The Baby Came Early—and So Did the Drama
Of course, the next night, the contractions started. I tried calling Jake — no signal. Typical. I called my MIL — she was at my door in twenty minutes flat.
“I told you it’d be today! Your belly dropped weird yesterday. I knew it!”
“Maybe now’s not the best time for belly analysis…” I groaned, gripping the doorframe as another contraction hit.
“Where’s your emergency kit? Who packed this hospital bag? Did you take the extra blanket? Honestly, everything falls on me!”
I sank into the car, clutching my belly, while she managed to call three of her friends to announce:
“We’re going to meet the grandson!”
She chirped like she had a gynecology degree with a minor in psychic predictions.
“It’s definitely a boy! I can feel it! That strong kick? Only boys kick like that. Girls don’t do that!”
I stayed silent because each new wave of pain made it impossible to deliver my trademark sarcasm.
“The important thing is he’s going to look like Jake! Same jawline. In our family, it’s a point of pride!”
Thank God, the car screeched to a stop in front of the hospital. Sheila leapt out like a superhero.
“Quickly! The heir is coming!”
I climbed out slowly, eyes turned to the night sky. “Okay, baby. Your time has come. Just… maybe hold off showing your gender for a few more peaceful minutes?”
***
Labor was… well, labor. I won’t sugarcoat it. It was painful, long, and wild. But then — a cry. A small, pure, unmistakable first cry. The nurse beamed at me.
“Congratulations! It’s a girl!”
I froze for a second.
Then Sheila somehow barged into the delivery room.
