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She nodded. I sighed, then glanced at Samuel, who had simply listened. I knew he was in favor of a C-section because he worried for the baby’s and my safety, but he wanted me to decide.
“It’s your decision.”
“If this is about you being scared of witnessing the C-section, there’s still the option of anesthesia.”
I hated feeling helpless, so that wasn’t an option. Despite my anxiety, I agreed to have a C-section two weeks before my due date.
I woke up, not sure why. Something felt off. I blinked into the dark, listening to Samuel’s reassuring breathing beside mine, glad for his presence. Glad that the days I’d find him in his office drunk in the middle of the night were over.
I pushed myself to the edge of the bed, then froze because the sheets were wet. I swallowed. Has my water broken? “Samuel,” I whispered.
He stirred immediately, and the bed shifted. “Hmm?”
“I think my water broke.”
The lights came on at once. It took me a few heartbeats before I saw Samuel. Then I glanced down. The sheets were definitely wet.
I touched my belly. It was very hard. I didn’t feel what I’d consider labor pains, more a sort of strong cramping and pressure.
“Are you in labor?”
I listened into my body, searching for signs. I felt full. As if I needed to go to the toilet for a shit. “I feel pressure. It’s bearing down.”
“Okay.” Samuel frowned. “Let’s go to the hospital.”
I hesitated. It was still seventeen days until my due date. I didn’t want to appear like a hysterical first-time mother who went to the hospital because she ate something wrong.
Samuel reached for his phone. “Then I’ll call my mother. She’ll know what to do.”
“It’s the middle of the night!”
Samuel ignored my comment and put the phone to his ear. “Sorry for waking you, but Emma’s feeling off. Her water broke, and she feels pressure, but she isn’t in labor yet.”
I bit my lip, suddenly unsure. I touched my belly again. It felt as if it was smaller and hung lower. Was I imagining things?
The cramps definitely got worse.
Samuel nodded. “My mother’s on her way. She thinks we should go to the hospital.”
I pulled my wheelchair closer. “Let me go to the toilet.” I rolled into our bathroom, but following my intuition, I reached between my legs and froze. Something was off. I pushed two fingers into me and swallowed. I felt hair. I jerked my hand back. “Samuel!” I shouted.
He staggered inside, a shirt half pulled down his chest. “What?”
“I feel the head.”
Samuel stared at me blankly, searching the top of my head, then his eyes widened, and his gaze dropped to my crotch. My nightgown was covering everything.
“Samuel? Emma?” Ines called from downstairs.
“Mom! The baby is almost out!” Samuel shouted.
Ines rushed in a few seconds later, her eyes wide.
“I could feel hair when I felt for it,” I said, feeling completely overwhelmed.
Ines nodded, then motioned to Samuel. “Call an ambulance immediately. Your father is downstairs.”
Ines touched my shoulder. “Come on, Emma, let’s get you comfortable.”