I made it halfway through breakfast before the labor pains started. Like, knowing I was due at any second, it was still so sudden. No warning signal. No heads up. One minute I was fine and eating omelets with Ali and the next I was screaming because I felt like I’d been stabbed in the gut. I don’t blame him for freaking out. I would too if I heard someone scream like that.
Shiloh freaked out in her own way. She whimpered and stepped sheepishly toward me with her ears down and tail between her legs. I tried my best to reassure her I was ok, but I wasn’t very convincing, gripping my belly and breathing rapidly. I tried the technique I saw in a video from the forums. I guess it worked. Or maybe that was a brief contraction. Either way, I was able to regain control and comfort Shiloh.
Mommy must have heard me all the way upstairs. In Amina Pope fashion, she was calm and told me everything was fine. “Nothing will happen for a while, so you can either get comfortable here or go to the hospital and wait.”
I trust my mother with everything I have, but she’s no doctor. We could watch a movie or something, but I’d feel more comfortable already being where I need to be.
“I’M GONNA PUT ON A SHIRT,” Ali yelled as he bolted out of the kitchen.
Mommy laughed “Pants too, dear!”
