I shifted, trying to get comfortable; it wasn’t easy since I was now 9 months and 2 weeks pregnant. Harry was coming home today from touring and I wanted the nursery to look perfect. I was sitting in the rocking chair looking around. I kept shifting; finally I gave up and left the room, waddling to the bathroom to pee for the umpteenth time. I wondered where Harry was, he left Buenos Aries, last night and should have been in the States by now. I left the bathroom and made my way to the kitchen. I stopped suddenly in the middle of the kitchen, a hand to my stomach. It hurt like a cramp only worse.
“Shit.” I said looking around, I had packed a bag for this, where was it? I found it and grabbed my phone and made my way out the door. I called Harry; it went to voice mail, of course.
“Hey Harry.” I said my voice deceptively calm as I made my way down the stairs to the ground floor. Why did I get this apartment? It has too many stairs. “This is Emma.” I made my way outside and raised a hand to hail a cab. Water started rushing down my leg. “Shit, okay my water just broke. I’m having a baby where the fuck are you?” I screamed the last part into the phone and hung up just as a cab pulled up. I got in quickly. The cab driver turned to ask for my destination.
“Hospital now!” I barked.
“You have a preference?”
“Just drive unless you know how to deliver a baby!” The cab sped away. I struggled to calm my breathing. I had another contraction and screamed. The cab started going faster.
“Harry! I need you!” I yelled, as though he could hear me.
“My name’s Isaac.” The driver said.
“Not you!” I snapped. We arrived at the hospital and I threw money at the driver, not even counting the bills. I got out of the cab and tried to walk towards the door. Nurses came rushing out with a wheel chair and I gratefully sat down. I had another contraction. I yelled again.
“Where are you Harry?” I screamed again.