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Luckily, she’d resisted the urge. And maybe, once she was feeling a little stronger, these contractions would die down. Go away.
‘So, I was making tea,’ Seth said now. ‘Would you still like a cup?’
Polly nodded. ‘Yes, please. Just milk, no sugar.’ She told herself that she was exaggerating the strength of these pains, no doubt because she didn’t want to have her baby a month early and she knew how horribly inconvenient it would be to go into labour now. A nice, calming cup of tea might be just what she needed and everything would settle down again.
As she eased onto the stool, however, another pain started. ‘Oh!’ She couldn’t help crying out. This pain was sharp and low. And fierce. And then it went on and on, tightening and tugging. Oh, help. She had a terrible feeling this was not Braxton Hicks.
‘Polly.’ Seth had abandoned the kettle and was beside her again. His brow was furrowed, his dark eyes concerned. ‘You’re not okay, are you?’
‘I think I will be,’ she said, mentally crossing her fingers.
‘Yeah—once your baby’s born.’
She shook her head. She wasn’t ready to have the baby. Certainly not today. ‘No, Seth. This will settle down. I still have a whole month to go and it’s a first baby. From what I’ve read, eighty-one per cent of first babies aren’t born until after the due date.’
‘Eighty-one per cent, huh?’ His smile was decidedly crooked. ‘Maybe Summer’s a nonconformist.’
Polly was certainly feeling very strangely uncomfortable and Seth had been right about perching on the stool. It wasn’t a good idea.
‘I’m going to take you back into town,’ he said. ‘I reckon you need to see Doc Bronson.’
Before Polly could answer this, she was hit by another contraction, so fierce and uncomfortable that she couldn’t possibly remain on the stool. But as she got to her feet, she felt a gush of water between her legs.
‘Oh, God,’ she whimpered.
Seth’s face was white. ‘I’m calling Doc Bronson.’
Chapter Five
This couldn’t beproper labour already. Polly knew it had to be a mistake. She couldn’t do this. Not today. Not to her baby. Not to Seth.
Leaning with her back against his kitchen wall for support, she closed her eyes and drew a deep, slow breath, praying for calm and trying to relax, willing her body to stop this crazy clenching. She took another deeper breath.
Come on, Polly, you can calm this down. You can stop it.
Except that she couldn’t. Halfway through her next deep breath, a new contraction arrived, stronger and fiercer than any of the previous ones.
Oh, crap. This felt horribly, scarily real.
It wasn’t going to stop, was it?
Seth, I’m so sorry.
Polly would have told Seth this, but he was busy talking on his phone. And then, as soon as he disconnected, Polly was too busy dealing with yet another contraction. Cripes. She was sure they weren’t supposed to come so close together, but she realised she actually knew very little about having a baby.
Sure, she’d been to the classes, she’d practised the breathing and she’d read the books, but somehow, she’d never pictured anything quite like this. Nothing so crazily fast, and certainly not happening out in the bush where she wasn’t within cooee of a nice, reassuring midwife.
It was the very worst moment to think again about her mum.
‘Polly.’
She was on the brink of tears when she felt Seth’s arm around her shoulders, warm, strong and supportive.
‘I’ve called the ambulance,’ he said.
‘Thanks. And they’ll take us to your doctor?’
‘Either the doctor, or the base hospital. I couldn’t actually speak to Doc Bronson. He was tied up with a patient, in the middle of some procedure. His receptionist spoke to him, though, and he said we’d best get you to the base if we can.’
