Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
But even as I tried to coax the human inside me to make his entrance, my heart quickened with trepidation.
What if I couldn’t do it? What if bringing a life into this world was not on the list of things I was good at? I’d always been a high-achiever, but all those goals I’d achieved in life were within my control. It terrified me to think that the most amazing and important thing I would ever do was this scary, painful, unpredictable event. I couldn’t study or practice my way to expertise.
Thankfully, I trusted my doctor completely. Not only had she delivered over a thousand babies (when I’d requested the exact number, she’d just smiled and said she wasn’t entirely sure, but it was definitely over a hundred per year and she’d been doing this for more than ten years), but she had three kids herself, so I figured she knew what she was doing.
Noah would be right there at my side of course, but he’d promised to remain up by my head—I was a little nervous he wouldn’t look at my lady parts the same way after witnessing the whole birthing process, although he claimed that was total nonsense.
A moment later, he came down the steps carrying my pink slippers and a pair of socks. “Here,” he said, kneeling at my feet. “I’ll help you get these on.”
I watched him maneuver the socks over my swollen feet and push them up toward my knees. “Nice. Nothing says Happy Birthday Jesus like tube socks. Are these yours?”
“Yeah. I wanted to keep your legs warm and you don’t have any tall socks.”
My heart fluttered. “Thanks, babe. Sorry to be such a complainer.”
He rose to his feet, his joints cracking. “You’ve earned the right. I’d bitch too if I was carrying around a bowling ball in my belly.”
“With legs that kick,” I reminded him as he brought my fur-lined, rubber-soled winter boots over and stuck them on my feet. “And a head that’s wedged against my bladder.”
“That does not sound pleasant.” He reached for both my hands. “Ready?”
“Don’t forget the heartburn and the nausea and the backaches and the sweating,” I said, placing my palms in his. “Ready.”
“Okay, here we go.” He pulled and I pushed, and it took some grunting on my part, but I managed to stand. “Good job.”
“Thanks.” Placing my hands on my lower back, I tried for a deep breath, but expanding my lungs was tough. My abdomen tightened and I winced.
“What’s wrong?” Noah asked, his brow furrowing with concern.
“Nothing. Just more Braxton Hicks.”
“Do you want to call the doctor?”
“No! It’s Christmas, and I’ve already embarrassed myself twice by going to the ER with these fake labor pains.” I waddled toward the door. “I’ll get my coat.”
“I’ve got it.” Noah rushed ahead of me to the closet—would I ever move that quickly again?—and took out the wool maternity coat my mom had given me this fall. I slipped my arms in the sleeves, and he buttoned it up for me, then reached around me for the ribbon belt and tied a bow on top of the giant mound of my belly. “There. Just like a gift.”
“The only Christmas gift I want is to have this baby.” I looked out the window at the sky. “Are you listening, Santa?”
Noah leaned in and kissed my forehead. “Hang in there, Sawyer.” He wrapped his arms around me and I snuggled into his burly embrace as well as I could, hugging his waist and pressing my face to his chest. Being close to him was comforting—I knew how lucky I was, and how lucky our baby boy was going to be.
“You know what? Maybe we should stay home,” said Noah. “It’s cold out there, and—”
“No, let’s go,” I said, making up my mind to have a more positive attitude.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” Letting go of him, I shrugged. “Maybe if I party hard enough, I’ll shake him loose.”
Noah laughed. “Do you want me to grab the hospital suitcase from the bedroom?”
I thought for a second, then dismissed the idea with a wave of my hand. “Nah. If I bring it, I’ll probably jinx myself and it’ll be another week.”
He nodded. “I’m going to back the car out, and then I’ll come back for you. Don’t try to go down those steps by yourself.”
“Okay, Dad.”
Laughing, he gave me another quick kiss before heading out the back door. “Guess I have to get used to that.”
“Wow. This is a lot of snow. It’s coming down fast.” I peered out the windshield as Noah carefully navigated the roads to Cloverleigh Farms, where I’d grown up, and where my parents threw a big Christmas party every December 24th. The inn was always closed to guests the week of Christmas, and every year we looked forward to celebrating with staff and their families. However, due to the predicted blizzard, my parents had canceled the usual large, extravagant gathering, and only my four sisters and I (plus our husbands and kids) would be attending.