I go into labor three weeks early, which shouldn’t surprise anyone given my track record. It’s 2 AM when the first contraction wakes me. For a moment, I think it’s just Braxton Hicks-I’ve been having those for weeks. But then the second one hits, stronger, unmistakable. “Kael,” I shake his shoulder. “It’s time.” He’s awake instantly, going from dead asleep to fully alert Alpha mode in seconds, “Are you sure?” “Very sure. And my water just broke, so yeah, we need to go.” What follows is controlled chaos. Kael calls Dr. Vange while simultaneously getting dressed and grabbing our hospital bag. I call Catherine to come stay with Adrian, who’s still asleep and has no idea he’s about to become a big brother tonight instead of three weeks from now. “How far apart are the contractions?” Kael asks, helping me into comfortable clothes. “About five minutes. We have time, but not a lot.” Catherine arrives within fifteen minutes-she must have broken several speed limits. “Go,” she says, kis
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