The Tales of a Future Hockey Wife

Chapter 58: Pain and Joy

~Ben~

I don't know why I lied when she asked if the bag was in the car. I guess I didn't want her to worry about not having her stuff. In my defense, I thought I had more time. We still had two weeks until her due date and first-borns usually come late, right? That's what my mom told me. So, when her nails started digging half-moons in the skin of my wrist, I started panicking. We were supposed to have more time. More time to prepare, more time to be just the two of us, more time to be teenagers. We haven't been teenagers in a while though. The last time I felt like a teenager was when I was still in high school.

I speed a little on the way to the hospital, if it were to go quicker than anyone expects, I wouldn't know what to do. Thoughts of our car breaking down cross my mind, but I shut them down. Focus on the positive, Ben. You'll meet your daughter in a few hours. It should fill me up with joy, but it freaks me out at this exact moment. I hope she never asks about the day she was born. I would have to lie and say I was overly excited and that my eyes were filled with happy tears when the reality is much different. I am freaked out, my hands are shaking on the steering wheel, and my foot feels too heavy on the gas pedal. I just want to get to the hospital to give the control to someone else. I want someone who knows what they're doing to take charge and to tell me everything will be fine. How shitty of a father will I be if I am already retrieving myself from all responsibilities of how today will end? I wish I could be strong enough to tell Eleanor that everything will be fine, but I know that she would see right through me, so I stay silent as we get closer to the hospital.

When we finally get there, Eleanor's breathing is hoarser than I've ever heard. She sounds as if an elephant was sitting on her rib cage, prohibiting her from inhaling enough air. I help her as we get in the elevator, holding her close to me as her nails still dig deep shapes in my skin. The one-minute-trip to the maternity ward seems to take forever. When the nurse walks up to us with a wheelchair, it feels like a part of the weight I had been carrying is lifted off of my shoulders to land on hers. To me, she's now the responsible one. She leads us to an empty room and gives me a clipboard filled with forms to fill out as she helps Eleanor settle into the bed. I start to answer the easy questions, name of the parents, birthdays, today's date, the physician assigned to your case, etc. until I get to the tricky parts like social security numbers and assurance policies. How am I supposed to know that?

"El, what's your social security number?" I ask when she's fully settled in and the contractions seem to take a break.

"My card is in the bag, Ben, so is our assurance policy papers. Go home, go get the bag." Shit. She knows I forgot the bag. Of course, she knows, she knows me better than I know myself. I nod, getting up from my chair.

"Don't give birth without me, ok? I want you to promise me that she'll still be inside when I get back." I have messed up too much to miss my daughter's birth. If there's one thing I want to do right, it's this.

"That's not really my choice to make, but I'll do my best," she answers with a smile. "Now, go, please." I nod again before getting close to her bed to give her a kiss. "I'll be fine, Ben. Go." After taking one last look at her, I grab the car keys and head out the door.

I drive home as fast as I can without risking getting a ticket. That would really make me miss the birth. As soon as I enter our apartment, I spot the pink bag Eleanor bought online underneath all of my hockey gear that I still haven't stored. I now remember what happened after Eleanor told me to put the bag in the car. I took all of my equipment out of the trunk since I wouldn't be needing it anymore, and I brought it inside, but I put it over the hospital bag, so I forgot to load it in. I feel so stupid; I might bang my head on the wall a couple times. I grab the bag and run down the stairs after making sure I locked the door behind me.