I’m asleep, dreaming of festive greenery, richly scented eucalyptus, holly with its bright red berries. They all form the decorations for an imaginary party I’m hosting. The sun streams through the windows, the room sparkling with a strange light. The smell of cinnamon and cloves ripens the air and music plays, the invented atmosphere jovial and celebratory.
As I look around, I see Mum, dancing with Grigor, her head thrown back in laughter. The sea laps loudly outside, but somebody has opened the door, and it begins to wash in. Slowly at first, but then with increasing speed, flooding the space. The water circles my ankles, my legs, my thighs. I’m up to my waist in it, soaking wet.
I look up for help, but everyone else has faded away – apart from Mum, who stands across from me. But the sea hasn’t reached her. She nods and smiles.
I start as I wake, still feeling drenched from my dream. Then I realise I am lying in a puddle of increasing liquid. I’m saturated and have no control over what my body is doing.
‘Theo, wake up.’ I nudge him in the ribs, but he doesn’t stir, so I try again, shouting more urgently. ‘Theo, my waters have broken.’
He springs up, immediately alert.
‘What? Now? Is early! Baby should not be for six more days! Should I call Doctor Galanos?’
‘I don’t know. Is it bad it’s early?’ I’m startled, unprepared as a cramping grips my insides.
I bite down on my lip as the first wave of pain washes through me, pulling and tugging at what feels like every internal organ. The relief when it subsides is like I’ve taken a dose of morphine.
‘I’m going to clean up. Could you run me a bath and change the sheets? And open the doors and windows.’
I feel incredibly calm, a practicality overtaking me, whereas Theo is running about unsure of what to do first in my list of orders. He looks like a young boy in the morning sunlight, bleary green eyes, his hair sticking up wildly.
‘Theo, look at me.’
He walks over to me, fear and excitement plain in his face.
‘Let’s take a breath and be calm, endáxi?’
He breaths in and out heavily and I’m sure this should be the other way round, but his panic is a good distraction from the next wave of contractions, which are more forceful than before. Grinding white pain wraps around my lower back, wrenching at my stomach. I grip his hand and lean on the bed for support, remembering my breathing.
‘OK, call Doctor Galanos, ask him what we should do. We need to know when to leave for the hospital.’
Before I can imagine every worst-case scenario, another contraction stops me. The intensity is overwhelming, my stomach rock hard through my nightgown as my body gets to work. Stepping out onto the balcony while I wait for my bath, I breathe in the sea air, willing it to send me serenity.
This beach has given Theo and me so much; it also gave my mother Grigor.
Now, I need its magic to give us this baby safely.
An innate understanding begins to flow through my body. This is why Mum kept her secrets – to protect me. The undeniable force of being a mother. Because I know I’d move the whole world to keep this little one safe and away from anything that could possibly cause it harm.
That’s what Mum did for me, and what I – we – will always do for our baby.