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THIRTY MINUTES LATER, when we arrived at the New York-Presbyterian/Weill Cornell Medical Center on East Sixty-Eighth Street, my third contraction struck, which made me double over in pain in the backseat of the car.
“Jesus,” I said.
“Try to breathe through it,” Blackwell said. “It will help to ease the pain.”
She and Alex were sitting on either side of me while Tank swung the limousine around in front of the hospital’s entrance.
“There’s Lisa,” he said. “At the front door. She just waved to us before she ran inside to let them know that we’re here.”
I squeezed Alex’s hand and closed my eyes as the contraction radiated from deep in my lower back to the front of my belly. It felt like my guts were being twisted in knots.
“That’s your third one in ten minutes,” Blackwell said. “I’m timing it now to see how long it lasts so that I can tell the doctor. Let me know when it’s over, and then we’ll get you inside.”
It seemed like a lifetime passed before the contraction stopped, and when it did, I gave Blackwell a nod.
“Seventy-two seconds,” she said. “Since you’re having them ten minutes apart, I’m afraid that you’re in for a long day. How many weeks are you at this point? Thirty-eight?”
“That’s right,” I said as I sat up.
“Then you and the baby will be fine—thirty-eight weeks is close enough.”
“That’s not what I’ve read. I’ve read that there can be complications if you’re not at full term when you go into labor.”
“There always can be complications, Jennifer, but we’re not going to think about any of them. Instead, we’re going to remain positive, you’re going to be evaluated by your doctor, and at some point today or tomorrow morning, you’re going to have this baby.” She looked out the side window and said, “There’s Lisa. And a nurse is coming this way with a wheelchair. Let’s get you into it and inside the hospital before the next contraction hits.”
Since Alex had already called ahead to my doctor, what happened next was a whirlwind of events that went by so quickly, it was a blur.
Once I was out of the car, Alex helped me into the chair and I heard Tank say that he’d be back after he’d parked the car. Lisa came forward to give me a kiss on the forehead, and I felt a stab of guilt for everything she didn’t know but should.
But before I could think anymore about that, all of us were suddenly in an elevator going up to the seventh floor, and before I even knew it, I was admitted directly to the labor and delivery unit at the Greenberg Pavilion. My doctor, Janet Grace, was there to greet me. And when she saw me, she put her hands on her narrow hips and gave me a friendly smile. She was a good-looking woman around my mother’s age with blue eyes and straight blonde hair that hung down to her shoulders.
“Well, look at you,” she said.
“I’m a complete wreck,” I said.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Scared. I shouldn’t be here for another two weeks, Dr. Grace.”
“You’re going to be fine, OK? There’s no reason to be concerned. You’re about to go through a journey billions of other women have gone through before you. And when it’s over, Alex and you will be parents.”
“That’s the best part,” I said with emotion in my voice. “You know how much this baby means to us.”
I felt Alex’s hand on my shoulder when I said that, and in his touch I felt a mixture of love, nervousness, and excitement.
“I do know,” my doctor said. “And since I saw you just last week, I also know that you’re perfectly healthy. So please listen to me when I say that you and your baby are going to be fine.”
“I hope so,” I said.
“How many contractions have you had?”
“She’s had three over the past thirty minutes,” Alex said, and then he motioned toward Blackwell, who was standing next to him. “Dr. Grace, this is Barbara Blackwell, who was smart enough to time the last contraction.”
The two women shook hands.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” my doctor said. “Jennifer has told me so much about you.”
“Likewise,” Blackwell said. “And from what Jennifer has told me about you, I already know that we’re in good hands.”
“How long did her last contraction last?”
“Seventy-two seconds,” Blackwell said.
“Well, that’s precise.”
“I live to be precise—in all things, large and small.”
My doctor gave Blackwell an amused look before she turned to me.
“And I understand that your water broke?”
“It did,” I said. “In the most humiliating of ways.”
“Sorry?”
“It broke over Barbara’s shoes.”
“It what?” Lisa said.
“You heard me.”
“Stop smiling,” Blackwell said to her. “Because I handled it like a pro. Hell, we were in such a hurry to get out of Wenn, I didn’t even have time to change them.”
“I had no idea,” Lisa said. “Alexa’s at Wenn right now, and I know that you keep shoes in your office. Why don’t I call and ask her to bring you another pair.”
“Why would you even offer to do that?” Blackwell said with suspicion in her voice.
“Maybe because you need a new pair of shoes, Barbara...?”
“Who are you?” Blackwell said. “Why do I feel as if you’ll ask her to bring the wrong pair of shoes?”
“Oh, stop,” Lisa said as she pulled her phone out of her handbag. “Our little rivalry is over. So let me guess. Something Chanel? Something black? Something not covered in amniotic fluid?”
“That would be perfect.”
“I’m on it.”
“And the world continues to spin around me in the most bizarre ways,” Blackwell said.
“I think I’m about to have another contraction,” I said as I felt my back start to burn. “In fact, I know that I am.”
“Then let’s get you into a room so you can have some privacy,” Dr. Grace said. “When the contraction passes, I’ll examine you, we’ll determine how far along you are, and then we’ll discuss our next steps.”
