Page 45 of Dangerously Deceptive

“I know they say first babies nearly always come after their due date, and I definitely don’t want to have this baby yet, but I really don’t want to experience these pains anymore,” she pouts, and I can’t help but chuckle at her adorable face.

Pinching her cheeks slightly to get her to stop sulking, she joins me in a little giggle. “Gummy bear will come when it’s ready. Even if it comes today, that’s okay, babe. We are ready,” I reassure her, but as her eyes widen it’s clear I’ve had the completely opposite effect. We decided to be surprised about if it’s a boy or a girl, and I have to confess, I’m sick of waiting. I hope the baby is coming today, but I’m hardly going to say that to Shay right now.

“NO! No, Kellan. I am not having this baby now. I have at least eleven more days, I have to have a bit longer. I’m not ready yet,” she sobs, and just as I’m about to console her, a contraction rips through her again.

I hold her, massaging her back, looking at the clock on the wall. It’s definitely four minutes apart and lasting for around a minute. If this carries on for much longer, at this intensity, all the books say hospital time. Which means I could be running out of time to tell her this.

“Shay, I know you are not ready, and I know the idea of giving birth scares you. But I am ready to meet our little gummy bear and I know you are too. I hear you talking to it all the time, giving it all the advice in the world. You already love this baby so much that it will only get stronger when you hold gummy bear in your arms. I know this is scary for you, Shay, but you have battled so much to get here. I haven’t exactly been great, and I know you deserve someone a million times better than me. Someone who can give you hearts and flowers, and offer you the world. I can’t do that, I don’t know how to do that. All I've ever been able to give you is one day at a time, which has led us to this day, right now. So, when I say this, Shay, know that I don’t say it lightly. I love you. You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. You have overcome the most horrific upbringing, and yet here you are, a survivor. Our love, and the love we have for our bear is all we will ever need. I know you will make an amazing mum. Don’t ever be afraid of that.”

Just as I finish speaking another painful contraction squeezes her body and her cries ring louder this time, combined with the tears flowing down her cheeks from when I was talking. Fuck, did I make her cry?

“You love me?” she gasps, while trying to catch her breath and motioning for me to continue rubbing her back, which I happily do, loving the little moans she makes when I get the right spot.

“Yes, Shayla. I really do love you. I have for a while, but I’ve been waiting for the right moment to tell you. I wanted to be absolutely sure you believed me. I knew if I said it after gummy bear arrives you would think I was only saying it because of your baby producing. Which is why I’m saying it now. I’m sure I will love you even more after you have this baby too,” I explained before leaning in and gently kissing her, whilst using my free hand to wipe away the tears.

“You know I love you, too. I’m sure in the future there will be times when you think that’s not true, that it was all a lie, that I never meant any of it, but I did. I do. I always have from the first time we met. You are literally the nicest guy I have ever met and I’m lucky to have met you. I know you won’t feel the same way about me, but I can’t change that. All I can do is know that my baby is going to have the best daddy in the—ARGH!” she yelled, not able to finish her ramblings.

I tried to keep up with what she was saying but it was utter nonsense, and as her most painful contraction to date had her screaming out whilst grabbing onto me for dear life, I passed it off as painful mutterings. I’ve heard women can incoherently babble when in labour, and Shayla is obviously one of those people. It sounded like she was back to focusing on all things negative, which I want to ignore anyway. The only way to prove to her that she will be okay, is once the labour is over and she is still alive. So, I let it go and just hold her, doing whatever she tells me to.

The next contraction seems to come even quicker, she doesn’t even have a chance to catch her breath and speak in between before the next one starts to build. I can feel her tummy pressed against mine turning hard as her skin seems to tighten, it’s the weirdest sensation. Or at least I thought it was until it got the crown knocked straight off its head. At the peak of her contraction, Shayla seems to growl almost as she shouts out, and I feel a warm feeling spread across my legs. She must feel it too, and as we both look down we realise her water has popped.

After that I spring into action pretty quickly, calling the hospital for advice. Shayla talks to the midwife for a bit while I quickly get changed, throwing those sweatpants straight in the bin. There's no way I will be able to wear them ever again, no matter how many times I wash them, I will always know they are tainted. Once Shayla is off the phone, she asks me to run her a bath, apparently the midwife thinks this will help her to relax. But if the contractions keep coming at the rate they are, or Shayla struggles to cope, or she wants to push, then apparently I have to ring back.

I have to admit, never in my life have I felt so helpless. There is literally nothing I can do that will help take this pain away from Shayla. We may have read all the books, and watched far too fucking many birthing videos, but I can honestly say I was not prepared for this. The helplessness, the pain of seeing someone you love in pain, and the fear that if something goes wrong I could lose my entire world in an instant. So I do as I’m told, I listen to Shayla, I count every contraction, and I follow all the advice the midwife gave us because that's all I can do. All I can do is let Shayla’s body lead, and the rest of us follow.

It’s only around half an hour after getting in the bath, that a very exhausted-looking Shayla asks me to call the hospital again. With the phone on speaker, I help Shayla out of the bath in between contractions that are now about three minutes apart. I pull a long dress over her head, as the midwife tells us where to go in the hospital.

“Want me to help put your panties on before we go?” I ask, looking down at the towels she has wrapped around her legs currently.

“No fucking point. My waters keep leaking, and I’m only going to have to take them off when I get there. Too much effort. Let’s go,” she groans, and we only get a few steps before she clutches onto the wall and seems to squat down from the pain.

“I never thought there would be a time where knowing you were going out without any panties on wouldn’t be sexy,” I joke, and when Shayla flashes me the most deadly glare, I can’t help but laugh.

“Stop cracking jokes and get me into the fucking car before another one of these bastards comes along,” she shouts, and I pick up all the bags in one hand, and take hold of her arm in the other.

We literally look like we are going on holiday for a month with the amount of bags we have. But seriously, babies come with so much shit, I never really realised until I was responsible for learning how to pack the birthing bag. I must have failed the test four times, getting it right finally on the fifth attempt.

Luckily, we manage to get into the car before the next contraction hits. I turn to try to help Shay in some way, but she tells me she has it and just to drive. She can’t get comfortable, and is shuffling around on the seat, but luckily the drive is only around fifteen minutes away. Still that is five more contractions than I would have liked to experience in my car, and I try not to think about the bodily fluids that are currently dripping onto my very expensive seats.

We make it to the hospital, and the midwives take one look at Shayla who is clutching the wall, squatting and growling as the contraction hits, and they rush her into the room. As the midwife is getting ready to examine her, I ask if there’s anything she needs. Her reply breaks my heart in an instant.

“Please ring Jamieson. He needs to know I'm here.”

We had been having this discussion for weeks. I didn’t care that she still meets up with him for coffee. I didn’t say a word when she invited him over for pizza with us one night. I didn’t even care when she wanted him legally registered as our baby’s godfather. I want her to have a friend, and I’m happy that he looks after her. But I do not want him here during our special moment. She must see the hurt and angry look on my face because when her next contraction ends, she explains, “I don’t want him to come here, but he needs to know I’m having the baby. Please,” she asks as her next contraction takes hold.

Begrudgingly, I send him a quick text.

Kellan: Shayla in hospital having the baby. Will text when all over.

I did my part,and she couldn’t argue that. In fact, she didn't. I get a smile from her and a thank-you before the midwife begins her examination. She clutches my hand, praying to be in labour because if this is false labour, she isn’t going to survive the real thing. The midwife just chuckles and the death stare Shayla gives her is enough to let the midwife know there’s a time for laughing, and it’s not when she has her hand in my girlfriend's vagina.

I don’t know what’s weirder about that sentence. I think the fact that I’m more thrown by thinking of Shayla as my girlfriend than the rest of it is the weird bit. I mean, she’s giving birth to my child. Calling her my girlfriend almost seems like it’s not enough.

“Congratulations, Shayla. You are fully dilated. You are ready to push. I want you just to listen to your body, and do whatever it tells you to. You push when it tells you to,” the midwife says, with a smile that’s as big as mine.

“Can I have some pain relief now then?” Shayla asks, but before the midwife has a chance to answer, a contraction hits and Shayla’s cries of pain fill the room. I’m not even going to bother moaning about how much my hand hurts from her squeezing it.

“I’m sorry, Shayla, but it’s too late for pain relief. The only thing that will get rid of this pain now is for you to give birth to your baby. So, when the next contraction comes, I want you to push down into your bottom as hard as you can, okay?” Shayla nods and thankfully releases my hand for a second while she reaches over to grab hold of the water next to her. The midwife moves me out of the way so she can get in and listen to my baby’s heart rate. I take the opportunity to send Liam a quick message. He’s in London getting prepped for a job, but I know he will want to fly home.

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