CHAPTER 40
JOHN
"John!"
I knew something was wrong the moment I heard the fear and the pain in her voice. I dropped the shelf standard next to my toolbox and almost tripped on the laundry basket next to the door of the pink nursery. Stumbling down the stairs two at a time, I found Carly in the hall, tears streaming down her pale face, hands clutching her swollen belly.
"John I think the baby's comin'," she said hysterically.
Panic flooded through me, turning my blood to ice. No, it was way too soon! She was only twenty-five weeks along.
"It's too soon, she's not ready yet... she doesn't even have a name!" Carly cried, voicing my thoughts.
"Okay," I breathed, trying to separate the father from the paramedic. I could do this. "How far apart are the contractions?" I asked her, jumping the last two steps and making my way to her. I led her into the living room and sat her down on the couch.
"I... I don't know... Twenty minutes I think, maybe," she replied as I whipped out my phone and dialed Sally Nesbitt's office to let her know what was going on. She told us to head to the hospital immediately. "John," she pleaded, and the look on her face absolutely destroyed me.
They took us immediately when we arrived into the ER and after a quick examination the doctor sent us straight up to OB/GYN.
Carly was already 3 centimeters dilated.
I won't ever forget the feeling of dread I felt when we were told this. She was dilated, that meant the baby was coming and she was coming fast. From that point on, we were thrown headfirst into a frenzy of tests, needles and scans.
I grabbed onto Carly's hand and held on tight.
It was the longest twelve hours of my life; it was chaos and dead silence, all mixed together, rattling me to the core. The doctors and nurses were in and out throughout the evening and well into the night. They got an IV in Carly's arm and pumped her with steroids to help develop the baby's lungs, as well as Tocolytics to temporarily stop the contractions.
Then we waited.
It was the early hours of March 15 and we were both lying together in her hospital bed, my arms wrapped around her. I didn't know if I was allowed to be lying here with her, but the nurses coming in and out didn't say anything and I didn't ask. Sleep wouldn't come though, not to me and not to her, despite the pain medication in her system.
"Arianna," I whispered in the gloom, the only light source coming from the hallway outside the hospital room.
"It'll remind me too much of Ariana Grande," Carly whispered back.
"I don't know who that is," I admitted.
"She's a pop singer... I don't like her," Carly told me.
She started singing the lyrics to a familiar song I'd heard on the radio a couple times, although I still couldn't place a face to the name. I didn't exactly listen to mainstream music though, so that was my excuse.
"Mm, alright then, we're not havin' a little Ari," I replied.
"What about Madison, or Addison?" Carly asked.
"Addison," I spoke the name, letting it roll off my tongue.
"We could call her Addie," Carly murmured.
YOU ARE READING
Last Turn Home
RomanceCarly Atwood always remembered the man that used to live in the loft above the barn when she was a little girl. John was her childhood crush, he was the guy she wrote about in her diary, and when he left her in his army greens, he was the first man...
