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“Pippa! Pippa,” I shout, flapping my arms nervously.
She practically barrels into my room. “What? What’s wrong?”
“My water just broke.”
19
LIZZIE
“Your what? How? Why? It’s too soon!” Pippa shouts, her eyes practically bulging from their sockets.
“I know it’s too soon.”
Breathe.
Calm down.
Breathe.
“What do we do?” Pippa spears her hands through her hair as she paces in front of me.
“I don’t know,” I cry out, trying not to panic.
“Hospital!” Without warning, she yanks the blankets off me. “We need to get you to the hospital right away. Come on.”
The first contraction hits as I finish changing into clean clothes. It starts at my back and wraps around my stomach, nearly knocking me on my ass.
“Oh, dear God,” I exclaim, gritting my teeth. Forcing myself to remember the birthing classes I’ve taken, I breathe in through my nose and slowly exhale through my mouth, working through the contraction until the pain fades. “All right, okay. That wasn’t so bad. One foot in front of the other. Gotta get to the hospital.”
Pippa returns with my coat, helping me into it. “You all right?”
“Nope. Just had a contraction. So, this is really happening. Oh, Jesus.”
“Just remember your classes. Keep taking deep breaths.” She takes me by the hand and leads me through the apartment. My bags are already waiting by the door, as is Mrs. Loughty.
“I’ve called a car,” she informs us, taking my hand from Pippa so my roommate can grab my bags. “It should be here by the time we get downstairs.”
“But I can’t afford?—”
“Shush now! It’s all been taken care of. My dear, don’t think about any of that. Just think of the new little bundle of joy you’re going to be welcoming into this world.”
Considering what my body is going through, it’s extremely easy to take her advice. Another contraction hits when we are in the lobby, making me stop dead in my tracks and groan in pain. Mrs. Loughty talks me through it while Pippa continues downstairs with my bags. A few doors open as our neighbors nosily try to see what is happening in the hall.
“Oh, shoo.” Mrs. Loughty waves them off. “Nothing to see here. Mind your own business.” Her untypical sharp tone is enough to scare them away.
“Mrs. Loughty, I’m scared,” I tell her, near tears. “I’m not ready yet. The baby isn’t supposed to come for another few weeks.”
At that, she chuckles. “The first rule of being a parent, my dear, is to always expect the unexpected. Things hardly ever go according to plan, as you’ve probably realized by now. But I know you’re more than capable of handling whatever comes your way.”
Pippa returns to help me to the cab, and I give Mrs. L one quick hug and a “Thank you,” before heading outside.
The cabbie has already been informed of the situation, so as soon as Pippa and I are buckled into the backseat, he speeds off toward the hospital.
I clutch Pippa’s hand in a death grip, squeezing when the next contraction racks my body with pain. “Oh, God, this is horrible. Terrible. Why does no one warn you how bad these are?” I demand through gritted teeth.
“Because if they did, no one would go through it,” Pippa says, rubbing my lower back to try to work out the tension. “The human race would die out.”
I grumble under my breath, relaxing against the seat as the pain subsides. “Yeah, probably.”
