1 Labor (part 2)

I woke up to the pain between my thighs and at the base of my swollen abdomen. My clothes were damp, and my face was dripping with sweat. I was breathing heavily to catch my breath.

I looked at my hands. They weren't the hands of the child. They were the hands of a woman on the last term of her pregnancy. Longganisa-like. I touched my cheeks to feel the sting of the cut, and I sat up when it felt moist on my fingertips. I looked down at it. There was blood.

The sudden movement woke my mother up, and she looked at me with a worried look on her face.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" she asked, her voice husky with sleep. She rubbed the sleep off her almond shaped eyes. Even in the room lit only by a small nightlight, her mother's skin showed a slight yellow tinge. She felt for my swollen stomach and pulled the covers off my body. She gasped, stood to turn on the lights, and opened the door.

"Ma! Eve's water has broken," she yelled out as she got dressed and began packing the bag she had prepared on the side of the door.

The space between my legs was wet, and in the light, I could see spots of blood amid the moisture.

The sound of someone scrambling erupted next door, and her Lola Amor emerged in the darkness, fully dressed and handing the car keys to her daughter.

"Go start the car, Grace. I'll get Eve ready," she said, taking the bag from her daughter.

It unnerved me that they were so calm about my going into labor. My mother looked to me one last time. She approached me and kissed my forehead.

"You'll be alright, anak. Your lola and I are here," she said before going out the door.

Lola Amor came to me and helped me get out of my night dress and into more presentable clothes. The pain between my thighs echoed throughout my body, and I moaned in pain. I sat back on the bed as Lola Amor packed my phone into her handbag.

"Lola, I need my phone," I told her. "We should tell John."

She tried to smile, which came out as a half-hearted smirk, but she handed me my phone anyway. I typed up a quick message to the father of my child.

"Water broke. Going to hospital now."

I looked at the screen on my phone, hoping that he'd seen my message. I felt searing pain rise up from my womb. Lola took my phone away from me and put it in her bag. She took out a panyolita from it.

"Not a lot of time to waste for that lazy bastard," Lola said, pulling me up on my feet and helping me walk out the door.

I looked away from her in shame. What happened between John and I was supposed to be just a one-night stand. He wasn't supposed to stay in my life this long. And he knew that. He has chosen to shirk off all responsibility for my child—but not without suggesting that I try to get rid of it. Like it was a toy broken down by years of mindless play.

Not that I needed him to provide for me. I can very well provide for myself like I have done so for my mother and lola.

Lola stopped at the doorway and looked me in the eyes.

"Remember, anak, you are strong. You are brave. You are loved," she said, wiping the blood on my cheek. I caught a glimpse of the mole in her palm. "You are your mother's daughter like she is mine. Like I am my mother's. You are not alone. You will never be alone."

I felt tears sting at the corners of my eyes, and Lola hugged me tight. "I love you, Lola."

"I love you, too, anak," she said. "Thank you."

I looked up at her, the spell broken by her last words, but she was already rushing me into the back of the parked car on the driveway of our house. Lola sat next to me in the back. My mother looked at me from the rearview mirror, smiled, nodded, and mouthed the words, "I love you, anak." Eve said it back.

Lola Amor didn't let go of my hand until I fell asleep again.