When his sparkling green eyes spot me, he points in my direction, or should I say at my dress, and gives me a thumbs up. His gorgeous half-smile, which is all mine, cocks his right cheek up. Wearing the dress and boots were worth it. Seeing the happiness on his face floods me with love. I touch my infinity necklace hoping that he gets my hidden message that I love him.
He places his left hand over his heart showing me the engagement/wedding ring with our secret meaning.
I want to scream to the world, “See that man right there? He loves me. Colin fucking McKinney is in love with me.” What an amazing feeling.
Just then, another contraction hits me. It takes everything in my power to not double over, but I don’t. By God, I’ll give him no reason to question if I’m okay.
I force a smile on my face and cup my belly, which makes his smile even larger, if that’s possible. Next he points and waves at his parents, and then he finds Aiden and very discreetly flips him off while he pretends to scratch his nose.
Once Big Bertha has passed us, I sit back down, so grateful for the chair. I decide to time my contractions and see how far apart they are. The bands are going to play while the players get unloaded from the floats and make their way to the stage. Colin is going to be one of the last to speak. He hasn’t let me read his speech, and I’m dying to hear it.
Another contraction hits me as I suck in a huge gulp of air and squint my eyes. My muscles begin to relax as the tightness in my abdomen loosens up.
Chelsea stares at me with wide eyes. “What’s up? You look green.”
“Thanks,” I reply tartly. “You need to pluck your eyebrows.” Fortunately, my sister’s vain enough to worry about her unibrow and forget about me for a few minutes.
I settle back in my chair and note the time. Just when I’ve convinced myself that I was wrong and these are just Braxton Hicks contractions, it hits me—a contraction mixed with the worse stomach cramp that I’ve ever felt. I stand up and make my way towards the hotel room’s bathroom. I need a moment of privacy, because there is definitely something going on that’s making me feel funny.
I’m waddling as fast as I can when I feel a pop. Seconds later, a huge gush of water begins flowing out of me, soaking the carpet, my boots, and well, everything. There’s no sticking my head in the sand any longer. My bag of amniotic fluid just broke. I’m having our baby in the next twenty-four hours, celebration party or not.
I stand there like a moron.
In residency, I had to do a rotation in labor and delivery. I’ve watched women’s water break, and I’ve had to break the bag of fluid myself. I know scientifically what’s going on. However, that doesn’t diminish my panic one bit.
“Brad,” I scream, but he can’t hear me over the crowd noise. I’m paralyzed, and scared to death. I keep staring down at my soaked dress, boots, and the green-fern carpet. I want Colin. He’d have picked me up and carried me to the car by now. We’d be on the way to the hospital while I was yelling at him to slow down. Then, I’d be repeating my mantra: first-time mother’s babies are notoriously slow. It’ll probably be tomorrow before the child comes.
Instead, another contraction hits me, and I reach out for the chest of drawers next to me to steady myself. Once I can breathe again, I yell louder for Brad. When his auburn hair turns, and I see his face, I want to cry. I instantly know that he’ll take care of me. He’ll know what to do.
Brad comes rushing to me with his eyes bugging out of his head. When he’s close enough to hear me, I burst into tears. “My water broke.”
Brad immediately goes into nurse mode. He grabs his phone and calls my doctor who Colin made him put in his favorite’s list. While the phone is ringing he yells for Jenny, which causes everyone to turn around.
Jenny and the rest of the gang immediately recognize what has just happened. Janis ushers Marley past me and out of the room while she keeps asking what’s wrong with Auntie Charlie. Liza takes my hand, unparalyzing me, and leads me to the bathroom. “It’s okay, Caroline,” she says over and over as she helps me walk. “You’re going to be just fine.”
Jenny rushes ahead of us and grabs some towels out of the bathroom to throw over my mess, while Chelsea claps and squeals, “We’re having a baby.”
I put the lid down on the toilet seat and begin removing my soiled clothes while my dear friend Liza helps me out of my soaked boots. I can’t believe this is happening. My friend is touching my amniotic-soaked clothing. This is so humiliating.
She must read my face because she says, “I’ve removed puke and come-drenched jeans from rockers. I’ve had to cut clients out of leather pants that they’ve worn eight days straight without even bothering to take a shower. It’s a hazard of my profession.” She shrugs. “At least this is sanitary.” And just for that fantastic answer, if this baby is a girl, she’ll be named after Liza.