The Adventures of James Dean.

37.

I felt the blood drain from my face as her contractions came thick and fast, and the EMT underwent an internal examination. When he appeared from the business end, he held up four fingers, passing Kennedy a smile.

'Four centimetres honey. You're doing great.'

She squeezed my hands from where I sat beside the guy who just had half his arm up my girlfriends birth canal. Weird thinking of it like that, when hours before I'd been up in there. If I thought too much about it, I might have fainted. I'm a guy. We're all wimps underneath it all.

He squeezed her other hand.

'I'm no obstetric clinician, Miss Clark, but that bleeding doesn't appear sinister. I'd say it was just your show.'

'Your show?' I hadn't a clue what he meant. Was this like another language or some term pregnant women knew? I should have paid more attention. I should have insisted we went to some birthing classes.

Not for her sake, hell she was in control. More for mine!

'When a woman goes into labour her mucus plug comes away and sometimes it can be a little bloody.' He patted her hand again, reassuringly, and I nearly passed out. The images of mucus and blood turned my stomach, as did the grimace on her face. In tv shows this kinda always looked glamourous I mean the women screamed but they never looked as nervously apprehensive as Kennedy. What the flying fuck was a mucus plug. I imagined some gremlin living inside her covered in slime.

I heard chuckling, and to my surprise, Kennedy had her hand over her mouth, stifling what looked like raucous laughter. The way her shoulders shook gave her away, and even under the circumstances her eyes streamed with tears.

'What?!' I tried to look serious but I felt the smile twitching at my lips. The minx.

'You. Your face!' She turned away from me, giggling uncontrollably, and the EMT joined in. It was contagious. 'You look so grossed out, God I wish I had a camera then.' She dabbed at her eyes, and I couldn't help but feel that flutter in my stomach again. She was about to birth a human being and her spirits were intact. She was scared, I imagine most women are in some way whether they choose to admit it or not. She looked beautiful, in spite of being attached around the belly to a machine, and her blood pressure being monitored consistently. She could have been laid on our sofa back at home, on some idle Sunday afternoon.

'Mucus plugs sound vile.' I muttered, and the EMT grinned at me.

'You wait till the baby does their first poo. Vile doesn't cover it.'

Kennedy laughed again, and I leant down to kiss her fingers.

'I'll leave you in charge of diapers baby.' I joked, stroking her cheek. She held my gaze firmly, fiery brown eyes boring into mine. The woman could seriously scare the bejesus out of me with one look.

'I don't think so, baby.' She put emphasis on that little affectionate term, 'I think I'm gonna be resting up while my man proves how much he wants to marry me.'

She giggled again, my expression probably didn't look too impressed, but you know what? I'd take that. Diapers, mucus plugs, morning sickness, bullets. The whole shebang.

.................

We arrived at the hospital and in a blur of nurses and squeaky flooring, and those garish white lights I'd hated so much during my little stay in this very hospital, we were shown to our room for the duration. Standing here, I looked in like I was peering into someone else's life. Some lucky bastard, who'd swapped luxurious hotel suites for this birthing suite, bringing a life into the world. With his girl. My text messages must have been recieved, because somewhere behind me I could hear my Dad's voice, and then Jen's voice.