Page 212 of The Catalyst

This has been going on for the past hour, and I’m ready to rip Oliver’s balls off to keep him from putting me through this again. All men should be castrated. To hell with the continuation of our species. Nothing is worse than this!

“Just breathe,” the reason I’m in this mess mutters, and I shoot daggers at him with my eyes. If he makes me any madder, I swear, I’ll conjure up laser beams.

“I’m already mad enough as it is at you. Don’t push your luck,” I growl.

Vera snaps. “Keep walking, child. It will help move things along.” She thought it was a good idea to direct my labor while I already have a horrible temper when I’mnotin incredible pain. Not to mention, she brought coffee, and the smell was enough to make me want to barf.

“What did I do?” Oliver asks quickly as I pace around the birthing pool.

It’s not supposed to help with the pain, but it helps my body prepare for the main event and forces it to hurry up. At least, that’s what Vera said.

“You’re the reason she’s about to go through the most unimaginable pain a person could possibly go through, pain worse than death, behemoth,” Vera answers.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” Judy questions, concern on her face.

“No hospital,” I groan as I dig my nails into my spine, the tension in the muscles making me nauseous. “Hospitals charge health insurance companies. I bet Nolan is monitoring my insurance at this point. That’s why I went with a doula instead of an obstetrician. No doctors. No hospital. No pain medicine. I have to do this naturally.”

“Brave girl,” Vera mutters as I continue pacing around the birthing tub.

“It’s only going to last a few hours anyway, right?” I laugh as the contraction eases, and I stop walking to relax my knees, but Vera just stares at me with a blank expression. “What?” I pant from my pain receptors going haywire. I swear I’m going to have a heart attack before this is over. Sweat trickles between my breasts and down my stomach.

“Who told you such a foolish thing?” she presses.

Ollie’s gaze bounces between whoever is talking, but he doesn’t add anything to the conversation, just stays up to date.

“Um, my mom. She had me in two hours. My grandmother had her in thirty minutes.”

“Did they specify if this was duringactivelabor?”

Active labor?

“What?” What is the fucking difference between labor and active labor?

“Active labor is when you’re actually trying to push the little angel out of your cooch.”

My eyes widen at her explanation. “How long am I supposed to do this?” I motion to my stomach, panic filling me. It can’t be that bad, right?

“Since your water broke? You’ve got twelve hours.” Vera shrugs nonchalantly.

“Twelve…HOURS?!” I scream in frustration and ball up my fists.

“Easy, Bee. Remember your blood pressure,” Judy eases.

“Oh, screw my blood pressure! I’m going to end up clawing this kid out of my vagina before the night is over.”

“Someone light up a little baby bhang. It’ll calm her and help with the pain.”

Judy and I look at Vera like she grew another head, but Oliver jumps out of his seat and urgently runs back to our room.

“Baby bhang?”

“Mary Jane,” Vera explains with a rare smile. “You’re not going to the hospital, so there’s no chance of a drug test. It does great for babies whose mothers smoke during the pregnancy. I smoked my entire pregnancy, and my son is a certified genius. It won’t take the pain completely away, but it will help.”

Oliver walks out of our bedroom, carrying a glass jar full of bud and a smile across his face. “Time to blow down, baby.”

* * *

“AHHH!!!”The scream barrels through my lips as I cling to Oliver, his arms holding me up. He’s my constant in the absolute hell I’m existing in. His scent guides me through the darkness as he keeps one arm around my waist and the other hand cradles the back of my head. “I can’t do this!” I sob as the contraction ends, and tears run down my face like a waterfall, like the one a few hundred yards south of here.

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