“I have a bowling ball in my stomach. I’m never comfortable, Alex, but this works. I can sort of see what’s going on down there.”
I ease in, slowly, groaning at how insanely tight she is. I don’t mention that, though, because Violet is terrified that she’s going to end up with a baggy vagina—her words—after this baby comes out. So I go with, “You feel so good.” It’s true, and a lot safer.
I’m about halfway in when Violet says, “You know what? I changed my mind.”
I hold my position. “What?”
“This feels too much like a birthing position. It’s messing with my head. Maybe I should be on top.”
I’m relieved that she hasn’t changed her mind about sex entirely because finishing myself off by hand isn’t as appealing as finishing inside my wife. Also, I’m highly aware that once this baby comes I won’t be allowed inside her for a while. Weeks probably. And I don’t think she’s going to be interested in giving me consolation blow jobs either. “Sure. Okay. Do you want me to sit on the couch, or I can lie down?”
“Sitting up is probably best, right? Then you can love on my boobs, too.”
We switch positions. It takes a bit for Violet to get comfortable. At first, her knees keep sliding between the cushions. Eventually, we get everything lined up and I get back inside her.
I nuzzle her boobs and hold onto her ass while she rides me. “I can’t wait until we can have headboard banging sex again,” she moans. I know she’s about to come again when she starts chanting her cock love.
When it’s my turn, I hold her hips and move her over me, faster, but not harder, until I come, too.
Violet eventually lifts her head from my shoulder. “I don’t think it worked.”
“You don’t think what worked?”
“The sex. I don’t think it triggered labor.” She sighs. “Maybe we need to have it again.”
“Sure, baby. I’m more than happy to keep trying until it works.” What can I say, I’m a selfless giver.
Violet
I wake up for the five billionth time because I have to pee. It’s three in the morning and Alex is passed out beside me. Sleeping peacefully. Not having to pee. I throw the covers off and roll out of bed. I’m halfway to the bathroom when a rush of warmth hits my underwear and then starts dripping down my thighs.
At first, I think I’ve peed myself, until I remember that I’m super overdue and that I’ve been waiting for this moment, because it means my water has broken. I watch as an impressive puddle forms at my feet. It’s good that we have hardwood floors. Otherwise, this would be gross to clean up. I imagine fluid that’s been hanging out in my uterus for forty weeks isn’t particularly appealing.
“Alex!”
He bolts upright in bed. “I can be hard in thirty seconds. Just let me hold your boobs.”
“I don’t want sex. The baby’s coming.”
He leans over and fumbles around with the lamp on the nightstand, nearly knocking everything else off in the process. He blinds himself when he finally manages to turn it on and blinks a bunch of times before finally focusing on me. “What? Really? Like now?”
“Like now,” I confirm.
Shit. This is really happening. I’m having this baby. I’m going to push something significantly larger than my husband’s huge peen out of my vagina. What the hell was I thinking when I said we could have a baby?
The first real contraction happens then. It’s like I’m Kegeling and having period cramps at the same time. “Oh!” I put both hands on my belly.
Alex goes from half-asleep to complete panic in about four seconds flat. “Are you okay? What’s wrong? I need to get the bag. We have to get to the hospital now!”
He rushes over to me, excited and freaking out, but his expression shifts to confusion as he grabs my shoulders and looks down. “Why is the floor wet?”
“My water broke. You’re standing in baby juice.”
We both make a face, because that sounds horrible. Thankfully, he ignores it and pulls me into a hug. “We’re going to meet our baby! The one we made. Together.”
“Because we like to get our fuck on a lot,” I add.
He kisses me, without tongue, and then hugs me again. “We should go, shouldn’t we?”
“Uh, I think we’re supposed to wait until the contractions are like four minutes apart, or something, aren’t we? And we both need to get dressed. I’m thinking maybe I’d like to have a shower and wash all the baby water off me. And we should clean up the floor so no one slips.”
“Right. Okay. You stay here and I’ll get a towel.” Alex rushes to the bathroom and returns five seconds later with a towel.
Once the slipping hazard is cleaned up, he helps me to the bathroom and turns on the shower. I have two contractions while I’m taking my last shower as a pregnant woman. They’re not that bad. I can totally deal with labor if this is what it’s like.
By the time I get out, Alex is already dressed, my bag is ready, and my delivery outfit is laid out on the bed for me.
Alex is too antsy to wait for my contractions to be four minutes apart, so once I’m dressed, we head to the hospital. Turns out, the timing is actually pretty good, because things speed up once I’m in the car, and by the time we get to the hospital, the contractions are significantly closer together and a hell of a lot more painful.
Alex is like a very concerned, but annoying mother bird, fluttering around me, asking if he can do anything to help.
“Maybe never jizz inside me again,” I groan as another contraction forces me to grip the railing and try to breathe through the pain.
“I’m sorry it hurts. Maybe you should practice your breathing. That’s supposed to help, isn’t it?” Alex starts doing the Lamaze breathing exercises. Normally, I’d think this is sweet, but right now I’m in too much pain to be nice.
When I can’t take more than five steps without having a contraction, Alex takes me back to the room, apologizing a thousand times until I snap at him for that, too, which makes me feel bad, so I start crying.
Turns out, tears and labor get a lot of attention, as does Alex, being who he is, so a flock of nurses swarm the room.
“I’d like the epidural now, please,” I tell the one who looks like Betty from The Golden Girls.
“We’ll just check to see how dilated you are first.” She pats my hand and then moves into position at the end of the bed so she and all her nurse teammates can check out the state of my cooch. “Oh, you’re ready to go! Let’s get the doctor in here.” She looks up from my vagina and smiles. “You’re going to have your baby now.”
“But what about the epidural?” My voice is so shrill it probably sounds like a dog whistle.
“Oh, honey, you’re too far along for that. Don’t you worry, you’ll be just fine.”
“Fine? No, no, no. I’m not going to be fine. I hate pain and this—” the next contraction steals my ability to speak for as long as it lasts, “—really fucking hurts!”
I look over at Alex, whose hand I’m gripping, but his eyes are not on my face. They’re homed in between my legs, wide with shock. I squeeze even harder on his hand and he flinches, gaze flipping up to mine. “You got this, baby,” he croaks.