Chapter Fifty-Four
Waiting...Waiting...Waiting
WEEK 35
FEBRUARY 1ST, 2002
1730 EST
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA
Mac sighed, feeling her feet cry out in protest as she looked out at the parking lot. The walk to the car wasn't far, but felt impossibly long all the same. Especially at thirty five weeks pregnant when she'd been on her feet the entire day.
Maybe I should've gone on limited duty, after all, she thought, work ethic be damned.
"What are you doing?" Harm appeared at Mac's side, following her gaze across the parking lot to his Lexus.
She sighed, looking up at him with tired eyes. "I don't think I can take another step."
"Long day, huh?"
"You have no idea."
Harm frowned, looking from Mac to his car, then back to Mac. "I think I can help," he said, and Mac's expression instantly brightened.
"Really? So are you going to bring the car around or-"
"Nope. Come here," Without any further warning, Harm bent down and literally swept Mac off her feet, bridal-style. She gasped, scrambling to link her arms around his neck to keep her balance.
"Harm," she stared at him with wide eyes. "What are you doing?"
"Giving you a lift," he replied, looking down at her with that twinkle in his eye. As they started across the parking lot, Mac couldn't help but continue to stare at him incredulously.
"But your back-"
Harm shrugged. "I've picked you up before."
"Yeah," Mac scoffed. "Thirty pounds ago."
"Weight is just a number, babe."
Mac hopped in the shower as soon as she got home, hoping that would help her relax and make some of the exhaustion go away. The shower did help on the relaxation front, but Mac emerged just as exhausted as she had been when she went in. Exhaustion was something she'd accepted as her permanent state of existence.
As she dried off, Mac looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. Turning to the side, Mac honestly couldn't see how she was able to move. The fact that she was complaining about her size back in October-October-was almost laughable. Not to mention, she was still five weeks out from her due date. When Mac remembered that, she wanted to sit down on the floor and cry. She would have done that if she believed she'd be able to get back up again.
The waiting had begun to eat Mac alive after the baby shower, and the closer she got to March 10th, the more impatient Mac got. It wasn't so much the waiting that got to Mac, but the uncertainty under which she was waiting. A very small fraction of babies were actually born on their due dates, so March 10th wasn't even a concrete finish line. She could go into labor tomorrow, or it could be another seven weeks if the baby took after Harm, who was two weeks overdue.
Mac had reached the point of desperation that she even asked Melinda if she could be induced. Despite knowing her request would be in vain, Mac was still wholeheartedly disappointed when Melinda turned her down.
"What do you mean?" she'd asked. "I'm thirty five weeks. I'm practically done."
"I don't care," Melinda replied. "I'm not yanking out a perfectly healthy baby five weeks early for no reason. I like my job."
Wrapping herself up in her robe, Mac gently poked her bump. "You know, I looked up the statistics," she said as she reached for the bottle of lotion. "The mortality rate for a baby born at thirty five weeks is less than one percent, so if you want to take a gamble and come out a little early, I'd be fine with it. I'm free the rest of this week."
She received nothing in response. Not the twinge of a contraction, or even a kick. With a dejected sigh, Mac waddled out into the bedroom, where Harm was waiting for her with Mac's pouch of nail polish.
"Who were you talking to?" he asked, watching Mac curiously as she awkwardly climbed into bed next to him.
"Our child," she said. Harm sat up from the headboard, and Mac placed her feet into his lap. "I'm trying to get him to arrive sooner."
"Sooner?" Harm's eyes widened, going down to look at Mac's bump. "Don't you think it's a little early for her?"
Whereas Mac was anxious to get the pregnancy over with, Harm wanted desperately for it not to end. Of course he wanted Mac to be more comfortable, but the closer March 10th got, the more unsure Harm became of his readiness to become a father.
"No," Mac said. "People don't mind if their steaks are a little undone, so if our baby's a little...undercooked, I don't see the issue," she shrugged. "Medium rare steak, medium rare baby. It's the same thing."
Harm stared at Mac. "Honey, please don't call our baby medium rare. Or any baby, for that matter."
"Fine," Mac grumbled, stretching out on the bed. "You know what I mean."
"What color do you want?" Harm asked, holding up Mac's nail polish pouch.
"Ummm," she paused in her lament to try and figure out which color she was in the mood for. "There should be a light green in there somewhere."
Since Mac could no longer see her feet without turning into a contortionist, Harm had been enlisted as her pedicurist. "Found it," he held up the bottle. "Is this one it?"
"Yeah," Mac nodded, settling back down against the pillows. "I was trying to think of something that would match the delivery room."
Harm's brow furrowed. "The delivery room?"
"I knew you would complain if I picked blue, so I opted for a gender neutral option."
Another thing that had gotten more heated as the due date approached was Harm and Mac's debate over the gender. Mac was more insistent than ever that it was a boy, whereas Harm was growing more and more positive it was a girl.
"You could do pink," Harm offered. "Or yellow."
Mac wrinkled her nose. "Then my toes are going to look like they have some sort of fungus."
"Like green is any better."
"Green is the color of the Corps, of course it's better."
Harm began to paint Mac's toes, utilizing the steady hands he'd developed from painting and piloting. He took frequent pauses though, to look up and study Mac. She was looking up at the ceiling, and Harm could tell she was tired. He knew her sarcasm was a well curated facade for how discouraged she was feeling.
Putting the cap on the nail polish, Harm reached out and squeezed Mac's hand. "Hey," he said. Mac looked up at him, quickly wiping away a tear so he wouldn't see.
"Yeah?" she sniffled.
"It's gonna be okay," he said, and she nodded.
"I know."
Even before Mac's pregnancy, her and Harm had always been able to lean on each other when there were things that needed to be weathered. This situation was no different. They were going to be there for each other, regardless of what happened. It had always been like that with them, and it always would be like that.
Since these two chapters are so short, I decided to post them together!
Thanks for reading!
-Harper