Page 5 of Open Net

2

Olli

After calling the hospital and letting them know we were on our way, I drove like I was in the Indie 500. It seemed like every light in the city conspired against me. Every single one turned red as I approached. With each whimper coming from the seat next to me I grew more tempted to run them, but the last thing we needed was to get in an accident. Again.

Emma sucked in a breath and I glanced over in time to see her curled into herself, clutching her belly. With her seat in the reclined position, her blonde hair fanned out over the leather seat. Her normally bright blue eyes were shut tight as she grimaced in pain. This was really happening. I was going to be a dad.

“Almost there, baby.” I tried to use a soothing voice, but I doubted she could hear me. She seemed to be lost in a fog of misery. I hoped she couldn’t sense my own panic. I’d never seen her in so much pain and there was nothing I could do.

I hated seeing her like this, and this was only the beginning. Who knew how long the labor would last? Hours? More than a day? I wasn’t ready for this. No class or book could really prepare me for this reality.

Plus, it was too early. She was only thirty-six weeks along. What if there was something wrong with our baby? What if I caused this? The accident had been too much stress for Emma.

Emma’s breathing relaxed and I checked the time on the dash. That one lasted for fifty seconds. It felt like three eternities to me. I didn’t want to think about how long it felt to Emma.

We were ready for this. We’d been to the classes and talked to our doctor. We knew what to expect, but there was a huge difference between talking about watching your wife go through incredible pain and actually having to witness this miracle while not being able to do anything to make it better.

As someone who was always ready to take charge, save the day, or fix things, I hated feeling so helpless. This was a lot more stressful than I anticipated. I guess you can never be fully ready for the reality of childbirth.

“Hold on, baby. We’re almost there.” I could see the top of the hospital over the houses and sped up. Emma grunted and gripped her belly.

It was really happening. We were about to meet our little one. We’d finally know if it’s a boy or a girl. I reached over and squeezed her hand.

She tightened her grip and cried out.

I eyed my watch as I sucked in a breath but didn’t complain. I’d have to explain to Coach why I was out with a broken hand, but it would be worth it. If crushing my bones brought her even a sliver of relief, she could break every bone in my body. I couldn’t let her see how nervous I was. I had to be the strong one. This was the only thing I was good at. Years in the NHL trained me to stay focused on the task at hand and not let anything distract me. After the game, or in this case, the birth, I could freak out all I wanted.

“I love you, Emma.” She let out a tiny whimper and glanced up at me with glazed eyes.

She relaxed almost a full minute later, just as we were pulling in. I left the car running in front of the labor and delivery entrance and jumped out. I got to her side before she could open the door and lifted her out.

“Mr. Letang.” I turned with Emma in my arms to see a petite nurse pushing a wheelchair. “Hi Mrs. Letang, this way please.”

She was beaming at me like my wife wasn’t currently tearing apart. I helped Emma into the chair then looked around patting my pockets. “Where are my keys?”

The nurse smiled gently. “In the ignition. I’ll take Mrs. Letang in but you’ll have to move the car to the front lot. It’s reserved for those in labor.” Her smile never wavered as she turned the wheelchair around and pushed Emma into the hospital.

I ran to the driver’s side and parked the car in one of the future parent stalls with almost no thought. As I jogged back to the entrance, I sent a text message to Erik telling him we were at the hospital. If he was awake and saw it, he would spread the word. We’d already told the group not to worry about coming to see us before the baby was born, but that was when I thought it was still weeks away. A part of me wanted their support, and I was sure Emma wanted some reassuring voices.

I got to the front desk and was stopped to ask where I could find Emma.

“Hello Mr. Letang,” the nurse said. “We have some paperwork we need you to fill out first.”

It took all of my self-restraint not to glare at the woman sitting plumply in her chair. “We did all of the pre-registration paperwork.”

“There are just a few additional pieces of information we need.” She waved a wristband with her left hand tauntingly.

“Sorry, first time dad.” I took the papers and started walking back to the delivery rooms we were shown on our tour a few weeks ago.

“Mr. Letang, we need those back before you can go in.”

I blew out a breath and turned to her. “Seriously?”

She gave me a sympathetic smile and nodded. “It’s hospital policy.”

I scribbled down everything on the forms in record time and practically threw them back at her.

“Thank you.” She put her hand out expectantly. It took me a second to realize she wanted my hand. Use your words, lady. She snapped the barcoded bracelet and pulled back. “Your wife is in room three.”