Full Term

1

Taylor Graham's kitchen smells like chocolate chip cookies. A fresh batch sits on the counter. She contentedly rinses soap off a mixing bowl and stacks it in a full dish drain. A hand towel printed with pug faces is tucked on the handle of the oven. Humming, she takes the towel and dries her hands, then looks down at her large, pregnant belly. The front of her shirt is soaked in dishwater. It happens all the time now. Getting used to this huge belly hasn't been easy. Sighing, she puts the cookies away for later, then waddles through the humble kitchen into a small laundry room.

Stacks of clean baby clothes are folded in a basket atop the washer in anticipation of the birth, which will be  any  day now. She passes by them and heads to the dryer. In the last month Taylor has grown three sizes. Nearly nothing fits her and they're tight on money right now. The dryer holds the few things that she can still wear. As she opens the lid and bends to retrieve a freshly cleaned shirt, pain shoots through her lower abdomen.

"Ah!" she cries, sucking in a sharp breath.

Her muscles cramp, and she leans against the dryer for stability. Her heart starts pounding rapidly. This is the third pain she's had like this today. After denying it the first few times, it's time for her to face the facts. Third time's a charm. She's pretty sure it's a good indication that today would be the day. She had hoped her husband, Mark, would at least be home when it began.

"Oh, not yet, not yet," she pleads.

From the pocket in her maternity pants, she pulls out an old cell phone and flips it open. It only takes two presses of a button to call Mark. He picks up on the first ring.

"Hey, babe."

"Honey, it's happening," she says slightly panicked.

"No! Now? I'm about to walk into a meet-hold on." Mark holds the phone away and speaks to someone, but Taylor can still hear him. "I've got to go, my wife's in labor. Helfrink, cover me." He comes back to the phone. "I'm on my way, but it'll be a few hours before I can make it."

"These things go pretty slow. I'm sure you'll have plenty of time," she says, trying to sound calm. If he could see her face, he'd know she's terrified. She's only twenty and doesn't know exactly what to expect. She knew child birth would be scary, but anticipating it and actually being in it are two different things.

"Let's hope. If not, don't waste time, call an ambulance and get to the hospital. I'll follow soon, okay?"

Taylor doesn't like the thought of going to the hospital without Mark. He should be there with her. But her husband is persistent and she doesn't feel like hearing a lecture on how important it is to be safe rather than sorry.

"Okay," she agrees. "But get here quick. Love you."

"Love you, too," he says, then hangs up.

She tries to call her sister, but she's at work. Her parent's home phone rings several times before she gives up and clamps her phone shut. Taylor changes her shirt and goes to the bedroom to try to relax. A book titled Motherhood for New Mothers is open and laying pages down on the nightstand on her side of the bed. Mark always insists on sleeping closer to the doorway. In case of intruders, he says. He was always protecting her.

She settles into the fluffy pillows and takes the book. Ideally, she hoped she'd be done  with it before little Sophia got here, but she's only made it three quarters of the way through. Reading just isn't working, though. She's fidgeting, unable to concentrate. Her feet won't seem to stay still as her anxiety to rise with each passing second. All the videos and books on child birth had only done new thing for Taylor: scared her to bits.

How could that come out of there? It doesn't seem logical. She can't wait to have Sophia there with her, but...why does a sweet little baby need to come into the world in such a horrific way, with dislocated bones and covered in blood? Just thinking of it made Taylor shiver.

Another contraction hits. It hasn't even been ten minutes, she realizes as she looks at her wristwatch. It causes her discomfort, but soon passes without too much pain. It's not that bad, she thinks. Those women on the videos were making it look like they were having a leg sawed off. These cramps she could deal with. Relieved, Taylor snuggles back into the pillows once again and continues to try reading.

Less than eight minutes goes by and the pain comes again. This time harder. Taylor draws her breath in sharply. Three more of these and she's regretting her previous thoughts. These were not little cramps. Much more of these and she'll be ready to claw the sheets to bits. Being alone doesn't help the situation at all. She rings Mark again.

"What's the word, bird?" he says.

"Ha-ha, Mark," Taylor says dully. "That hasn't been funny since...nineteen-eighty-something."

"Wow, labor has made you mean," Mark jokes.

"Please, babe, I'm not in a laughing mood," she says.

"Ah, just trying to lighten the mood before I tell you I'm stuck in traffic."

"You're what?" She sucks in a breath of air with another contraction.

"It looks-" Marks voice  strains as though he's trying to crane his neck to see. "Looks like there's been a wreck or something. But don't panic. I'm on my way."

"I can't wait that long, Mark. These contractions are already killer," she says, breathing heavily. "I need you."

"Okay,  okay. Call an ambulance, go to Cedar View Medical. Maybe they'll give you something to slow it down until I can get there."

"Good idea," Taylor says.

She and Mark hang up and she calls nine-one-one.

After getting Taylor's  information, the operator agrees to send someone along to get her and she hangs up to gather her overnight bag and Sophia's bag. Sophia's name is already embroidered on the side in pink, surrounded by little white bunnies. Trying to calm her anxiety, she's thinking of what Sophia's face will look like when she hears the ambulance beeping as it backs up outside.

A pale bald man wheels a hospital bed to her door where she stands waiting. His partner, a rather large woman, stands nearby. Her fluffy black hair makes her skin look even paler than his. Another contraction starts and Taylor vaguely notices the woman take her bags. The man helps her onto the gurney. She's busy trying not to think about all the things that could go wrong during child birth as he loads her into the vehicle. The sterilized smell makes her feel like she's walking into a tiny hospital with wheels. It makes her more nervous. She's never been a huge fan of hospitals.

It's okay, she thinks, trying to calm herself. They're going to help me. I'll be fine. They'll keep me safe.

Taylor doesn't see the strange look the man gives as he shuts the back doors of the ambulance.