Eucatastrophe ~ h.s.

✗ seventy-three ✗

SHAY

31 January

You never really know how painful the process of bringing a life into the world is until you're trying to take a stroll around a maternity ward of a hospital at nearly eleven in the evening.

The pain is tremendous and I recommend to any expecting mother out there to get the epidural. Don't brave it out like moi, it's painful and you won't get any rest whilst waiting for the baby to arrive. You'll be stuck taking a walk around a ward with expectant, screaming women and "cheery" new mothers.

"How are you doing, darling?"

My man hasn't left my side all afternoon and evening, not since arriving at the hospital. I made him leave the main area of the suite once to pee, but even then he was very argumentative. Other than that he has been nothing but lovely, and overwhelming.

"I'm tired, in a lot of pain, and trying to walk around a hospital ward to speed the process of labour up. How do you suppose I'm doing, darling?" I answer him, narrowing my eyes up at him as I pause my walk in the midst of the hall.

My hands grip the banister at my left, resting my forehead against the cool wall as another contraction rips through my body. The pain is only getting stronger as the day comes to a close and the contractions only get closer together and longer in length. It's bloody awful.

The pain has gone from: yes I can try to talk through it and walk out the pain; to: I can do nothing but moan and groan, and pray that if I lower myself down to the ground I can get back up.

"I know it hurts."

Harry has learned that the only contact he should have with me during a contraction is: his hand in mine, his hand rubbing circles on my lower back, or he should be far away from me. Considering we're standing in the midst of a semi-quiet hall, his presence closer to me is needed to keep me on my feet.

"Yes, it hurts like a bitch." I groan out as the pain simmers down to a dull ache.

"Yet you still look as beautiful as ever." Harry compliments, leaning down to press a kiss to my sweaty forehead. I roll my eyes at his comment, knowing he's bound to be lying to this bloated, sweating beast of a woman.

From the corner of my eye, the motion of another person in the hall causes me to roll my eyes a bit. The last thing that I want right now is more people to witness me right now.

"He's right you know." The person says. "You really do look beautiful." I groan louder than I did during a contraction at the sound of his voice, a gesture that I'm sure he takes little offense to.

Harry and I both look to the skinny man in joggers and an Adidas jacket waltzing towards us with a paper bag in hand. His hair is spiked a bit and he looks very amused in my state of pain and exhaustion. He, too, looks to be very tired, but he's not the one that will have to push a baby out from her vagina in less than a day's time.