Chapter 8 - The Labor Room Stand
At thirty-six weeks and two days, my water broke.
It was two o'clock on a rainy Tuesday morning. Colin, who had been sleeping on the tiny pull-out chair in my hospital room for two straight weeks without complaining once, bolted upright the second I called his name.
Within thirty minutes, I was transferred to the main delivery suite. The contractions came fast and fierce, pulling me into a whirlwind of intense labor.
Colin never left my side. He held my hand through every contraction, offered me ice chips, applied counter-pressure to my lower back, and whispered constant words of encouragement into my ear.
He didn't check his phone once. He didn't look away. His entire universe had narrowed down to me and our baby.
At six in the morning, while I was in the middle of a brutal contraction, the delivery room door suddenly burst open.
Janice stood in the doorway.
She was wearing an expensive trench coat, her hair styled, holding a large camera. Behind her, two hospital security guards were attempting to reason with her.
"Colin!" Janice yelled, striding toward the bed as if she owned the room. "I heard from Aunt Marcy that she was in labor! I am the grandmother, and I have a legal right to be in this room for the birth!"
The sudden intrusion sent my heart rate monitor spiking instantly into a loud, frantic alarm: BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!
"Get her out!" I screamed through my teeth, clutching my abdomen as a fresh wave of pain wracked my body.
Before Dr. Yates or the nurses could step in, Colin moved.
He let go of my hand, turned around, and put his body between his mother and my bed. His posture was taller, broader, and more formidable than I had ever seen it.
"Get out of this room, Mom," Colin commanded, his voice deep, dangerous, and absolute.
Janice stopped, stunned. "Colin! Don't you dare speak to me like that! I am your mother! I drove an hour to see my grandchild—"
"You are not welcome here!" Colin roared, stepping forward until he was towering over her, forcing her back into the hallway. "You stressed my wife into early labor! You tried to steal from our home! You do not care about this baby—you only care about your own selfish control!"
"Colin, you are making a terrible mistake!" Janice shrieked, her voice echoing down the hospital corridor. "If you push me out now, I will disown you! You will never be part of this family again!"
Colin looked his mother straight in the eye, without a single trace of hesitation or regret.
"Good," Colin said quietly. "Because my family is in that room. And you are nothing to us."
He turned to the security guards. "Escort this woman off the hospital premises immediately. If she returns, file a trespassing charge."
The guards stepped in, grabbing Janice by her arms as she kicked and screamed, dragging her away from the unit.
Colin stepped back into the delivery room, locked the door behind him, and rushed back to my side. He took my hand, his palm warm and steady.
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"She's gone, Tess," he whispered, kissing my sweating forehead. "She's gone. It's just us now."
Ten minutes later, at 6:42 AM, our daughter took her very first breath.
