but I guessed they were used to having plenty of random family members come in. They probably assumed he was my brother or something.
We got settled in a room and the nurse determined that I was most definitely in labor and that things were “progressing nicely.” I managed to bite my tongue and not argue with her definition of “nice” as another contraction started at my lower abdomen, worked its way up my belly and then clamped down when it reached the top. I would probably have been impressed with the mechanics of child birth if I hadn’t been so consumed with all my worries.
Louisa rubbed my back and got me juice and reminded me to “think of the contractions as pressure instead of pain.” That helped some, and as I concentrated really hard on breathing and relaxing, I was able to get through the next two and a half hours.
Then my phone rang. Louisa picked it up to look at the screen. “It’s Sean,” she announced, the relief evident in her voice.
A great wave of relief rose up, along with a flurry of other emotions that I didn’t bother identifying. “Put it on speaker,” I said, not trusting myself to hold a phone.
She did as I asked.
“Sean?” I nearly cried.
“What’s wrong, Libs? Nick left me a message to call you as soon as I got offstage.” He sounded appropriately panicked.
“I’m gonna have a baby.”
There were three seconds of silence and then, “Now? You’re in labor now?”
“Yes. I’m at the hospital and—” I stopped talking so I could breathe through my contraction.
“She’s doing great, Sean,” Louisa jumped in. “We’re all settled here at the hospital. The nurses say everything is fine.”
Sean was suddenly yelling out instructions to the people around him, rearranging so that he could get out of there as soon as possible, then he was back to talking to me. “Are you okay, Libby? Are you sure? Has the doctor seen you? Do you have everything you need?” He shot the questions at me one after the other.
“Sean, please don’t freak me out more than I am!” I yelled, overwhelmed by all his questions and the panic in his voice. It was not comforting.
He swore. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, Sean,” Louisa interrupted. “Why don’t you hang up and call us back when you’re on your way and don’t have so many people around?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Good idea. I’m so sorry I’m not there, Libs. I never should have come.”
“It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I’m just glad you’re coming. You are coming, right?” I demanded.
“Right now. I’m leaving right now.”
“Good,” was all I had the energy to say.
“All right,” Louisa jumped in again. “Call us back when you’re a little calmer. Okay, Sean?”
“Of course. I love you, Libby. You’re amazing.”
“We’ll talk later, Sean. Buh-bye,” Louisa said and then hung up. “Phew. That boy is a mess for you.”
I let out the barest chuckle and did my best to breathe deep and go back to my zen place. They had offered me an epidural, but being the wife of an acupuncturist, I tended to lean toward the natural route, so I had settled in for the long haul.
Sean called back an hour later, much calmer than he’d been before. He had chartered a private jet for the first time in his career. I was glad we could speak freely without strangers overhearing him. I was happy to have him on the phone, but my labor had progressed to the point where I didn’t want to talk, even between contractions, so I asked him to play for me. He picked songs and melodies that were calm and slow and sweet. But only half an hour into the flight, I went into transition and the music no longer helped.
I screamed as another contraction roared to life, this one stronger than any of the rest.
“I’m having a baby, Sean!” I yelled once the worst of it had eased up. “If you can’t handle it, then hang up!”
“Don’t worry, Sean,” Louisa called out, taking pity on him. “If something bad is happening, you’ll hear me panicking. Any screaming or yelling from Libby is normal. It just means she’s getting close.”
He swore again. He’d been doing that a lot tonight. It was strangely comforting, hearing him say all the things I was thinking. “I’m not going to make it. It’s still at least an hour and a half before I can get there.”