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T H I R T Y E I G H T
Three Months Later
"Momma, can I wear the purple shoes Ba got me to dance class?"
Throwing myself tirelessly on Maia's bed after helplessly fighting with my sandals, a battle I seem to keep losing every day. "Yes, as long as you help me put my shoes on after you finish putting on yours." I nodded.
Being pregnant has been a wonderful experience up until every part of my body has gotten so swollen that I barely fit in my shoes or pregnancy clothes.
Lately, all I've wanted to wear has been oversized shirts without any pants or bras, for that matter, but no matter how much I wanted to stay home mostly naked, I still had to take care of my five-year-old. And leaving the house without pants was not acceptable according to society.
Whoever decided wearing no pants in public was illegal has never carried another growing human the size of a watermelon inside their body.
"All done," Maia announced, standing in front of me, looking rather proud that she managed to put on her brand-new shoes and my own all by herself.
"Thank you, sweetpea. You are mommy's lifesaver. Now let's get you to dance class." I smiled, pushing myself off the bed.
As I was about to exit the bedroom, I felt a slight wetness between my legs. I stopped in my tracks for a second, telling myself I had probably peed a little. Ever since I got pregnant, minor accidents have happened from time to time, but something was telling me this was not the case this time around.
"Shit." I panicked, holding on to the doorframe for support as I felt a slight pressure on my pelvis, slowly spreading to my lower back. "No, no, no."
There was no way my water broke. There was absolutely no way what I just felt was a mild contraction. This baby still had three weeks until they were due. This was not happening right now.
"Momma, are you okay? I think you went potty on yourself." Maia said, pointing at the amniotic fluid droplets trailing down my legs and onto the floor.
Trying to keep my cool in front of my child, I took a deep breath. "Maia, baby, I need you to do another favor for mommy. This time a really, really important one."
"What, momma?" She asked, standing like she was ready to tackle any job I threw her way. I swear this girl was five going on 21.
"Do you remember when daddy taught you how to call 9-1-1 and what to say when they answer, like your name and the address?"
Maia nodded, giving me a confused look. "Yes, but daddy said that it's for emergencies only. For when someone is hurt."
