5. It's A Boy

HARPER:

[Nine months later]

“Harper!” My boss’s voice rang.

I flinched.

Nine months later and I was just a waitress with a belly the size of a watermelon and trying to make ends meet.

“You are too slow,” he murmured. “Customers are waiting and you are waddling around like...”

Like a whale, the words echoed in my mind even though he hadn’t completed his sentence.

I swallowed hard. “I’ll be faster.”

He sighed.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head. “You are fired.”

I couldn’t breathe. Not now. Before I could even beg, he was already walking away. I had no other choice than to submit my apron and walk out of the restaurant, one foot after the other without looking back.

And then the contraction hit, squeezing my stomach like a fist.

I counted them. Twelve minutes apart. Oh my God. Then ten. Eight.

Not yet, I told myself. Not here. But my body didn’t care about what I wanted. By the time I reached the bus stop, my dress was soaked through.

A woman waiting on the bench looked up, saw my face and jumped up to her feet.

“Are you okay? You…re oh no, your water just broke.”

I looked down to a clear puddle that was spreading beneath me in the cracked concrete.

“No,” I whispered. “No…no…no”

A contraction hit, harder this time than the other. I doubled over, gripping the bench and screamed. The woman caught me before I hit the ground.

*****

Someone pushed me into a wheelchair, pressing a clipboard into my hands. I couldn’t read the words. It looked like they were dancing.

Dr. Ross rushed toward me, her face pale. “You’re not due for three more weeks.”

I gasped, gripping the armrests. “You never paid me my hundred dollars."

Ross laughed.

“Push this baby out," she said, grabbing the back of my wheelchair. “And I'll write you a check."

She pushed me into the cold delivery room.

Machines beeped around me. Dr. Ross stood between my legs, dressing her face to look calm.

“Push.”

“I am pushing.”

“Harder.”

I screamed. The sound tore out of my throat, raw and guttural. Sweat dropped into my eyes. The sheet beneath me was soaked through.

“Again.”

“I can’t…”

“Yes, you can. You’ve survived worse. Now push.”

I thought about Alexander, about the voice note, about the pages he signed without reading. Then, I thought about the baby growing inside me, the only thing in this world that was truly mine.

I pushed.

Time stopped making sense. Minutes or hours, I couldn’t tell. The pain was a living thing, crawling through my veins, stealing my breath.

Then.

“There’s a problem.” I heard Dr. Ross say from far away.

My heart dropped. “What?”

Her face was tight. “The cord is wrapped. We need to move fast.”

“No…”

I heard her footsteps getting closer to me but my eyes were closed. “Harper, look at me.”

I couldn’t. I was shaking too hard.

“Look at me.”

I forced my eyes up. Dr. Ross' warm hands found mine. “You’re not dying today. Okay? You are going to hold your baby in two minutes. But I need you to push one more time. The hardest one yet.”

I nodded. Tears blurred my vision.

“On three. One…two…three…”

I pushed with everything I had left. My vision went white. My ears rang but then, I heard a cry.

So beautiful.

My breath caught. A nurse lifted a small body, red faced, screaming, perfect.

“It’s a boy.” Dr. Ross said, her smile widening.

A boy.

They placed him on my chest. His skin was warm against mine. His tiny fingers curled around nothing.

“Hi,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I’m your mum”

A smile turned up my lips. I’ll never let anyone take you from me.

The door pushed open and there was a nurse standing in the doorway, my brows furrowed, at her back, two more figures in scrubs walked in the hall.

“Doctor, we need you outside.”

Ross looked at me for a moment, hesitating. I wanted her here with me. Why did she need to leave the room?

“No. She stays with me.” I said, but she was already at the door. The door swung shut behind her.

A different nurse approached my bed. She was smiling, I hated the smile.

“Just a small injection,” she said. “It’ll help you rest.”

Rest? I didn’t want to rest. I wanted to hold my baby. I wanted to stay awake. I wanted…

“I don’t…”

The needle pierced my arm before I could finish. I gasped. Something cold spread through my veins and the room tilted.

“Wait…”

My baby was lifted from my arms. I tried to reach for him. My fingers wouldn’t move. I tried to scream. My mouth wouldn’t open.

The last thing I felt was my son’s tiny weight leaving my arms.

Then everything went black.