My LOVE is Forever (Book 4-1st Alternate Ending)

Part 50

Monday morning arrives, Tyka is awake early and rearing to go, where it seems as I am taking even longer to wake up.   With a concerned expression, Tyka asks, "Bad night?"

"Most nights are anymore, it's so hard to get comfortable.  My back is killing me this morning," which is obvious because my hands have been on my low back pretty much since I have crawled out of bed.  "But you didn't come down here to listen to me complain," I laugh off the pain.

Tyka shakes her head and places her hand on my shoulder, "Honey, you should have heard me during my pregnancies," she laughs, "I was miserable and I made sure everyone knew it.  Don't worry, I don't mind at all."

After a quick breakfast, we both head to our prospective bathrooms to start getting ready for my late morning appointment.  Stepping into the shower, I let the hot water run over my back, my eyes close with relief when this eases some of the achiness.  I have just begun to wash myself thoroughly when I feel something different than just soap lather on my hands.  I had been having more discharge lately, but this seems to have more substance to it as I examine it, my face slightly scrunched up with distaste.  The term "show" comes to mind from the pregnancy books as I rinse my hand and squeeze more soap from the dispenser.  "Ewww," I say out loud as I set about making sure I am clean for my appointment. 

I finally feel clean enough to step out of the shower, and start to hurry to make myself presentable for my appointment.  I slip on a long skirt, a light sweater and my now favorite go-to pair of tennis shoes. I have come to discover that I don't care how bad the shoes look with whatever I'm wearing, I'm only concerned with comfort.  When people eye them, I just shrug and joke, "I have no idea what shoes I'm wearing." 

In relatively short order, I meet Tyka who's already waiting in the living room, we did good and still have plenty of time before we have to leave.  When I remain standing in the middle of the room with my hands supporting my back, Tyka asks, "Are you ready to go?"

"No, I have to pee twenty more times first," I reply with a laugh as I began to walk slowly around the room.  This prompts her next question, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just achy and uncomfortable," I say matter of factually, but honestly I'm feeling more restless than anything. "I think I'm losing my mucus plug," I casually mention to her. 

Tyka stands quickly, "Maybe you should go pee and we'll leave a little bit early," she offers.

With that I go back down the hallway to my bathroom, use the toilet, and just as we're gathering our things to go, I huff in aggravation.  "I'll be right back," and head down the hallway again.   When I come rushing back down the hallway and say, "Let's go," grabbing my purse in mid stride. Tyka's eyes get so big, I have to laugh, "I just want to get in the car before I have to pee again." 

I drive to the obstetricians office, since Tyka doesn't know the way, and I frown at the clock when we pull into the parking lot a good thirty minutes early.  Oh, well, I think, at least they have a bathroom.   I beeline to the restroom as soon as I enter the waiting room, while Tyka signs me in.  I used to chuckle under my breath when I had first started coming here, seeing all the very pregnant women waddle through the door and head to the restroom first, now I get it.  Luck has it that my doctor had a cancellation that wasn't filled, and after only two trips to the toilet, my name is called. 

As soon as the doctor enters the room to find me walking in circles, she smiles knowingly.  I introduce Tyka and go on to explain my discomfort, my need to pace, and the restlessness I've been feeling so far today along with what happened this morning in the shower.  The doctor nods as she listens, "Hop on up and I'll check you out."  Her hands are washed and gloves are put on as I drop my underwear and assume the position on the table.  I breathe through the little exam, staring blankly at the ceiling, still uncomfortable with the process of being prodded.  The gloves come off in silence and when the doctor turns from tossing them into the trash, she's grinning.  "You have discharged your mucus plug, and you're starting to dilate."  When my eyes get big, she tells us, "You're almost to three.  Now, you might not progress any further for days, or..." she shrugs, "you might start active labor anytime." 

We listen intently to her instructions, and she has me wash my hands and shows me how to check my cervix on my own to help me gauge my progress since the hospital is almost forty minutes from my home.  By the time we leave, Tyka is radiating with excitement, but I'm feeling a little dazed by all the information and the fact that the moment I've been anxiously awaiting has possibly arrived.  

On the ride home, I tell the car to call Angel.  While the phone rings I warn Tyka, "You might want to cover your ears." 

"Hello?" Angel sounds like I had woke her, but denies that to be true.  I tell her all about the appointment and sneak glances at Tyka who's still grinning.  As soon as Angel hears 'dilated to three', a deafening squeal emits from the cars speakers, Tyka quickly covers her ears.  "I'm almost home," I finally tell her, "but I promise that you'll be the first one I call if things start happening."

Tyka watches me like a hawk the remainder of the day.  I pace, read, take a short nap, try to watch some television with her, we eat, but nothing eases my restlessness.  At one point I even get back into the shower, because the heat of the water on my aching back grants me temporary relief.  I have just returned to the living room in my pajamas and apologize to Tyka for being so preoccupied today.  She shakes her head with a smile, "No need to apologize," she laughs, "I'll be surprised if this baby doesn't arrive tonight."  I glance at the clock and frown, it's already 10:30.  Tyka looks at the time, "Okay, maybe tomorrow, but she's on her way, I know it."

"Oh, God, I hope it's not tomorrow," I breathe.

"Why?" Tyka looks confused.

"Tomorrow's the thirteenth," I grimace.  "I know it's just a number, and I'm not even really superstitious, but I don't want her born on the thirteenth."

Tyka just gives me the raised eyebrow, are-you-serious look, "I don't believe you have much say in the matter." 

I swear I could hear Prince's chuckle in my ear when she said that.