"Ronnie, that doctor is so HOT!" Roxy exclaimed in a whisper to her older sister, who simply rolled her eyes in reply.
Trust Roxy to be scouting for potential boyfriends when I'm trying to give birth.
"Ooh, and that one too," Roxy said, in hushed tones. The doctor that was writing in Ronnie's chart looked up at the sisters and Roxy smiled back at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I've always wanted to see the inside of an on call room. Excuse me," she told her sister before stalking towards the doctor.
Ronnie simply shook her head and inwardly chuckled at her sister's brazenness. Not that that's something new – she's always been like that, even when she was a toddler. Ronnie watched as Roxy fiddled with a lock of her hair, twirling it around her index finger as she looked up at the doctor through her eyelashes. Roxy giggled, smiling broadly at her next prey.
Ronnie sucked in a sharp breath, her left hand clutching her lower abdomen. Immediately, Roxy was by her sister's side, holding onto her hand tightly. "Ron? You okay?"
"This baby . . . wants to . . . kill me!" Ronnie replied through her held breath, squeezing hard on Roxy's hand. "Where the hell is Jack?" She cried out as another contraction began to recede. "And why isn't this labour going faster?"
"It's okay, Ron – it's okay," Roxy tried to comfort her older sister.
"No, it's not!" Ronnie snapped, before looking at Roxy apologetically.
"Jack's just gone to grab a coffee and the labour is taking this long because . . . because," Roxy faltered, looking to the young doctor that she had just been flirting with. We could be playing 'Doctors and Nurses' right now.
"It's just a waiting game, Ronnie – the labour will progress at a rate that's dictated by the baby."
"Great," Ronnie grumbled, sighing dramatically with exhaustion and frustration. Ten hours, it's been. Ten hours of labour. When I was giving birth to Danielle, it didn't seem this long. If anything, I wanted that to go on, to stretch for hours so I could keep her with me for a few moments longer. But this time . . . this time, I just want to meet my baby.
She felt Roxy stroke her hand before the contact ceased as her little sister followed the doctor out of the delivery suite. Lying back onto the several pillows, Ronnie blew her fringe out of her face. Placing both hands on her swollen stomach, Ronnie looked down at it. "Come on sweetie, don't you want to meet mummy and daddy? We've been waiting a long time for you – a really long time. There are so many people that can't wait to meet you – your grandparents and Aunty Roxy and Amy and . . ."
Ronnie stopped, closing her eyes. She took a deep breath, fending off the wave of emotion that threatened to engulf her. She so desperately wanted to add 'your sisters' to the end of the list, but she couldn't. It wasn't possible.
"You know, you didn't want to come out either."
Ronnie opened her eyes, looking to her mother as she entered the birthing suite and sat down on the chair beside the bed. "What?"
Glenda smiled, looking at her daughter. "Thirty six hours of labour. You didn't want to budge, you were perfectly happy to stay where you were."
"Really?" Ronnie asked. She hadn't heard this before, hadn't known anything about herself as an infant.
Glenda nodded her head, her short blonde hair bouncing around the curve of her chin. "Yes." She reached out a hand and laid it over Ronnie's, the act simple yet conveying the progress they had made as mother and daughter. "You were born when you were ready, just like this little one will be."