My stay in Canada has been peaceful so far, and I’m grateful for the friends I’ve made here. Zoey has been incredibly supportive at the flower shop, even on the days when I just don’t feel like going to work.
Pregnancy has its ups and downs. Some days, all I want to do is curl up in bed and not move, while other times I find myself craving ice cream in the middle of the night. Thankfully, I’ve stocked the freezer with plenty of it.
Sydney’s parents left after their last visit, and I admire the love they share. It’s hard to believe there was a time when they were apart, and Mr. Blake had to chase her back.
The baby’s kicks have become more frequent, reminding me that my life is about to change in ways I can’t fully prepare for.
Every time I feel those little movements, I’m filled with a mix of excitement and fear-excitement that I’m about to become a mother, and fear that the responsibility ahead is both thrilling and terrifying.
Just as I’m lost in these thoughts, a customer walks in, snapping me back to reality. I quickly take her order and watch her leave, feeling a bit more grounded. Then I see Zoey heading my way.
“You know we’ve got to start preparing for tomorrow’s orders; we don’t have much time,” she says with urgency.
“Okay,” I reply, following her to the back as the other girls take over the front desk.
But as I’m about to sit down, I suddenly feel something wet trickle down my legs.
My heart skips a beat. “Oh my gosh, Zoey,” I exclaim, panic rising. “I can’t believe I just peed myself!”
Zoey’s eyes widen in shock, her mouth hanging open as she stares at me, frozen for a moment.
“What is it, Zoey?” I ask, my voice trembling with panic as I see her reaction.
“The baby… the baby is coming! Your water just broke!” she blurts out, the words tumbling out in a rush.
Her words hit me like a freight train, and suddenly, everything became real. “Oh my God!” I scream as a sharp cramp radiates through my lower abdomen, doubling me over in pain.
Zoey, completely disoriented, starts to panic, staggering back and forth without knowing what to do.
“Zoey, please!” I manage to gasp, clutching my belly as another wave of pain hits. “You have to call someone. We need to get to the hospital!”
Zoey rushed out to grab a phone, but the pain intensified, making me cry out in desperation. “Damn it, Zoey! Just help me get to the hospital!” I scream, my voice sharp enough to snap everyone else into action.
Thankfully it catches the attention of the other employees. Lucas, one of the guys who works with us, quickly steps in.
Without hesitation, he slips his arm around me, supporting my weight as I drape my arm over his shoulder. “Hang on, Nadine,” he says in a comforting voice.
I nod as we make our way outside, I see the company bus we use for deliveries parked just a few feet away.
Lucas turns his head, shouting to one of the others, “Get the keys!” and though I can’t see who he’s talking to, I feel relieved knowing that I have people around me.
The pain comes in waves, each one stronger than the previous one. I try to remember what they taught us in the antenatal classes, deep breaths, in and out, but it does nothing to ease the pain ripping through me.
As we finally get onto the bus, I grip Zoey’s hand like it’s my lifeline. I know I’m squeezing too hard, and she must be feeling it, but she just smiles at me, trying to stay strong.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” she keeps saying, though I can see the worry in her eyes.
The bus moves forward, but then we hit a slight traffic jam. I curse inwardly. “Not now, please,” I mutter under my breath. All I want is to get to the hospital and have this baby.
I’ve heard so many stories about labor-everyone has their theory and their own experience. But now, as the pain intensifies, I realize that no amount of lectures or advice can truly prepare you for this.
But each time the pain shoots through me, I scream. It feels like my whole body is being torn apart, and no amount of deep breathing or mental preparation can dull it.
Thankfully, the traffic is moving, but it feels like we’re crawling at a snail’s pace. “Why are you so damn slow, Lucas?” I seethe through gritted teeth, barely able to think through the pain.
“I’m going as fast as I can, Nadine,” Lucas replies, as he tries to keep calm.
Then Zoey’s phone started ringing, and the sound made me feel uncomfortable, “Pick up your damn phone, Zoey!” I snap, unable to bear the noise any longer.
Zoey fumbles to answer, her hands shaking. I can see the panic in her eyes.
Zoey finishes the call, “Ethan’s already on his way to the hospital,” she says as she hangs up.
By some miracle, Lucas finally pulls up to the hospital entrance. Zoey doesn’t waste a second; she jumps out of the bus and runs inside to get help.
Moments later, a team of nurses appears with a wheelchair, and they help me out of the vehicle. My legs feel like jelly, and I’m both sweating and shivering at the same time.
As they helped me into the wheelchair, the thought of going through this again anytime soon seemed impossible.
“I’m not having another child anytime soon,” I mutter to myself, my mind half in a fog of pain.
Another wave of searing pain makes me groan out loud, reminding me that the only thing I should be focused on is getting this baby out safely.
As I’m wheeled into the delivery room, the pain is relentless, making it hard to think clearly. I mutter a curse under my breath, trying to brace myself for what’s coming.
Ethan had promised to be with me, to stay by my side through all of this. But when I glance around, searching for him, he’s nowhere to be found.
I know we aren’t together officially, but still, a promise is a promise. I expected him to be here, and now, in my moment of need, I feel completely alone.
My thoughts spiral as I consider what might have been if I were still in my contract marriage with Logan. Would he have been here? Would he have stuck around to hold my hand of support as I faced this?
A bitter realization settles in: Ethan isn’t coming. Maybe I was foolish to think he would.
Men like him, and like Logan, always find a way to make you feel special, to lay down petals in your path.
But just when you start to believe in it, they pull everything away, leaving you feeling more worthless than before.
I clench my fists as the pain peaks again, I can’t rely on anyone but myself now. The one person I need to be strong for is the one who hasn’t even been born yet.
“Excuse me, please, I need to get to my wife,” the voice calls out urgently as I’m wheeled into the delivery room.
I can’t turn to see who it is; because of the pain. But there’s something hauntingly familiar about that voice.
It has been a ghost in my dreams, a voice that I’ve heard in my nightmares. Hearing it here, in this room, feels surreal.