AOIFE
“WELL, good news, your cervix is favorable,” the doctor said, tossing his gloves in the nearby bin. “The baby’s head is engaged. That bloody show you experienced this morning. That was your mucus plug. I wouldn’t be surprised if you delivered in the next twenty-four hours.”
“Twenty-four hours?” Mam exclaimed. “That soon? But she’s not due for another three weeks.”
“Only 5% of babies are delivered on their due date, and this baby is measuring on the larger side, which aligns with why she’s already two centimeters dilated,” he replied. “It could take several more days. Another week, even. Babies are unpredictable, but in my experience, your daughter is a prime candidate to deliver sooner rather than later.”
“Can you slow it down, doc?” Perched on the examination table, with my legs hanging open, and my dignity back in Ballylaggin, I pulled up on my elbows and pleaded with the man in green scrubs “I’m not due for another three weeks and my boyfriend doesn’t get back into town until Wednesday night.”
“Aoife,” Mam sighed. “It doesn’t work that way, pet.”
“Baby comes when baby is ready,” the doctor replied. “And I’m hedging towards baby being ready, Aoife.”
“Well, I don’t care what either of you say,” I grumbled, rolling off the examination table and adjusting my maxi-dress. “I’m not having the baby until Joe gets home.”
 |
“HEY, WADDLES,” Casey called out, leaning against my dad’s van in the hospital parking lot, soaking up the warm summer afternoon. “How’s our baby coming along?”
“Don’t even start,” I grumbled, dragging my oversized self across the parking lot. “It’s too damn hot, and I’m dealing with some serious electric shocks to the crotch.”
“Lightning crotch,” Mom corrected as she unlocked the van. “Please, love, I know you’re cranky, but try to keep it less vulgar.”
“Lightning crotch,” Casey grinned. “Oooh, sounds spicy.”
“You know what’s not spicy, Case? Having a geriatric obstetrician shove his entire hand inside your—”
“Aoife!”
“Vagina,” I huffed, correcting myself.
“Are we talking a whole fist here?” my best friend asked as she helped hoist me into the van.
“We’re talking a whole fist, arm, and elbow!”
“I hope he at least wore a glove.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Aoife,” Mom chuckled as she climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “It was just a routine internal exam, love, not calving season at Old MacDonald’s farm. If you think that was bad, just wait until you’re in labor. It’s going to be wild down there.”
“Old MacDonald’s farm,” Casey snorted. “Nice one, Trish.”
“Wow,” I said dryly. “I’m so thrilled that the upcoming destruction of my vagina is providing you both with such entertainment.”
“Well, that’ll teach you to let your boyfriend go in there without protection.”
“Yes, Mother,” I replied, dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve definitely learned my lesson.”
“She’s already two centimeters dilated, Casey,” Mom said excitedly. “The doctor thinks she’ll have the baby by tomorrow.”
“Chill, Mom,” I cut in. “Nothing’s coming out of me until Joey gets home.”
“That’s not technically true,” Casey pointed out, nodding toward the damp spot on the front of my dress. “You’re leaking a little there, babe.”
“Oh, come on,” I wailed, throwing my hands up in frustration. “What’s wrong with that boob?”
“We should get you a bell and rename you Daisy.”
“Which one, love?”
“The left one,” I grumbled, grabbing a tissue to stuff into my bra. “The right one’s always well-behaved, but the left one’s an embarrassing mess.”
“Oh, come on,” Casey laughed, patting my big belly. “Ignore the leaks and let’s go get those swollen feet a pedicure before baby daddy gets back.”
“Hm,” I mumbled, slightly cheered by the thought of seeing Joey again. “Think they have a hedge trimmer at the salon?”
“Come on,” Casey coaxed. “Give us a smile. You’ve only been waiting for this all summer.”
She was right.
I had been waiting all summer—fifteen long weeks, to be exact. Joey was finally coming home.
By Wednesday night, we’d be together again.
“I’m nervous,” I admitted aloud for the first time, even though the feeling had been gnawing at me for weeks.
“What?” Casey and Mom asked in unison. “Why?”
“Because look at me, guys,” I gestured to my stomach. “I’m not exactly the Aoife he remembers.”
“Aoife, you’re about to have his baby,” Mom said gently. “You are beautiful, sweetheart.”
“Forget beautiful, babe, you are breathtaking,” Casey chimed in. “I don’t know anyone else who could rock a nine-month baby bump and still look totally hot! He’s going to lose his mind when he sees you!”
“Casey,” Mom scolded. “Please, love, can we not?”
“Sorry, Trish, but it’s true,” my best friend replied. “Our girl here is a MILF!” Grinning mischievously, she added, “And when Joey the DILF gets home, sparks are going to fly.”
“Oh, for the love of all that’s holy,” Mom muttered, sounding pained.
“You have nothing to be insecure about, Aoif,” Casey reassured me. “But just to boost that self-esteem, we’re going all out on the pampering today, and it’s all on Daddy T’s dime.” She looked to my mom before asking, “You did swipe the credit card before we left the house this morning, didn’t you, Trish?”
“I sure did, girls.”
“Yay.” Clapping excitedly, my bestie draped her arm over my shoulder. “We’re about to do some serious damage.”
