Page 30 of For Her

“For hell’s sake, you can have coffee, Mayzie,” she informs me. “There’s no reason for you to go without a cup a day.”

What?

“I drank coffee every day when I was pregnant. Look what I do for a living! I had to! Sometimes I even had a second cup in the afternoon,” she assures me, her demeanor softening a little, probably sympathetic to my prolonged caffeine withdrawal. “Come on, there’s a coffee cart before the sky bridge. Let’s get you a latte and I’ll show you the birthing center.”

“Woohoo!” I cheer, leading the charge out of this fresh hell.

Jack

Funny how when someone goes months without coffee and they finally drink it again for the first time… Mayzie can now add hyper-as-fuck to her pregnancy personality repertoire. The good news is I think she’s sold on the idea of the birthing center being the happy medium between a hospital and home birth - if her zipping around the luxurious birthing suite with excitement is any indication.

With its clean and minimal décor in light colors, the place is pretty and homey but still gives off a professional vibe, which I like. I love the idea of birth at home as much as Mayzie does, but as the one not actually carrying the baby, I can’t help but worry about preparing for what could go wrong in the process. Like what if the baby got stuck? I can’t think of how we’d deal with that at home other than we’d be fucked. I’d have to call the paramedics after panicking with my hands on my head for at least six or seven minutes, which would cause a media circus around our home. You know… shit likethat.

Anyway, this place might be just the right compromise with all the comforts that Mayzie is looking for, but with the hospital and professionals right nearby if needed. And I’m thinking Mayzie likes the new prospect of a water birth, seeing as how she’s currently sitting in the empty spa tub while she enjoys her latte. She slows her roll and listens intently as Sarah explains the pros and cons of a water birth, the only real con being that she can’t have an epidural if she’s in the tub. While I hate the idea of seeing her in pain, I know Mayzie can do anything. Now it’s just a matter of me having the strength to support her through it without passing out.

The more information Sarah gives, the more Mayzie’s face lights up and relaxes. This is what she wants.

“Well, you look happy,” I muse as I squat down by the tub and fold my arms on the edge and she nods at me.

“I have a deep feeling that this is the way to go,” she looks around the tub she’s still sitting in, holding her arm out. “It just feels very… me. I don’t know,” she shrugs, clearly not sure how to convey her feelings about it in words.

“I can see it, Sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” her eyebrows go up with her smile, relieved that I understand her anyway.

“Yeah.”

Twelve

Jack

“Iknow what you’re up to,” Mayzie regards me with a knowing glare as she hoists her bag up on her shoulder.

“What?” I ask innocently with my arms out. “I just want my beautiful pregnant wife that’s growing our baby inside of her to get some well-deserved pampering.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she nods as she adjusts the stretchy black tank dress that shows all her curves. “On today of all days.”

“Today?” I shrug. “What about today? I asked for the next available day they could take you and the girls, and today was when they had an opening.”I rest my hands on my hips as she struts up to me.

“You’re going to watch the interview, aren’t you?” she deadpans, because she’s too damn smart.

“No!” I answer incredulously. “Matt and I are just going to work on that project I was telling you about, and we’ll probably invite Ben to help out, too.”

And watch the interview.

And drink healthy amounts of scotch.

Maybe we’ll hang a heavy bag in the living room so that no one puts their fist through my flatscreen where Eli’s stupid douchey face will be.

“Okay!” she grins widely when she stops in front of me, sending me her signal that she’s not buying my shit and we both know it. Whatever. I’m keeping it up. “You guys have fun,” she says as I kiss her cheek, “watching the interview,” she adds under her breath as she opens the front door.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I call after her as she strides to the waiting SUV.“I’ll see you tomorrow, Meatball! I love you!”

Mayzie

“Gee, I’m getting such a buzz from this,” I say, with a steaming pile of sarcasm as I sip my mommy mock-tail mimosa.

“I told you to pretend the 7-Up is champagne so that you could have a placebo,” Sarah chides. “You’re not imagining hard enough,” she points her champagne flute at me before tipping it back towards herself. “Look at me,” she tries to make a point, spreading her arms wide so the rest of us take in her relaxed and cheerful disposition in her fluffy white, spa-issued robe that the rest of us are donning as well. “No alcohol, but totally goofy-happy with myI-don’t-give-a-fuckon my sleeve!”

---