Chapter 25
“Mrs. Wilson…?” A voice queried tentatively. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, Celina,” I said outwardly confident, inwardly scared to death.
What do I do? I panicked. Okay think…think, I told myself sternly.
Having no idea when the second contraction would hit I realized I needed to get to a phone as soon as possible. James would be at the Fowlkes house outside working, but I should be able to reach Elsee.
“Class,” I called over the babble of voices, “I have to go to the office,” I continued once I had their attention. “Carry on with your pie crusts, but don’t use the ovens until I, or another adult, return to supervise you.”
Smiling reassuringly, I left the classroom.
I popped into the room next door and motioned the teacher to come out into the hallway.
“Linda, I have a big favor to ask,” I said hurriedly. “I think I had a contraction about,” I glanced at my watch, “five minutes ago and I was wondering if you could watch my class until I can get to the office and let them know I have to leave. They are just practicing for their final exam.”
“Of course,” she replied immediately. “Do you want me to send someone with you just in case…?”
“No, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I lied valiantly. “It may just be those Braxton-Hicks contractions the doctor told me about; I’m not due for another week.”
“Go,” she commanded, “I have everything here under control.”
I was only half way to the office when the dreaded second contraction hit and I doubled over leaning against the wall, gasping in pain. As the contraction ended, I straightened up and glanced around; the hallways were deserted. Quickly peeking at my watch, I noted it had been about ten minutes since the last one. Hopefully, that meant I had plenty of time to get to the hospital.
Once I got to the office Ann, the school secretary, found an aide to take my classes for the rest of the day. I sank gratefully into the chair by the phone and dialed the Fowlkes’ number.
“Fowlkes’ residence,” I felt relief flood through me at the familiar voice.
“Elsee, I think it’s time,” my voice came out as a whisper.
“Allie?”
“I’ve had two contractions,” I struggled to control my voice. “What do I do?”
“How far apart were they?”
“About ten minutes.”
I was feeling calmer with Elsee in control.
“Where are you?”
“In the main off…” I gasped as another contraction hit me.
I dropped the phone and wrapped my arms around my swollen belly, bent over, trying to breathe through the contraction as I had learned in Lamaze classes. By the time the contraction ended, and I straightened up, the phone was back on the hook.
“Your mother-in-law said to stay here in the office and your husband will arrive shortly to take you to the hospital,” Ann smiled at me reassuringly. “She’s going to call your doctor so all you have to do is relax and breathe.”
“Thanks, Ann,” I tried to return the smile, but I was so scared it was more of a grimace.
Two contractions later, James came hurrying through the door with such a look of alarm on his face that I contrarily felt better.
“Are you alright?” he asked anxiously.
“I’m fine,” I tried to reassure him as he helped me out of the chair. “But I think our little bundle of joy is going to make his appearance a lot sooner than we expected.”
James had parked illegally in front of the office, nothing mattering to him but to get to me as soon as humanly possible, and he was still wearing his old work clothes, and I could smell dirt, grass, and sweat mixed on him, but I had never in my life been so glad for the familiar odor.
Thankfully, we made it to the car before I had another contraction. I had barely fallen into the seat when it hit. James was dumbstruck, unable to utter a word as he watched helplessly until the contraction ended.
“Allison!” was all he could get out.
“I’m fine,” I repeated “Just drive.”
Shutting my door swiftly he scrambled around the car to the driver’s side. I knew as soon as he pulled out of the parking lot that I would have to calm him down if I planned to arrive at the hospital in one piece. He was driving too fast and watching me more than the road…not a good combination.
“James,” I said mildly “I’m not wearing a seatbelt and I would like to avoid having a wreck if possible.”
“What?” he asked, dazedly.
“I would appreciate it if you would slow down and watch where you’re going instead of watching me,” I rephrased.
“Oh, sorry,” he eased up on the accelerator slightly and turned back to watch the road, still driving well over the speed limit.
I sighed in resignation and tried to relax as another contraction hit. I had forgotten to check the time the previous one had ended but it seemed to me they were coming a little closer together. Apparently, James thought so also because he sped up again, panic clearly etched on his face.
By the time we reached the hospital, James was a nervous wreck and my contractions were only six minutes apart.
I was never as thankful to see a doctor before in my life as I was at that moment. Compared to my panic-stricken husband, he was so calm and matter-of fact that I immediately relaxed.
Poor James had no idea what to do. All the Lamaze training we had received had flown clear out of his head with the first contraction he had witnessed and he was absolutely no help at all. He begged me to get an epidural, but I refused. I was handling the pain, not well, but still…
I tried to keep a grip on myself and breathe through them as best I could, but the pain was worse than anything I had ever experienced in my life. I began to wonder just how long I was going to be able to handle it. Although it was similar to the cramps I had occasionally experienced during my teenaged years, it was multiplied a thousand fold.
If I make it through this I’ll never complain about cramps again, I vowed to myself.
The closer together the contractions got, the more blurred time became. I was simply trying to survive each one, desperately trying to recover in between them. James was sweating almost as much as I was, speechless in agony, allowing me to squeeze the life out of his hand with each contraction. During my more coherent pain-free moments, I could tell he wished it was him instead of me writhing in pain every few minutes.
I had to agree; I wished it were him, too.
After what seemed like days but was probably only hours, the doctor finally allowed me to push, which was a relief. Once I heard the doctor say the head was crowning, the rest passed quickly compared to all of the events of the previous hours. Before I realized I was done, he was jovially saying “It’s a boy” and James was holding the baby looking stunned. I held him for a few minutes before James took him to another room to show him off through the window to the people he said were waiting to see him.
An attendant wheeled me to a room where James and the baby eventually joined me.
“He scored a ten out of ten,” James announced excitedly.
“He’s already as competitive as his father,” I teased gently. “Um…mind if I hold him?”
“Sorry,” James said ruefully, handing the baby to me carefully. “I just can’t seem to make myself put him down. He’s so little, I think he needs me. He’s just a baby, you know.”
I moved over a bit and invited James to sit next to me. Elsee found us oohing and aahing over our amazingly tiny creation when she entered the room.
“Hello, Granny,” James grinned at her. “Isn’t he something?”
“He is indeed something, but I am not Granny,” she reproached him. “That makes me sound old and decrepit.”
“I’m sure we’ll figure out something for him to call you,” I said soothingly, offering her the baby to hold.
“So what have you
decided to name him?” Elsee asked, lovingly gazing down at the sweet face.
“Marcus James Wilson,” I said firmly.
“Marcus?” Elsee asked with a catch in her throat.
“Is that okay?” I queried softly.
She nodded, “But I think we should call him Mark, if you don’t mind,” she qualified, bending down to kiss the baby on the forehead.
“I think that’s an excellent idea,” I agreed readily, relieved that she had no objections to our naming him after her late husband.
“Mark it is, then,” James made the decision unanimous. “I have a son,” he still sounded amazed by the revelation. “I’ll teach him everything. How to throw and catch and…”
“Hold it right there, mister,” I stopped him mid-sentence. “My son will not be playing football,” I glared at him through narrowed eyes, my maternal instincts kicking in with a vengeance, the lioness protecting her cub.
“Allison…” he began.
“I absolutely refuse to live through all the injuries I saw on you all over again,” I said doggedly “wondering if the next injury might be…” I swallowed hard, unable to finish.
“Since Mark isn’t even a day old,” Elsee interjected reasonably, “I think we should wait until he’s old enough to decide for himself. There is plenty of time for all of that. The main thing is that you both want Mark to grow up happy and healthy, so whatever path he chooses I want you to promise him right here and now to support him…always…even if his chosen path isn’t the one you would choose for him.”
James and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“I guess we can wait until he’s old enough to participate in our rather heated debate about his future as an athlete,” James said agreeably.
“Allie…?” Elsee prompted.
“I promise,” I said reluctantly. “I’ll support whatever our son wants to do with his life.”
“Good,” Elsee said approvingly. “Now kiss and make up. Mommy and Daddy shouldn’t argue in front of the children.”
“Yes ma’am,” James said obediently.
I lifted my face up for his kiss, smiling.
“I love you,” I said softly.
“I love you,” he echoed, kissing me tenderly “Always.”