Never Giving Up (Never #3)(42)
“Shut up,” I said, smiling as well. Then I reached forward and adjusted a vent to blow directly on me. I heard him snicker and looked over at him. He was trying so hard to keep in a big laugh and just seeing him happy made the events of the day seem insignificant. One moment of happy with Porter could make a terrible day fade into darkness. How lucky was I?
Having a baby, even though you are constantly surrounded by women who’ve done it and heard about it for your entire life, is something you can never fully be prepared for. The birth of my precious baby will always be the shining moment of my life. Until I have another, the moment I held my baby for the first time will forever be the moment I cherish most. I love Porter more than I ever thought I could love anyone, but my love for my child couldn’t compare to my love for any other person. It was different. More. Completely encompassing. There was absolutely nothing like it. I couldn’t explain it—it was something one had to experience to fully understand. But even after what could be described as a ‘less than simple’ birth, the only thought I had was, I would do that a million times over again for this little baby in my arms. Gladly. I would do anything for my child.
I woke up in the middle of the night, not unusual at all for me anymore. I groaned, a little perturbed to be disrupted as I slept, but then after waking up a little more fully, realized that it had finally happened. I peed the bed.
“Shit,” I whisper-yelled, completely mortified. Over the duration of my pregnancy I gained a new appreciation for my pre-pregnant bladder, but this was ridiculous. “Gross, gross, gross,” I said as I hobbled out of bed, heading for the bathroom. I made it to the bathroom and started stripping my clothes off and heard Porter rustling around.
“You ok, Babe?” His sleepy voice called out. I groaned inwardly, not wanting to admit to what had happened, completely mortified.
“Yeah,” I whined. “Ew. Ew. Ew. Yuck . . .” I cried as I peeled my yoga pants down. “I’m so done with this whole pregnant thing,” I yelled out, frustrated. I looked up to see him standing in the doorway, legs crossed at the ankle, hands gripping the top of the door frame, shirtless. I glared at him. How dare he look like a GQ model while I stood there huge and gross.
“You’re nearly done,” he said sweetly.
“Ok, well, I just peed the bed, so unless you can ensure that won’t happen again, being nearly done isn’t good enough. Oh, and yesterday I couldn’t make it down the stairs at the beach house. I couldn’t see the stairs, Porter. My big-ass belly was in the way and I couldn’t see the stairs. I had to go down them sideways. SIDEWAYS. I can’t get up from the couch on my own, I can’t sleep on my stomach, I can’t eat a turkey sandwich, and I really want a turkey sandwich.” I was seething at this point and could feel my heart beating rapidly. I stopped and took a few deep breaths in and out. “I love this baby, Porter,” I said, looking him in the eyes. “I do. But I want it out, like, now.” He walked to me and wrapped his arms around me.
“I can’t imagine what it feels like to be pregnant, but I can tell you that you’re doing a wonderful job. The baby will come when it’s time.” I groaned into his naked chest. After a moment, I pulled away and waddled into the shower. When I emerged, feeling clean again, I smiled at the fresh pajamas folded neatly on the counter. The gross ones were gone and I decided my husband needed some sort of award. I dried off, dressed, and then made my way back into the bedroom only to find Porter putting clean sheets on the bed.
“You’re the best. I’m sorry you have to clean up after me.”
“If I could take all the pain and uncomfortableness from you, I totally would. But if all I can do is change some sheets, you best believe I’m gonna be the best sheet changer there is.” I walked to him and wrapped my arms around his waist as he placed a kiss on the top of my head.
“We’re going to laugh about this someday, right? Like, one day this will be funny and not mortifying?”
“Honestly, Ella, I’m already laughing.” I smacked him on the stomach and then looked down at my legs.
“Mother Fucker.” This shit was not funny. “I think I just peed again.” I shook my head, still looking down, confusion taking over. “This is weird. I didn’t even feel like I had to go.”
Porter gave me a look that probably mirrored mine, confusion furrowing his brow. “This might be the weirdest question I’ll ever ask you, but, are you sure it was pee?”
“What do you mean?” I asked him, but I knew what he meant. “I’m not due for two more weeks.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Due date or not, the baby comes when the baby wants to.” Even as he said the words I could feel more liquid oozing out of me. Not a lot, but enough that I could feel it and it made me squirm.
“Let’s call the hospital.” I said the words and then I felt the nerves take over. I called the number for the labor and delivery wing and spoke with a very nice nurse. I explained the situation to her, much to my embarrassment.
“Well,” she said sweetly, “if you’re feeling fluid coming from your vagina, and you don’t have to urinate, there is a good probability that your membrane has ruptured. What did the fluid smell like?”
“Uh,” I stammered. “I didn’t smell it.” I tried to hide the disgust from my voice. Who goes around smelling the sheets they just soiled?