Aurora
Sam had left for the airport an hour ago, leaving me with Harlow, who hadn't budged from my side. The two of us were bundled up on the sofa, covered in the throw Sam had splayed over us before he was forced to leave once more. The sound of the TV played softly in the background as tried to drift off to sleep. I was exhausted. It was nearing nine o'clock and I could feel the heaviness growing in my eyelids. It seemed that as the days passed, my fatigue grew exponentially and I couldn't find the energy to do anything. It was something that Sam picked up on whilst he was back but I did explain that I was growing a full child.
My hopes of getting sleep were heavily anchored by what felt like contractions. But that wasn't possible. I wouldn't be having contractions at twenty-seven weeks pregnant. It was likely Braxton-Hicks, which was why I hadn't mentioned anything to Sam, for the fear of scaring him too much to leave for tour.
But what had started as a dull contraction was starting to gain intensity like a ball rolling down a hill and I was starting to question what birth would feel like if these were false contractions.
"Y'alreet, pet?" Harlow asked in concern upon noticing my wince.
"Just Braxton-Hicks," I grunted, clutching my bump in pain. "Fuck, this really hurts."
"Are they meant to be that bad?" she frowned.
"I dunna," I shrugged. "Probably."
"D'ya want us to grab yer anything?" she questioned, unsure of what to do with herself as she watched me in pain.
"Can yer grab us a glass of water please?" I inquired, letting out a slow exhale as I tried to manage my pain.
"Course," she agreed quickly, pushing herself up off the sofa and meandering around the furniture to the kitchen.
I focused on my breathing as I was hit with another wave of contractions but what peaked my concern more was the trickle of water down my leg.
"Fuck," I gasped.
"What? What is it?" Harlow demanded.
"I think my waters have gan," I cried.
"B-but... but it's too early!" she fretted. "Are yer sure yer ain't pissed yourself?"
"I'm sure, Harls," I told her frightfully. "We need to go to the hospital."
"Yes," she agreed immediately, digging her phone out of her pocket and dialling a number as she strode towards me. "It's alreet, pet. You're gan be alreet."
"I'm scared," I sobbed, holding my bump mournfully. "I want Sam."
"I'm calling him," she assured me, helping me stand from the sofa. "Ceemon, let's get yer to the car. We need to go."
I let her lead me to her car, carefully climbing into the passenger side as she climbed in the driver's side. She was cool and collected as she switched the engine on and began the drive to the hospital.
"Ceemon, Sam, answer, goddamnit," she huffed under her breath as the call went straight to voicemail once more. She soon gave up, moving on to call my dad and inform him of the situation. Then Shirley, then my aunt Emily and so on until everyone who needed to know knew.
Luckily, my dad was able to meet us there along with Tom and Jess, who quickly helped me into the hospital. Harlow had called Rosalie, who let the hospital know we were coming and so, it didn't long for me to be admitted.
"Where's Sam?" I demanded fearfully, overwhelmed by the influx of healthcare professionals that surrounded me, poking and prodding me with needles and performing various tests.
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Drop Dead | Sam Fender
Fanfiction'Did you come around here just to start a fight? Drop dead.' Sam's difficulty with relationships stems all the way back to his adolescence. He hasn't had it easy growing up in the Northeast of England but he managed to escape his teens unscathed. Mo...
