A Storm Is Brewing

Passing Time

Leah POV

When we had gone to bed that night, Sophie had appeared perfectly fine. We had four weeks until the due date, and we were grateful for every day that went by without incident. After so much angst, we had finally arrived at a point in the pregnancy where we could relax and enjoy ourselves. Obviously, that came after we had passed the critical stages and knew our baby had a good chance of survival.

Sophie had been on maternity leave since the 26th week, and despite her denials, I knew she enjoyed being at home. Arsenal had granted me a reprieve from international travel, which meant that I would always be just a car ride away from her. It seemed like an unnecessary step, but for me, it was a must. I wasn't sure I would be able to get through missing another birth. We had devised a system that worked for both of us, even if other people thought we were being too much.

That's why, when I awoke that night to find Sophie sitting on the edge of the bed, I felt a wave of dread wash over me. Her hands were tightly gripping the sides of her lower back, each contraction coursing through her body causing her neck to arch backwards. I could hear her trying to take deep breaths, completely unaware that I was awake.

"Soph, what's wrong?"

She chuckled softly, tilting her head to glance at me affectionately while I shuffled across the bed towards her. I could see the redness in her cheeks and obvious signs that she had been teary, but as always, she brushed it all aside the moment she realised that I needed reassurance.

"The baby is most definitely on its way. I didn't want to wake you up until we could do something about it." She whispered.

Adrenaline rushed through me. Every cell in my body was willing me to gather our belongings, scoop her into my arms, and dash to the car. But if the last few months had taught me anything, it was that Sophie needed me to simply trust her in these situations. After all, she was the person who had done this before, even if not in the same way.

"Stop looking at the hospital bag and trying to remember where the car keys are; it's not time yet." She chuckled again, interlocking her fingers with mine.
"What do I do then?"
"Well, I had planned to let you sleep a little longer, but now that you're awake, we should probably move downstairs so it's easier when it is time."
"Right, yeah, course. Yep."
"Babe?"
"I know. I'm calming down. Right now, I promise."

It took at least ten minutes to get her from the bed to the living room, proving that she was right about it being best that we were downstairs when things progressed. Even being on the same level as the car, I couldn't seem to settle my mind. I didn't know how to appear calm despite the fact I was a bundle of nerves on the inside, but I also didn't want to be the reason Sophie felt frightened.

"What should I do now?"
"You don't need to do anything. Just give me a cuddle."

Of course, her reasoning for requesting a cuddle wasn't just wanting one; the second I was in her arms, she ran her hands across my shoulders, doing that usual tense check and letting out a loving chuckle at how rigid they were.

"Hey, it's going to be okay, you know that?" She whispered.
"I know." I couldn't have sounded less confident.
"Tell me what you're thinking."
"I can't."
"Is it because we're still four weeks away from the due date?"

I couldn't speak, so I just nodded shyly. I had avoided voicing that worry since I'd woken up, afraid that she hadn't thought of the fact that it was still early.

"I read about it before you woke up." She chuckled.
"What did it say?"
"That 36 weeks is called late preterm. They always told us that I'd probably go early again, babe. This isn't too early."