Ran :]

Your discomfort increases and suddenly we realize we walked a little too far from home and the walk worked a little too well on speeding things up.

Now you're squatting on the middle of the sidewalk as I beg you not to push while other pedestrians watch.

I’d been in labour for hours but the contractions had stalled… for the last few hours they’d been stuck at 20 minutes apart with no sign of progression. I was getting frustrated, disheartened, pacing around our home trying to get the baby to move down but she seemed reluctant to leave the safe confines of my womb.

You could tell I was feeling cooped up wandering endlessly around the same four walls. So you suggested going for a little walk. The fresh air, change of scenery, might help me relax and coax our child to move things along.

It was slow moving, but the cool autumn breeze felt glorious against my warm and sweaty skin as we made our way down the street. We would stop when the contractions struck, allowing me to brace against a lamppost or hold on to your shoulders as I swayed my hips and moaned quietly through the waves.

We walked and talked, as much as I was able, my hands cradling the low and heavy belly that hung from my hips. It was so nice being outside, not feeling trapped inside our home and being able to take in the cooler air and sounds and smells of nature of the nearby park. The contractions kept on coming, but neither of us noticed the jump in their frequency. Both exhausted after being up all night with my earlier labouring.

It wasn’t until the pressure spiked between my hips, causing me to let out a strained growl against your chest, immediately followed by my waters breaking all over the pavement, that we realised our plan had worked. The baby was moving down! The contractions now closer and much more intense. We should head back home—

“Nnnnghhh— god— I feel like she’s right there honey—” I grunted out after taking two steps back in the direction of our home.

You held me steady, telling me to breathe through the waves, that I was doing wonderfully and you kissed the top of my head as I clung on to you. When the contraction passed we continued walking. We’d ended up quite far from our house, the journey suddenly seeming a Herculean task with the weight and pressure deep in my pelvis.

I had to stop every two minutes, we were barely making any progress in the journey with how often I had to pause to ride out a contraction. My gait was wide, bow-legged, staggering home instinctually… desperately. The noises I was making turned feral, low and primal, as the weight of the head sank lower and lower. It felt like I had a bowling ball in my hips and it was about to drop out of my body.

You tried to get me to move but my feet were planted firmly on the pavement. Suddenly I grunted, knees bending, hips lowering in a half squat. I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t control it—

I was pushing!

You kept me from sinking to the floor, wide eyed and panicked. You told me not to push, that we were almost home, to hold on just a little bit longer… my response was another deep and grunting push. I could feel the baby so low, just inside of my body, desperate to be born. Within the confines of my clothing I could feel my lips begin to part around the head. I looked up at you, sweaty and red-faced, tears in my eyes…

“She’s coming out—”

It was all I could say before the urges to push took hold once more and I was squatting right there on the pavement, the head crowning into my leggings.