Page 90 of One Shameless Weekend

Elle squeezes her eyes shut. “That’s really easy for you to say! You’re not about to push something the size of a pineapple through a tiny hole in your body!”

My heart palpitates again. “You think the baby’s coming?”

“Iknowthe baby’s coming!” She releases my bicep long enough to flip her hand at the room. “Right here in my freaking bathroom!”

Holy shit.

Holy SHIT.

No. No, I can handle this. I’ve seen a lot of movies, and I’ve totally seen movies with women in labor, and I can totally handle this. I mean, I got the front door open, didn’t I?

What do they always ask for in movies when this happens?

Towels and hot water.

We’re in a bathroom, socheckandcheck.

Okay.

Breathe, Colin.

“It’s gonna be okay, Elle,” I say calmly as she squeezes my biceps again and breathes long and deep. “Just keep breathing like that.”

She keeps breathing and gripping my arms for about a minute before she lets go and drops her arms at her sides. “UghGod…they keep getting worse.”

I’m not totally ignorant, I know these are probably contractions, and I know her body is only going to give her a quick breather before the next ones start. Sitting up straight, I grab every towel in sight, pile them on the floor next to her, and then reach for a washcloth to dampen it. I drape it across her forehead and then roll up my sleeves, because it’s fuckinggo time.

I’m about to deliver our baby girl.

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EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SITUATION feelscrazed.

Not justcrazy.Crazydoesn’t do it justice.Crazedis more likemadness,loss of sense, and a disconnect from reality. And that’s what the sudden onset of labor without any medical assistance is like.

How did women do this formillenniabefore modern medicine was a thing?

I have no idea, but I’m about to find out because I can feel the nagging precursor to another contraction, and Colin is grabbing towels and rolling up his sleeves.

Thank God he’s here.

In any other situation, the thought would startle me, but being stripped down to pure, basic, feral survival mode, I dismiss it as no more out of place than the oxygen in the room.

The involuntary clench of my muscles causes that deep, dull ache to flood my lower half again, and the panting starts back up. It all feels like I’m not even in control of any of it; like I’m merely a bystander in my own body as it goes through the motions of pure chaos.

“Deep breaths, Elle.” Colin’s voice is low and soothing. His face is relaxed and serene as he sits cross-legged in front of my bent knees, his palms flat and warm on the sides of my thighs as he strokes up and down. “Take a long, deep breath with me.”

Automatically, I do what he says, following his lead.

How does he know what to do in this situation?

I don’t have the mental presence to wonder about that either.

Pressure builds below, and I squeeze my eyes shut as my body seems to act on its own accord. On some level, I know there is pain, but by this point it’s so overshadowed by sheerexhaustionthat pain barely registers.

“I can’t do this!” The words fly out of my mouth on a breath of purepanicat the idea that there’s no escape, and this will last forever. “I can’t do this anymore!”

It feels like a literaleternity.