Labour.

Labour.

The next few days are hectic. First, I discover that Kathy has Chronic heart transplant rejection. It's baffling and depressing at the same time. I really didn't think all this was going to happen at a time like this.
After her one year check up we were all happy and we all assumed that she was in the clear but now the doctor diagnosed her with a bunch of other stuff that schedules her for a open heart surgery since her case is serious.

I wonder if it's because I neglected Kathy, is that why everything is happening?

Lord are you punishing me? I think as I watch Cathy's slender frame connected to all the beeping machines. She has lost so much weight since she was admitted that it is still unbelievably shocking to look at her thin pale face and think it's Kathy.

After my parents' death, I became Kathy's legal guardian. She is entrusted to me and when her heart problems started, I did everything to get money for her surgery.

Everything.

And after the surgery, I ensured she was taking her drugs, going for her checkups. Where the hell did it all fucking go wrong? I think as I watch Kathy sleeping, hooked up to all the machines.

We are waiting for her surgeon's assessment so she can be prepped up for open heart surgery.

Me and Grandma Marcella have barely had time to rest taking turns watching over her. Even Ross has become a constant fixture in her hospital room.

My eyes are tired and my back aches but all I want to do is wait for Kathy to wake up and give her a kiss before her surgery.

I really hope everything is going to be fine. I don't care if she needs a new heart transplant, I will do whatever I need to do to keep her alive.

"Why don't you go home and change? You look tired."

Ross asks as he nudges me quietly.

"I'm waiting for Kathy's surgeon." I murmur as I rub my sleep filled eyes. I didn't sleep a wink last night, Kathy was breathing so badly even though she tried to stay awake. They had to sedate her after giving her drugs.

"I spoke to the CMD. He won't be here for another two hours. He's coming from another city. Just go home and take a little nap. I'll drop you off, I have to drop by at the station and give a report."

I know Ross has been putting off so many things in the last few days just so he can be next to me while we watch Kathy and it's taking a toll on him since we have a lot to deal with but he insists that it's fine.

"Everything okay?" I look up at him.

He shrugs casually.

"Just a few things I need to do. Statements to make and all."

"Okay."

I plant a kiss on Kathy's forehead as I push strands of her hair away from her sweet sleeping face. She looks so thin and tired that it breaks my heart.




Ross drops me back at his place and I crawl back in to the bed for a short nap.
I wake up from sleep with a stabbing pain to my abdomen.

When the hell did I fall asleep I think as I look around and find the bed wet.
Disoriented, I look for Ross but then I remember he's at the police station.

I start to panic. The wetness in the bed, the cramps can only mean one thing, but the babies can't come yet.

They aren't due for about seven more weeks.

Sucking in huge gulps of air, I manage to make it to the hallway but the house is empty. Guzman must be around somewhere.

I waddle back to the bedroom looking for my new phone. I need to call Ross. I clench my teeth and wince. This can't be real labour, but it's futile. I can't try and convince myself when it feels like nails are being drilled into my belly.

The babies are coming and I am unprepared. I haven't even packed a bag yet I think as I stand in the room in my wet clothes without a clue on what to do next.

I should at least pack a bag. What the hell did they say should be in it?

I stopped attending birth classes and signed up for the one online but I haven't done that much.

There isn't a sensible, useful thought in my head.

I already feel inadequate as a mother.

As a second pain takes me, I slowly walk towards the room, I should at least pack a bag I think as I find a large carry-on bag in Ross's closet.

I start to throw in random things. Maternity bras, a dress or two, a Nikon camera I got for the baby shower, Ross's shampoo and a toothbrush I'm not sure who it belongs to. My hairbrush that's lying around on the bedside table.

Next, I wheel the suitcase to the nursery. Damn it! I thought as I glare at the incomplete nursery. We are really unprepared. We haven't even finished buying all the baby stuff yet.

I ransack the closet and get out diapers, baby socks, jumpsuits, head warmers, onesies, pacifiers and a bunch of other random stuff.

Some of which were gotten from the baby shower.

I have no idea if I'm going to need all the things I'm packing as I stare into the suitcase piled high with clothes, teddy bears and what nots.

What am I going to wear?

The thought crosses my head as I stare at my wet sticky clothes.

I need a shower. I take a very quick shower. I try to shave my legs and privates in the shower but the pain hit me so hard I decide that I don't care if I have hair under there or on my legs.

I am in freaking labour!

I manage to get into a loose yoga pants and a shirt that I'm sure is most likely Ross's.

I tie my hair at a bun at the top of my hair and I'm busy looking for my phone when there's a persistent knock on the door.

It must be Guzman. He's the only one that knocks like that, like he's impatient or something.

"It's Guzman!" He calls out.

"Come in!"

He opens the door slightly and peeps in.

"Is everything okay? I heard some noise."

"No it's not. I'm in labour." I reply as calmly as I can so as not to freak him out.

Guzman looks mortified.

He walks in quickly.

"What do you need me to do?"

"Well, there's a bag in the nursery. Please take it to the car. And please call Ross. I can't seem to find my phone."

As soon as Guzman leaves I sit on the bed wondering where the hell my phone is.

What am I going to do now?

Shouldn't you be timing the contractions?

My brain replies and I face palm myself. That's the first thing I should have done!

So I'd be able to know how close I am to giving birth.

Shit!

This is going to be a disaster.