When Fire Meets Coffee

Chelsea XLV

"Come on, Jordyn. Think! I can't think of anything!" I encourage my wife as she thinks so hard her head might explode.

"Phoebe!" she says.

"Absolutely not."

"Sam."

"No."

"Eva."

"No."

"Charlotte."

"No."

"Can you at least suggest some then?" she pleads.

"Jean."

"We are not naming our daughter Jean."

"That's fair enough."

"Agnis."

"No." we both say at the same time.

"Think!" I say to myself.

"I got it!" Jordyn exclaimed.

"I'm listening."

"So, she's a product of our love right? What can love sometimes be described as? A chain. What keeps a chain together? A link. She's a link on our chain."

"So you want to call our child, Link?" I question.

"Yeah." she nods enthusiastically.

"I love it." I tell her.

"Finally!" she sighs and hugs me close.

"Little Link." I smile.

Perhaps we should've named her before I was almost at my due date. Which was tomorrow. January 31st.

She's been kicking about a lot lately. It's annoying but it's good to know she's still around.

"I need to go to the bathroom." I announce and Jordyn helps me to my destination.

I sit down and do my business when all of a sudden, more comes out. Like, a lot more. After I sit their in shock, I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding.

My water just broke. Fabulous.

I finish up in the bathroom and do my little pregnancy waddle over to the door.

"Hey, are you okay?" Jordyn says when I open the door.

"My water just broke."

Jordyn's eyes go wide and she starts rushing out of the room. Probably to get the bag in the car. But she forgot one important thing.

Me.

I was stood upstairs for a few minutes in a silent house. Then I hear the front door open and hurried footsteps up the stairs. Then a loud bang followed by an 'Ouch' and she bursts through the bedroom door.

"Sorry. Let's go."

We get in the car and head for the hospital. All the while, Jordyn is speaking in Welsh to herself.

"Will you stop that?" I ask her. My first contraction ripped though my body. I scream in pain and poor Jordyn doesn't know what to do, so she places her hand on my back and tells me comforting things, in English this time.

We finally arrive at the hospital and as we got through the door, another contraction came. A wheelchair was brought over to me and I was wheeled to the delivery room, still screaming. I don't think Jordyn's hand has left my back since the car.

I get situated and now all we can do is wait. But my body feels horrible from the contractions, which are getting more frequent by the minute.

"Baby wants out." I pant, taking hold of Jordyn's hand and squeezing it in my death grip as another contraction came.