?” he asked and I could hear the excitement in his voice.

“I will, I promise. But it’s only just started, we probably have hours and hours to go.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon. With bread and water. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I hung up the phone and finished the lasagna in record time, then shoved it into the oven and went to check my hospital bag for the umpteenth million time to make sure I had everything I’d need.

Two days later, we were finally admitted to the hospital. They sent us home the first three times, saying I wasn’t in active labor yet, whatever that meant, but then on the last time they agreed that I’d probably be having the baby that night.

“Thank fuck,” I muttered as we trundled along the corridor, Mike carrying my bag and the nurse pushing me along. I was tired already—the contractions had been waking me up on a regular basis and I’d spent most of yesterday just lying on the couch, drifting in and out of sleep.

We got to Labor and Delivery, where I was quickly stripped out of my clothes, checked again because apparently they couldn’t just take my say-so, and popped into a bed to wait for things to get interesting.

The nurse showed Mike where he could put my bag so it was out of the way, then left us alone for a few minutes to get settled while they did paperwork or something. I wasn’t paying too much attention at that point because another contraction had started and I was practicing my breathing and trying not to worry too much about how much this was going to hurt.

“You okay?” Mike asked, reaching for my hand.

“Dunno?” The squeezing ache let go and I took a deep breath. “Ugh.”

He kissed the top of my head. “They’re bringing everything we need. Did you want to call your mom and let her know the show’s on the road?”

I sent him a look that I hoped adequately expressed my horror at his pun. “Sure. I think we’ll be busy later.”

He laughed and pulled out his phone.

“Don’t you dare take a picture of me!” I warned him.

“Promise. The couch isn’t that comfortable.” He got on the phone and moments later he was saying, “Hi, it’s Mike. We’re at the hospital.” He listened for a second, then told her, “About five minutes. Maybe a little less now.” He grinned and turned to me. “She wants to know if you’re still planning to do this naturally.”

“Yes,” I told him. “Just give me the phone, okay?”

He handed it over and while I was saying hi to Mom, he dragged a chair over beside the bed and began to rub my legs. “Your feet are cold,” he mouthed. “I’ll get your slippers.”

I made a face, but let him go get them. They were new and I didn’t want them ruined, but they could come off again when things got messy. And my feet were cold.

The nurses came back in and it was like the baby had just been waiting for them to arrive, because my belly went hard as a rock and I forgot that I was on the phone with Mom as the contraction totally took over my existence.

When I was aware of anything else again, Mike was holding the phone and talking soothingly to my mother and the nurses were watching me with sympathetic eyes. “There’s still time for an epidural if you want one, honey,” one of them whispered to me as she straightened the sheets. “Nothing wrong with getting one, I can have the anesthesiologist up here in a jiffy if you want him.”

“I can do this,” I said stubbornly. “Omegas have been doing this for ages before modern medicine came around.” The thought of a needle going into my spine was the other half of my decision to do this completely unaided chemically, but I wasn’t going to mention that. I didn’t want Mike to think I was a coward, or weak.

I could do this. I could.

Mike put the phone away. “Your mom is freaking,” he said with amusement. “I told her we were fine. That you were fine.” He took my hand and squeezed reassuringly. “You’re the best.”

I smiled and held his hand to my cheek. One of the nurses came in with a bowl and several stark white towels on a table that she rolled in behind my bed. “If your mouth gets dry, Dad there can give you some ice.”

I nodded—I’d been over this in pre-natal classes. Puking on everyone while I was in labor wasn’t on my bucket list, so I was glad to have that possibility off the table.

Another nurse flipped up the hem of my hospital gown and started wrapped a huge black belt over my belly. “Just for tracking contractions and listening to the baby’s heart. Do you want me to turn on the external speaker?”

I nodded, even though I’d heard his heart before. But it reminded me… “We still haven’t picked a name,” I said, suddenly worried. “He’s going to be here soon and we won’t know what to call him.”

“There’s time,” he reminded me.

“No,” I panicked. “We need to pick one.” Just in case.

“Well, we can give him all three,” Mike said, humoring me.

I would have blasted him, but the next contraction was starting and I flailed about, desperately searching for his hand to hold. Mike caught my hand and held it like we were going to arm-wrestle. As the contraction peaked, I couldn’t help a short cry of pain and then, mercifully, it eased off and I could lie back and gather my strength for the next one.

“You okay?” he asked and held our linked hands to his chest.

“I’m fine,” I said.

“That looked like it hurt.” Mike brushed my hair out of my face. “Are you sure you don’t want something for the pain?”

I shook my head, my stomach twisting queasily at the idea of a needle. “It’s okay. They say you forget all about it after.”

He nodded, but didn’t look convinced. I didn’t have time to deal with that, though, because the next contraction had already started. I took a new grip on his hand and began to pant like they’d taught me in pre-natal. Mike didn’t say much, but his presence by my side was way more comforting than I’d expected.

“Phew,” I said at the end of that one. “How much longer?”

“You’re not there yet, but soon,” the nurse said with a reassuring smile. “Won’t be long before you’re pushing.”

“Want some ice?” Mike asked.

My mouth was a little dry after that panting. “Sure.” He fed me one and, like it was a signal, a contraction started.

This one was longer and harder. I thought I might have hurt Mike a little but he never made a noise, just let me squeeze his hand the way my belly was trying to squeeze the baby out. At one point, he put his free arm around my shoulders and held me as I grunted and panted frantically through the pain.

Four or five contractions more and they told me I could push on the next one. I was glad of it, because Mike was starting to look a little white around the mouth and I was beginning to worry more about him than about what was coming down the road for me. “Ready?” I asked him and he nodded, but I noticed his throat work as he swallowed. “Gonna be a Dad soon,” I reminded him.

“Yeah,” he said, and his smile blossomed across his face. “You too, you know.”

“I know.” My belly tightened and the nurses gathered around, telling me to “Push!” and Mike tightened his grip on my hands as I curled around my belly and keened.

“You’re doing great,” Mike repeated over and over. “You’re so strong, I’m so proud of you!”

I wanted to tell him to shut up and what the hell did he know, but I couldn’t find enough air to talk. And the nurses were telling me to breathe and I wanted to tell them to shut up too. I resorted to baring my teeth at all of them instead, but they just kept nattering at me anyway while I wanted to rip their limbs off so I could beat them with them.

“Push,” the nurse said again, and “Breathe!” Mike told me, and I plotted my revenge and screamed as our child tried to rip its way out of my stomach like a tiny alien. My body was on fire and there was no stopping this now, all I could do was just hang on and survive.

And then, suddenly, it was over, and moments later, the wail of a very unhappy baby pierced the air. The nurse carried him up and laid him on my chest. “Little baby boy,” she announced. “Congratulations, dads!”

The baby stopped crying shortly, lying stunned on top of me. “Poor little guy,” I murmured as I stroked the dark hair he’d been born with. “Bet this is a big shock for you.”

Mike stretched out a shaky hand and traced the curve of the baby’s little ear. “He’s so tiny.”

“They don’t stay that way for long,” said one of the nurses. I hadn’t even noticed until now that they’d been cleaning me up, and then one of them was at Mike’s side with a big pair of scissors.

“Want to cut the cord?” she asked him.

“I can?” he said.

In answer, she handed him the scissors and guided his hands to break the last physical bond between me and the baby. Then another nurse was at my side, her hands out to scoop our little boy up. “Not going far, guys. Just going to weigh him and give him a bit of a wash, then he’s coming right back to you. Dad, if you want to join us, you’re welcome to.”

Mike looked up at me hopefully. “Go with him,” I said. “I’ll still be here, and one of us should stay with him.”

He nodded gratefully and bent over the bed to kiss me. “Promise me,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “For the next one, you’ll take the epidural? I don’t know if I can watch you in that kind of pain again.”

“I’ve already forgotten it,” I lied, but he still looked a little shaken.

“I haven’t,” he whispered. He kissed me again, roughly like he was overcome with emotion, then followed the nurse off to the side of the room to watch as our little boy was weighed and measured and checked over to make sure everything was fine.

I lay back in my hospital bed and let time flow around me, watching with tired happiness as the nurse handed my child to his father. Mike beamed and curled himself around the baby as if to protect him, fierce and loving, and I thought I couldn’t be any happier than I was today.