"Why are there so many dirty clothes!?" Lucy hollered down the hall as she attempted to stuff laundry in the washer. Inevitably, some spilled out onto the floor and there was no way she could bend down to pick them up. She huffed, cursed, her bad mood only boiling over further.
"Maybe because we have a toddler," Emily suggested, coming down the hall with Clara clinging to her hip like monkey. "What exactly are you doing?"
She was attempting to pick up a sock with her toes, bracing her self against the wall as she did so, lest she fall over and have to regain her upright stance which would inevitably take hours... "Laundry," she answered.
Emily set Clara down (much to the toddler's chagrin) and took the laundry basket from Lucy. "Why?"
Lucy shot her a glare. "Because there's no clean clothes in this house!"
"You could've asked me to do a load of wash," Emily reminded gently. "You really shouldn't be on your feet so much."
"So, you'd prefer that I sit around like an invalid and.." she started to ask.
Emily interrupted, tone placating. "No, I just want you to rest, like the doctor suggested.
She huffed. "I'm tired of resting!" Lucy griped. "I just want this to be over already!" She waddled over to the bed, dropping unceremoniously onto it. Clara took that as an invitation to scramble up onto the bed and immediately start jumping up and down on the mattress.
Following her, Emily set the laundry basket aside and settled next to Lucy, reaching to rest a hand on her knee. "I thought you enjoyed being pregnant?"
"I do," she answered. "I did." She shook her head, sighed, proceeding to list, "I'm exhausted and unattractive and cranky and..."
"Lucy," Emily interrupted once again, gently squeezing her knee, "I know you're feeling overwhelmed right now, but..."
She scoffed. "Don't pretend like you understand," she grumbled. "You have no idea."
Emily was doing her best to maintain her calm in the face of Lucy's ire, knowing that nothing good would come from picking a fight and pissing her off further. "What can I do to help?" she asked.
"Nothing!" she snapped. "Nothing will help until this damn kid is out of me!" She glared down at her belly as if the expression alone could convince the baby to exit her body.
"Okay, so let's get an induction scheduled and..." she suggested.
Lucy cut her off. "No!"
Emily sighed. "So, what would you like to do?" she asked. "Because we obviously can't keep living like this..."
Lucy's eyes narrowed. "Like what?"
"Lucy, you have to admit that your temper has been a little out of control lately," she murmured, "It's not your fault, I know, but it's a little uncomfortable walking on eggshells around you."
Lucy's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry!" she sobbed. "I'm so sorry, Em – please, don't leave..."
"Lucy, I'm not going to leave you!" she vowed, "Just because you're a little cranky. But I don't want you to be uncomfortable and in pain if you don't have to be. Will you at least talk to the doctor about being induced?"
And, though she didn't appear pleased about the idea, she nodded her concession anyway.
"Fuck!" Lucy growled, arching her back off the bed as another contraction coursed through her. Her fists were wrapped around the bed sheets and Emily couldn't help but be glad it wasn't her fingers in that grip, certain her bones would be dust.
Emily stroked her hair off her sweaty forehead, leaned down to kiss her temple. "I'm sorry, Ella, I know this is hard..."
"It fucking sucks!" she replied, not mincing words.
"What can I do to help?" Emily asked, certainly not about to argue her word choice.
"Go back in time and convince me not to get the induction," she deadpanned.
Tying back Lucy's hair and choosing not to take the bait, knowing no good could come from arguing whether that particular idea had been a bad one, Emily asked, "Is it worse than last time?"
She nodded vigorously, but couldn't seem to muster words in the face of her pain.
"It's been almost twelve hours," Emily said gently, "Maybe we should ask about the epidural..."
"But..." she started to protest.
Emily squeezed her hand gently. "Remember how the book said epidurals can sometimes speed labour?" she reminded. "And if you want, you can always have them turn it down when it's time to push."
She still didn't seem entirely convinced.
"Just think about it," she encouraged. She kissed her tenderly. "I'm just going to call to check on Clara, okay? I'll be right back."
"Where Mama?" Clara asked over the phone.
"Mama's at the hospital, remember?" Emily said. "She's going to have the baby."
"Baby?" she repeated.
"Your baby sister," she reminded. "Next time you see her, your sister will be on the outside of her tummy."
Clara hollered into the phone, "C'ara baby!"
Emily smiled softly to herself. "Yes, she'll be your sister."
She screeched. "NO! C'ara baby!"
"You're still going to be our baby," she assured Clara. "You'll always be our baby."
She didn't seem convinced, based on the volume with which she babbled in response.
"I think it's time for bed, Clara," Emily said gently. "Night night. Be good."
Clara started sobbing noisily. "Mommmmmmmmmmmy!" she wailed.
"How's Clara?" Lucy asked. She'd since gotten out of bed and moved onto the birth ball where she was rotating her hips in a circle in an attempt to get the baby engaged in the pelvis.
Emily sighed. "I think she's just tired and misses us..." she said slowly.
Lucy shot her a raised brow. "Meaning what?"
"She doesn't exactly seem thrilled about the idea of not being the baby of the family anymore..." she admitted.
She frowned. "I thought she'd gotten past that stage?"
"I'm sure she'll be fine once she actually meets the baby," Emily assured. "Once she sees that we still love her."
Chewing her lips, Lucy muttered, "Whose idea was it to gave more than one kid?"
Emily just laughed. "I'm pretty certain it was yours..."
"Yes, well...in the future, please ignore all my suggestions, okay?"
Kissing the top of her head, Emily replied, "No way – I know better than to get on your bad side."