It Started With a Cake

Ch27. Birth

The next couple of hours consist of us gathering the last minute things we need to add to our hospital bags, Peeta makes me eat some food and tries to get me to relax as he prepares all of the last minute stuff, though he doesn't really get through on that one with my mother telling us the more I move around the quicker I will progress, something I am eager to do.

The supposed contractions I realise are slowly becoming closer together and possibly even more painful.

It's not unbearable just yet but I'd be lying if I said it was easy.

During our final preparation at home we seem to fall into a pattern, sometimes in the off time between contractions I walk around, stopping when I feel another one coming and leaning over to breathe through it. And other times I'm resting, allowing any moments of peace I can.

No matter what I'm doing though my mother and Peeta remain the same, my mother watching me intently through it, counting the time between each and the duration of each. And Peeta while he runs around in a frantic panic he always drops everything he is doing as soon as he notices me in pain, supporting me through the contractions each and every time.

He gives me massages, reminds me to breathe and lets me squeeze his hand as the pain gets worse.

Finally my mother says the words that I've been waiting to hear for days. "I think it's time to go to the hospital" she says calmly, as I finish off my latest contraction this one seemingly the most painful so far, which I have no doubt it probably was.

Both of them help me with the last steps in the process of getting out the door, tying my shoes onto my feet, heaving bags over their shoulders and taking either of my arms to help me walk.

We have to stop several times but after about a twenty minute walk we make it to the hospital, my contractions progressing to about five minutes apart and lasting about thirty seconds each.

My mother explains this to the receptionist as we arrive, Peeta helping me through yet another contraction while we wait for further instructions.

We're told to wait in the waiting area while they prepare a room for us, I can tell Peeta isn't happy about this but he obliges, helping me over to one of the comfier chairs.

He breathes me through another two contractions while we wait and by the time they are over, so probably about ten minutes later a nurse appears in front of us. She instructs us to follow her and after travelling through the winding hospital we arrive at a room.

It's rather spacious I notice almost immediately, my eyes are drawn to the hospital bed in the centre of the room, then to a couch on the far wall, then finally to a bassinet surrounded by a bunch of medical looking equipment.

It's then that it hits me like a tonne of bricks; this is actually happening. In a few days I will be wholly responsible for a baby. I am going to be the one thing I swore I'd never be; a mother.

The nurse doesn't seem to notice my disconnect as she runs us through instructions, but it appears Peeta does and the very moment the nurse leaves us alone he is pouncing on me with questions.

"Are you okay?" Is the first thing he asks me, the concern knitting his eyebrows together.

I brush it off with a laugh, "there's a baby trying to burst through my pelvis, but sure"

He doesn't seem convinced, but he let's it go for the moment which I'm thankful for, I don't think I could explain to him all of the worries that suddenly cloud my vision when I can't even really explain them to myself.

The first thing I do is get changed into the hospital gown the nurse told me to get dressed in. With some help from Peeta I get it tied onto me, lying down on the bed once it's done.