It didn't feel right; she didn't feel right. I knew it wasn't going to be easy from early on; I don't know why I felt so certain, but I just knew. Daniel had been such an easy pregnancy; he grew almost discreetly, he was ready on time and he was delivered quickly, without any fuss.
But this one, our daughter, she felt uncooperative. I'd felt like it for months, the occasional stab in my womb, an angry shift as though she were trying to shove me. She didn't feel happy in there. And as soon as I woke up that morning; the excruciating dash to the bathroom, the slight pop inside me, the trickle of the discoloured liquid running down my leg and the enflamed discomfort I felt with every breath afterwards, I knew that she was ready to leave me.
It didn't feel right.
It reminded me of walking with a stone in your shoe. The sharp pain shooting through your whole body, being entirely aware of the agony with every step, except I couldn't turn my stomach upside down and bash the stone out. I refused the pain relief. As soon as Doctor Sumra suggested it I refused it.
'-they could suppress her breathing during delivery-'
'No.' I shook my head, which was drenched with sweat. 'I don't want that.'
I knew Ronit wanted me to take the medication; I saw her press her lips together when I spoke, and her chin fell slightly. I was grateful she didn't say anything.
'She seems to have moved further up.' Doctor Sumra was studying the screen where our daughter was presented as a blur of lines and colour. I scratched at the drip on my arm; magnesium sulphate for the baby, I didn't even want to listen to the reasons why I needed it, I had just agreed.
'What does that mean?' Ronit asked, she was still rubbing my back, but I wasn't saying anything. I felt too guilty.
The doctor sighed. 'We might have to consider a caesarean, if you're happy for us to explore that option, Esti.'
I shrugged. 'Whatever is best for her.'
Sumra nodded, and she did another examination to check the state of me and the baby; I was so used to it now that I didn't care, but I noticed Ronit looked away every time. Our eyes caught each another at one point and she smiled, but I couldn't. I'd failed to give her what she wanted. I'd given her an early birth with a daughter who clearly felt no attachment to the home I'd given her. It was horrid.
'Unfortunately,' Sumra said, throwing her disposable gloves into the bin. 'Because she is under 35 weeks, she'll have to undergo some observation and tests.'
I heard Ronit whimper, and my eyes closed as a severe clench grabbed my womb.
'But she is advanced, and she's quite a long baby which means she's grown beautifully in 34 weeks. You've made a lovely home for her, Esti.'
'So that's good? She's healthy?' Ronit asked, I felt the strain of her fingers against my back.
'It is good, yes. If she was smaller, there'd probably be more complications.'
'Will we get to hold her?' Ronit asked, her head tilted slightly. 'Before she goes for tests?'
'Oh, we can do all of the tests while she's with you. We'll have to take a look at her as soon as she's out, then we can make a decision, but as of now I don't see why she'd need to be submitted to neonatal care.'
'That's good. Esti, did you hear that?'
I nodded, as I felt the intensifying squeeze flowing and ebbing, as though our daughter was clenching and releasing my pelvis with her fists.
Ronit perked up after that. She moved between tending to me and going to check on Daniel; she must have been so tired. When the windows in the room turned from black to a light navy, she pulled out her phone and called Dovid. I'd been drifting in and out of a cramped, aching doze, but I overheard her.
