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“And waste a perfectly good breakfast? I don’t think so,” snapped my mother, whipping her head around.
“Really, it’s fine,” I said, waving my hand at him.
I knew he was trying. I knew this hurt him. It hurt me, too, but I would never let it show. Not in front of my mother.
“I’ll call an Uber.” I pulled out my phone.
“Nancy, I’m taking Addison to the airport,” said my father, standing from the table.
It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. I was taken aback by him standing up to her, for once. I fought back tears as I gave him a thankful nod. He gave me a smile before grabbing the keys off the hook by the garage door.
“I’ll be back soon.” He opened the door and slipped out, leaving my mother and me in the kitchen.
“It was good to see you, Mom,” I said softly.
I could see her stand a little straighter as she continued to stir the eggs in the pan. I started walking toward the door, rolling my suitcase behind me.
“Goodbye, Addison,” I heard her whisper.
I closed my eyes for just a moment, trying to soak in her words because they might be the last ones she would speak to me, and headed out the door to the car.
My father and I rode in silence to the airport. It was comfortable, though. I knew there wasn’t really anything left to say. He would have to side with my mother and veering away from that would practically be treason. Instead, we listened to classic rock on the radio like we did when I was little. I wanted to wrap my hands around that moment and keep it forever.
When we pulled up to the curb at the airport, my dad came around and helped me get out of the car before grabbing my suitcase from the trunk. We looked at each other for a long moment, as if trying to get our words across in the quiet air between us. Finally, he pulled me in for a hug. A real hug that was filled with tenderness and goodbye. It nearly broke my heart.
I pulled away and gave him the best smile I could before walking into the terminal. I didn’t think I could handle any more goodbyes in my life.
On the flight home, I started writing down a list of my current finances and then added everything I could think of that the baby would need. I realized I would have to come up with an entirely new budget. One that included medical insurance and diapers and probably daycare for when I hopefully found a new job. And that job would have to pay a lot more than the one I was about to lose.
I suddenly started feeling very warm as the plane started to descend and we approached New York. My breath felt like it was short and it was hard to fully fill my lungs. I wondered if I was having a panic attack. I gripped the armrests tightly and closed my eyes as I tried to slow my breath. I countedone, two, three, four, fivein my head. It seemed to be working.
But then I felt my stomach tighten in a way I had never felt before. After a few seconds, it released, giving me some relief before tightening again a minute later. I put my hand on my bump and felt it harden and soften. It was an unusual sensation, and it started to worry me when they grew more painful. I took a deep breath and willed for the plane’s wheels to meet the runway quickly.
Finally, the plane bumped up and down slightly as it steadied itself, moving quickly down the runway until it began to slow down. I breathed a slight sigh of relief. At least we were on the ground now, but I wasn’t out of the woods yet. It seemed to take forever for the plane to park and open its doors. I may have had priority boarding getting on the flight, but I was just like everyone else in the herd trying to get off the plane.
I winced as I waited in the slow-moving line, gripping the handle of my luggage tightly to try and help with the pain. As soon as I was off, I quickly found an exit and hailed a cab.
“I need to get to a hospital,” I said.
The driver’s eyes grew wide as he eyed me clutching my stomach. He gave me a nod and pulled the car away from the curb, stepping on the gas.
Twenty minutes later, we arrived at the hospital. The driver was so worried about me that he helped me out of the car and pulled my luggage into the hospital. He made sure I was helped before he left. As a nurse helped me into a wheelchair, I thanked him profusely, wishing I could tip him more. He pressed his hands together and gave a little bow before leaving out the sliding doors.
The nurse wheeled me up to triage to see if there was a room available. On the way up, I texted Monica to let her know what was going on. Within minutes, she told me she was on her way. Thankfully, there was a room available. The nurse helped me out of my clothes and into a hospital gown. Everything felt so surreal. So scary. It was too early to be here. I felt panicked. The nurse must have sensed it.
“Everything is going to be okay,” she soothed.
I gave her a grateful look as she helped me into the bed.
“I need to wrap this around your belly so we can monitor your contractions.”
“Contractions?” I asked, my voice shaky.
“Yes, you’re more than likely having Braxton Hicks contractions. They’re normal, but we need to be sure.”
She helped me sit up and wrapped a belt around my stomach before covering me with cool white sheets.
“I’ll have paperwork sent up soon, but in the meantime rest.”