Chapter 17
Hope
Curt and I had everything planned. After we sort of patched things between us, I started going to prenatal appointments, so we were prepared for when the baby would come. I planned to deliver at our local hospital with Curt by my side as I brought our sweet baby into the world.
Of course, the baby came a week and a half early, so I wasn’t prepared like I’d planned.
I was taking a short nap in our room while Curt was out working. He usually kept close to the house, so he was either in the office or the barn with the horses because he was a worry wart. He didn’t ever want to be too far away from me in case I needed him.
I kept insisting that he just go about his usual business and work like he always did, but then I woke up from my nap, in bed alone surrounded by wet sheets, my first thought was to call out for him.
“Shit!” I gasped because suddenly, there was a pain, and I forgot to breathe for a moment, but it was gone pretty quickly.
I had learned enough about my body and pregnancy to know I was going into labor. I wondered if the pain, and not the wet bed, was what got me up, and I was worried how long I’d been asleep for.
“Curt!” I called out, even knowing he might not be close enough to hear. “Curt! I need you!”
I didn’t wait for him to come running. Instead, I maneuvered my large body off the bed. There was no way I was going anywhere in wet clothes, so the first thing I did was get dressed. I was in a long sleep shirt, so I just pulled it off and switched it for a more modest dress. I picked my phone up from the nightstand, then waddled out of the bedroom and down the stairs. I moved quickly and was at the back door in minutes.
“Curt!” I yelled, and my voice carried.
Sure enough, he came running out of the barn moments later. He was dressed in his usual work clothes, jeans, boots and a t-shirt.
“Right here,” he called out, then came to a stop at the bottom of the porch steps. “What do you need?”
“I’m having the baby,” I said quickly. “We need to go to the hospital, Curt, now.”
He stood in shock for a moment, staring at me with wide eyes. I was about to chide him for doing nothing when he was suddenly moving. I yelped when I was suddenly off my feet.
“Curt!” I gasped out, arms winding around his neck.
“It’s okay,” he muttered but sounded like he was saying it to himself instead of me. “Everything will be fine. It’s early, but the doctor warned it could happen. We have everything ready.”
He kept mumbling to himself as he carried me through the kitchen and to the living room, setting me down on the couch. Then he was running off, heading for the stairs.
“I’ll get my phone and the car keys!” he shouted back to me as he went. I heard him stumble and curse before his feet were pounding up the stairs.
I giggled, part in amusement because I’d never seen him so flustered, but also part hysterical because this was happening. As if to remind me, I felt another pain that I now recognized as a contraction run through my stomach. I tried to remember what I’d been told about dealing with contractions. I was tempted to fold over my stomach, but I kept my back straight as I breathed through the pain.
Curt was quick; he got back at the tail end of it with a bag thrown over his shoulder. It was the bag we’d packed with everything I would need once I was at the hospital. I gave him a pained smile that quickly faded. It didn’t seem to reassure him, though.
“Are you having contractions?” he asked.
His face was so serious that I wanted to giggle again, but I needed at least one of us to keep our heads. I nodded, and he was suddenly carrying me again.
“Curt, I can walk,” I said in complaint, though he just arched an eyebrow at me and went forward. “Then at least let me open the door,” I muttered petulantly.
He paused at the door, looking a little relieved that he didn’t have to juggle both me and the bag to get to the door. Closing it behind us was a bit of a struggle, but then he was leading us down the front porch steps and to the car, that he’d taken to parking right in front of the house instead of to the side just for this situation.
Curt let me down at my door and went to throw the bag in the back. I got inside by myself, with him hovering beside me and closing the door once I was seated, only to rush to his seat and start the car. He pulled out his phone and handed it to me before he began driving.
“Can you text the foreman and let him know we’ll be out? He’s going to have to supervise all the new workers by himself, and tell him that he’s in charge for the next few days.”
I found the number and typed the message quickly. “Do you think he can handle it?”
“He should be fine. He’ll let everybody else know.” Then he threw a smirk at me. “So that you know; everyone will have a welcoming surprise for you and the baby when we go back.”
I could have laughed, but there was another contraction, and I suddenly grabbed onto Curt’s arm.
“Hope?” he said, voice breaking on my name in worry.
“It's fine,” I gasped through the pain. “It’s natural. Just—” but I cut myself off with a groan.
Curt seemed to know what I needed, taking a hand off the steering wheel to hold my hand through it.
I had two more contractions in the car ride, growing more scared with each one, but he was there to calm me down. He’d let me have a harsh grip on his hand, tugging away when he needed it back, and I would hold onto his forearm instead until he could free up his hand again.
Everything was a rush once we made it to the hospital. Curt got out of the car, and I didn’t protest when he helped me out of my seat, then lifted me up into his arms. He took me inside, where a couple of nurses with a wheel chair tore me away from him. I would have complained, but I was in the middle of another stronger, longer contraction when they took me away.
I was taken to a room where a nurse helped me change into a hospital gown, then I was laid on a bed and a sheet thrown over me.
“Hope!”
I gasped, coming back to myself for a moment when I heard him call my name, and I looked wildly around for him. He’d pulled on scrubs over his clothes, and he had a mask on so he blended in with the other several people in the room, but I would recognize his eyes anywhere when they were staring right at me. I reached for his hand at the same time that he reached for mine.
“Curt! Thank God you’re here,” I gasped, gripping his hand harshly.
“Of course I’m here,” he murmured, pulling the mask down to give me a peck on my lips, then pressed his forehead against mine. “Just like we planned, remember?”
I swallowed, then nodded. I still remembered the plan.
Not long after, the doctor came in. After what felt like hours of labor and pushing, and Curt there with me all the way, holding onto my hand and whispering encouraging words to me, everything was all over when I heard a loud, sharp cry. I felt exhausted, but I forced my eyes open and searched for my baby. Curt made a sound next to me; then he was peppering kisses all over my forehead and cheeks, not seeming to mind all the sweat.
“Excuse me?” a voice said. We looked up to see one of the nurses, and she smiled at us.
I held my breath, having some idea what she wanted from us. We’d decided not to learn the sex of the baby because we both wanted the surprise, but I was anxious to know, though I would love my child either way.
“I just came to tell you that you gave birth to a healthy baby boy, and say congratulations to the both of you. They’re wiping him down to bring him over to you now.”
I smiled shakily at the nurse, and she didn’t wait for more of a response than that. Curt was suddenly hugging me and laughing, and I felt the tears pour out of my eyes.
“A baby boy,” I whispered.
“Our baby boy,” he whispered back, pulling away to finally kiss me on the lips, then smiled down at me, eyes crinkling at the corners.
“We should name him Ben,” I said suddenly, the thought just popping in my mind. “It would be the perfect name, don’t you think?”
Curst smiled down at me. “After my grandfather,” he murmured, approving. “The bastard that got us together in the most high handed way possible even from beyond the grave.”
We shared a quiet laugh, just between the two of us. Even I had to agree it was true. It’d thought it was a punishment in the beginning, but at that moment, all I could think was how much of a blessing having Curt, and now our baby, was.
“Mr. and Mrs. Winston?”
We both looked up at the new voice, and my eyes immediately zeroed in on the bundle she held in her arms, wrapped in a fluffy towel. I knew my eyes were widened in wonder, and if I thought I could move, I would have sat up to reach for my baby. But I could feel excitement wiping away some of the exhaustion as the nurse came closer with the baby.
“I have your baby for you here,” she said, holding the bundle out.
“His name’s Ben,” I murmured, not conscious of saying the words, and the nurse smiled.
Curt and I reached for him at the same time, both our hands supporting him as we pulled him close, with my husband wrapping one arm around me and keeping the other on our baby. He rested his head against mine, and we both looked down at our sleeping baby.
He gave a squeeze to my shoulders that our family was finally complete.