“It wasn’t me. I swear,” I said, frantically pushing all of the buttons repeatedly.

“My eyes were closed. I didn’t see. I assumed you pushed the stop button as a joke. Oh my God! Please…no. This can’t be happening!”

She had every reason to suspect that I’d made the elevator stop on purpose. In the past, I’d intentionally done that twice, first during our fear excursion way back when and then again when I proposed to her. But joking about something like that under these circumstances would have been pretty sick and not funny at all.

“I wouldn’t do that to you, baby. Unfortunately, this looks to be the first time we’ve actually ever gotten legitimately stuck in one.”

Inhaling and exhaling loudly, she said, “That’s a pretty horrible irony right about now.”

Pressing the emergency call button with one hand, I looked up the number for the front desk with the other, having to dial it several times because my nervous fingers kept screwing up the numbers.

The phone kept ringing and went to a general voice mailbox. No response from my pressing the button ad nauseum, either.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Slamming my hand against the wall, I yelled, “How the fuck could there be no response?”

Nina held onto her back with both hands as if they were keeping her from falling to the ground in pain. “Oh my God. This is so bad, so very bad.”

“Don’t panic, baby. What are you feeling right now?”

“The pains…they’re getting closer together.”

Banging on the door frantically, I yelled at the top of my lungs, “Can anyone hear us? We’re stuck. Help!”

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

After several minutes, it seemed useless.

“I’m calling 9-1-1,” I said.

Clutching her stomach and practicing her breathing, she slowly slid down onto the floor.

The emergency line picked up. “What’s the address caller?”

“Old Ridgewood Estates off Washington Highway.”

“Please confirm your telephone number.”

“617-596-9968.”

“And what is the nature of your emergency?”

“We need help. My wife is in labor, and we’re stuck in the hotel elevator. She’s feeling a lot of pressure.”

“Does building maintenance know?”

“No one is responding to our calls.”

“Okay, we’re sending a crew over right away, but if you think she’s having the baby, I’m gonna transfer you to someone who can help guide you through in case the paramedics don’t get there in time. Stay on the line.”

What was actually happening here was starting to sink in. “Jesus Christ.”

Kneeling down next to Nina, I let out a deep breath before rubbing her back as I waited on hold. “It’ll be okay, baby. We’re gonna get out of here.”

Then, came static followed by a woman’s voice. “Hello, sir. Can you tell me how old your wife is?”

“Thirty-one.”

“How many weeks pregnant?”

“Uh…thirty-seven.”

“What is she feeling right now?”

“Baby, describe what you’re feeling.”

“Just…a lot of pressure, especially around my ass. It feels like something’s going to come out of there. I’m scared.”

“It feels like the baby’s gonna come out of her ass.”

“Sir, you don’t have to worry. That’s never actually happened before.” She laughed. “She’s just having back labor. How far apart are her contractions?”

“How far apart, Nina?”

She blew out a long breath and shook her head, looking too pained to even answer. “I don’t know exactly. Less than a minute, maybe.”

The air felt stuffy. Nina was sweating and lifted the shirt off of her head.

“Sounds like she’s definitely in labor now,” the woman said. “Does she have any complications?”

“This was supposed to be a C-section because she had one prior with our son.”

“Do you have any soft materials that you can place on the ground for her?”

“Yeah. We have our suitcase here with us. It’s full of clothes.”

“Place some shirts or whatever you have underneath her to make her comfortable. Make sure you put some aside for the baby. If the baby is delivered, it’s going to be important to keep him warm and dry.”

“Alright.”

Keeping the black suitcase vertical, I unzipped it halfway, taking out all of the shirts we had packed and throwing them on the ground.

“Okay, tell her to just keep breathing. Have her pant in a rhythm of three quick breaths in and one long blow out. This could help delay the birth. I also want you to have her lie on her left side. Her face should be near the floor, and her bottom in the air. Can you do that?”

Her face near the floor. Her bottom in the air. There was a good chance that position got us into this predicament.

“Sir?”

“Yeah…”

“Everything is going to be okay. Your wife’s name is Nina? What is your name?”

“I’m Jake. Jake Green.”

“Mr. Green, I’m Bonnie. We’re gonna get through this together. You’re doing a great job.”

I looked down at Nina struggling against the brown paneling of the wall. Panic was building inside of me fast, and for the first time in my life, I probably understood what Nina used to feel like before hyperventilating. A long, shaky breath escaped me. “Thank you for helping us.”