Page 32 of Remember Me
“What’s going on? You’re not even ready.”
Still in shock, I hold up the detector. “Look.”
Finn snatches the stick from me and stares down at it. His eyes widen, his jaw drops. “Holy shit. It’s positive.”
I nod.
“Are you sure?”
“I think so.”
Without warning, he gathers me into his arms, and the sob I’ve been holding back spills out against his chest. He plants a kiss on my head and then chuckles.
“I won the bet.”
“I accept.” My heart swells with unprecedented happiness. For once, the super competitive me, who’s always strived to be the winner, is happy she’s lost. Tears of joy fill my eyes and then I begin to laugh too. Oh my God! We’re having a baby!
Twenty-four hours later, I’m sporting a small tattoo on my butt. A delicate flower. A symbol of life.
***
Nine Months Later
Labor Day. Though I’m off from work, the Monday starts like any other morning. Finn and I are both up early. Nine months pregnant and only twenty-five pounds heavier, I head sprightly to the kitchen to make breakfast. First, a pot of coffee for Finn, and then, some decaffeinated Earl Grey tea for me. The divine aroma of the coffee wafts up my nose as I boil water in the tea kettle. Inhaling the dark rich brew, I long for a cup. Myobstetrician, however, has forbidden me from drinking caffeine as well as alcohol during my pregnancy and despite my love of both, I’ve obliged. Once the baby is born, I can at least go back to coffee. One cup a day. My doctor’s assured me the caffeine won’t affect the quantity or quality of my breast milk nor the baby.
The baby is due in two weeks thoughshecould drop any day. I believe it’s going to be a girl while Finn is positive it’ll be a boy. Three months into my pregnancy, we made another bet—same stakes. Either way, I just want to give birth to a healthy baby, and I’m grateful that I’ve had such an easy pregnancy. No morning sickness, cramping, or lack of energy. In fact, I’m still working full-time, much to Finn’s chagrin. He’s wanted me to take the next two weeks off, but I refused to give in. Resting is not part of my vocabulary. I’m a lot like my mother, who right up to giving birth to me, was shooting a documentary in Australia. One day, I’ll share the story with my child—Dad was driving a Jeep in the Murramarang Nature Reserve with my very pregnant mom next to him in the front seat. The open-air vehicle flew over a sizable pothole and my mother instantly went into labor. Thirty minutes later I was born in the backseat while she was shouting out to their production team not to miss one shot of the kangaroos hopping by.
“Good mornin’, baby.” A familiar rasp brings an end to my musings. I look over my shoulder.
Finn. Dressed in casual sweats that sit low on his hips and bare-chested. Unshaven, his mop of bedhead hair falling into his sapphire eyes. He shoots me his dazzling, dimpled smile.
“Mmm. The coffee smells good. What’s for breakfast?”
Before I can answer, the kettle whistles. I hurry to the stove to turn it off.
Then suddenly, I feel it. A rush of warm liquid pouring down my inner thighs. Panic rises up inside me. It’s not supposed to happen this way. What happened to the contractions?
“Oh my God!” I cry out.
“Skye, what’s the matter? Are you okay? Did you burn yourself?” Finn’s voice is even more panicked than mine.
“Finn, my water just broke!”
He glances down at the puddle of liquid around my bare feet. Speechless.
“I’ve got to get to the hospital.”
Five minutes later, with the overnight bag I’ve had packed for over a month, we’re on our way. A Springsteen song playing—“Countin’ on a Miracle.” Praying that we won’t be pulled over for speeding. Or get into an accident. The gut-wrenching contractions start coming. Praying that all will go well.
Cedars-Sinai Medical Center is about twenty minutes away, but without traffic, we make it there in ten. Finn drops off the car at the Emergency Room entrance and lifts me into his arms, leaving my overnight bag behind. Carrying me, he darts through the automatic doors and dashes up to the reception area.
“My wife is about to have our baby!” he spits out in a panic.
The attendant on duty rolls her eyes at him. “Relax. It happens all the time.”
Ten minutes later I’m in the delivery room, Finn by my side. Assisted by several nurses, a young Asian doctor examines me. I don’t recognize her.
“Who are you?” I mumble.