This child is determined to destroy my patience before even entering this world. I went to the hospital two nights ago because I thought I was in labor. Every one likes to remind me that I’ve already been through this once, but what they fail to understand is that was eight years ago. I don’t remember pregnancy being this difficult with Brielle.
Once again, I grip onto the cart with a fierce hold as another contraction starts. I’m standing in the middle of the cereal aisle, internally cursing Luke for being so damn charming and making me fall in love with him and the idea of adding on to our family.
He’s just so good at the act of getting me pregnant.
Like so, so good.
And he’s the best husband. Luke is a great man, was an even better boyfriend, but the moment he became my husband he opened a whole new world of love for Brielle and I. He’s been amazing through this entire pregnancy.
But that beautiful man has planted a demon spawn in my uterus.
This kid has done nothing but cause me trouble from the very beginning. Horrible morning sickness that lasted longer than the first trimester, failed every prenatal test to the point of having to be hospitalized for no reason (I went back to school, but it wasn’t to become an MD), and refusing to get the hell out of me by my due date.
I am two weeks past due. And despite the hell I’ve gone through, we’re both healthy. So the doctor says to keep ‘em cooking a little while longer.
The contraction passes, and I wait. I don’t move out of this aisle for ten minutes. When no more return, I continue my shopping.
False labor again.
But then two aisles over, as I’m grabbing boxes of pasta off the shelf, water splashes upon my feet.
“Oh my god. You little asshole, now you want to come out?!”
I swear I love this little asshole despite my words. Don’t act like you haven’t called your kids something equal to that at some point.
Leaving my cart, I waddle all the way out of the store.
As I make my way to the car, I reach for my cell inside my purse.
Brielle is with Janice today. Janice has been a great pseudo-grandma slash pseudo-mom to us ever since we moved back. My dad passed away last year and Brielle took it pretty hard. Janice swooped in and became a part of the family. One of the many things I loved about her was she helped to keep the memory of my dad alive.
The line rings over and over in my ear. When Luke’s voicemail picks up I grumble a short message for him.
“Lucas Bennett, your wife is forty-two weeks pregnant. You aren’t allowed to not answer your phone!”
A contraction hits right as I make to my driver’s side door. I groan, grinding my teeth as I lean heavily against the metal. The hospital is two miles from the grocery store. I can make it.
I get in my car and drive the short distance to hospital.
Still no call from Luke.
By the time I’m walking inside the womens wing another contraction is coming on.
The nurses are rolling me to a room when my cell rings.
“Liv, I’m so sorry I didn’t answer. I left my phone inside. I was working on—”
“I’m having your freaking baby, Luke. I don’t care what you were working on.”
“What?” he breaths out with instant shock.
Don’t ask me how he can be shocked right now. He’s been sleeping beside a whale every night. It’s not like he could forget this baby was going to be here any day now.
“Get to the hospital. Now. And bring the bag.”
I hang up on him.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m gowned and screaming when Luke walks into the room.
“Hey, gorgeous.” He bends down and kisses my sweaty forehead.
“Did you call Janice?” I pant.
“She’s on her way with Brielle. I texted Gio and Paul, too.”
“Okay.” I nod rapidly. “Good. Okay.”
This child took his sweet time baking inside me, and is now determined to enter this world faster than Amazon’s two hour delivery service.
Brielle couldn’t wait to be a big sister, and Ethan was ready to have another boy around all the girls he’s been showered with. Last year Della gave birth to twin girls. I blame her for triggering our baby fever.
But the timing worked out for us. I graduated with my new Masters degree two months ago, and quit my job two weeks later. The plan is to stay home with the baby for a short time. Brielle’s out of school for the summer and I know she’ll be a big help, not to mention Janice and Della and Della’s mom. I have a team this time around.
Most of all I have a partner. Luke stands by my decision to stay at home. When I first had Brielle I made many, many sacrifices, and I only want all of this baby’s firsts that I never got to have with my sweet girl. Staying home won’t be a permanent decision for me. I love the pace of working with others in a company setting. I’ll need that adult interaction, but for now I’m happy to choose my children first.
Della and Matt come barging through the large door of my hospital room. Della’s checking on Luke who is sweating bullets like he’s the one in labor, and Matt is staring at the monitor informing me of every contraction that is about to hit.
Lord help the woman carrying Gio and Matt’s baby. They plan on being in the room for the entire birthing process with her. I told Matt he could come in the beginning only. I want it to be just Luke and I when our little guy makes his first appearance.
“How are you doing, baby?” Luke asks in a soothing tone.
“Your son is ruining your chances of ever getting me pregnant again.”
Luke laughs, nervously, because he hears the stark truth in my statement.
I stare up at him and magically find a peaceful moment before my body tries to rip itself apart again.
Worry and excitement is etched all across his handsome face. He holds my hand, paying no mind to the multiple fractures he’ll endure. Luke’s the father to both my children. How did I ever get so lucky?
Brady is…around. He’s in Brielle’s life, mostly when it’s convenient for him, but he doesn’t give Luke and I hard times anymore. Except when Luke legally adopted Brielle before we married. I never put Brady on her birth certificate when he skipped out on us. That pissed him off, but when we asked if he was going to fight us and take it to court he backed off. We don’t keep Brielle from him, and that’s all he wants in the end.
Luke combs away the matted hair on my forehead as a tear slips free and mixes in with the sweat.
“I love you,” he says, lifting my hand to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss, never taking his eyes off mine.
“I’m having one of those surreal moments. Like I’ve known our baby boy was coming, obviously,” I gesture down to my round stomach, “but it’s hitting me really hard right now. Because it’s you and me. I used to spend my nights dreaming of you and wishing things were different so you could be mine. Now you are.”
“Always will be, Liv. I hope you keep dreaming about me. That way when you wake up every morning and see me lying there beside you, we’ll be reminded that dreams come true.”
Happy tears run out soon after as they turn in to ones of excruciating pain. Della and Matt hovered until I hit nine centimeters dilated. Luke and I wanted to share our son’s birth alone.
Owen James Bennett was soon placed in my arms, a head full of dark hair, and a strong pair of lungs to match his zealous entry as a Bennett. Though, the way he comfortably waited it out inside my belly shows a lot more of the Benson in him.
Luke and I smiled and laughed and cried. It was the greatest moment of my life. Until Brielle joined us, climbing in the bed beside me and stroking Owen’s silky hair with a soft finger. Luke bent low behind her, wrapping one arm around me and the other protectively over all of us.
“I love you so much, Liv,” he whispers along my forehead. “You did so good, gorgeous. He’s perfect. Brielle’s perfect. I’m in love with all of you.”
I blubbered through happy tears. Kissing him and our kids. Mesmerized with Owen’s tiny hand wrapped tightly around his daddy’s finger.
“Mom,” Brielle says, staring off in the distance to the shelf with our belongings. “Why is there a box of spaghetti noodles in your room?”
“Oh. Uhhh, I may have accidentally stole those from the grocery store.”
The End.
~~~
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