A Storm Is Brewing

Passing Time

Here she was, suffering from contractions but still reassuring me. Her hand was gently stroking through my hair, her voice soft and calm, and her lips pressing against my forehead. Before I had a chance to respond, another contraction arrived, forcing the two of us to sit up. Not really sure what to do, I simply offered my hand to her, which seemed to work.

"That one was eight minutes from the last one, Soph."

I wasn't really useful in this, but I could use a stopwatch, which Sophie had told me was the most important job, likely just an exaggeration to make me feel included.

"We should probably go to the hospital now. You put the bag in the car, right?"
"Yeah. The bag, the car seat, the folder, and change for the car park."
"Wow. You're getting good at this organisation thing. Can you go and wake mum? Tell her we're going?"

Sophie's mum had been staying with us for the last week, insisting that she come early just incase. To be honest, everyone had showered us with help. I knew why; they wanted to make sure everyone knew their station should things end up like they did last time. She was sleeping when I knocked on the door, and for some reason, I wasn't sure how I was meant to word this.

"Jackie, sorry for waking you."

I probably should've started with everything's okay.

"What's wrong?" She shot up in the bed.
"Sophie's in labour; we're going to the hospital. She's fine, though." I smiled.

She didn't waste any time before she was out of bed and following me downstairs. Sophie rolled her eyes as her mum pulled her into a hug, even though I knew she was loving every second of finally feeling the support she had gone so long without from her.

"You call me as soon as you have any news, Leah, won't you?"
"Of course."
"And you remember your manners when you're in that room! No shouting."
"I'll do my best, mum." Sophie chuckled.

We were just a short drive away from the hospital, able to get there in under fifteen minutes. Sophie's pain had progressively gotten worse, but she was still reassuring me from the passenger seat.

"I hate this place." She sighed as I pulled into the parking space.
"I know, babe. This time will be different, though, I know it will." I didn't.
"You stay at my head, okay?"
"But -"
"At my head, Leah. We agreed."
"It won't put me off -"
"My head!"
"Okay, okay!" I chuckled, holding my hands up to protest my innocence.

I offered to fetch her a wheelchair, but she insisted on walking—not surprising, really, from the most independent person I'd ever met. She clutched my shoulder as we walked, wincing in pain and biting the neck of her jumper.

"Hello, you two! What time of the night do you call this?" Gillian grinned.
"Trust me, this one has tried her best to stretch it out until the morning." I chuckled.
"Right, I'll get you a wheelchair." Gillian smiled.
"No!" Sophie shook her head.
"Soph -"
"Do I look like I need a wheelchair?" She raised her eyebrows.
"Don't answer that, Leah. Come on through; we've got a room ready for you."

Gillian was one of the kindest people I'd come across in my life. From the second we met her at one of our appointments, she was so mindful of how worried we would be. At every scan, she was there in the background, telling us how healthy the baby was or exaggerating how perfectly the pregnancy was going.

She got to know both of us on more than a name basis, learning that when Sophie was adamant about something, there was no changing her mind, and when I played with my wedding ring, something was on my mind.

Like now.

"Right you, is there a baby bag in the car?"
"Yeah. Yes. God! I've left it in the car."
"Let's go get it." Gillian smiled.
"Go on, I'm fine." Sophie nodded towards the door.