By around November 7th, I could feel my due date around the corner. I was beyond big, like I'm quite a petite little lady normally but this bump looked ridiculous on me. I literally looked like I'd swallowed a whole watermelon in one go. Josh (who I have thankfully patched things up with a long while back) says I just look "motherly" and I felt worse. Plus my tattoos on my hips and legs have stretched and look horrific now. I'm not having another baby.

At this late stage of my pregnancy, I couldn't move. I couldn't bend over, I couldn't laugh or sneeze without nearly pissing myself, and that baby will not stop kicking me senseless. I was honestly delighted to soon pop, as it can't be much worse than this.

---

On November 14th, I felt horrible. I felt nauseous and not hungry at all, and I physically couldn't move. I'd had bad pains the night before, and had Josh up the whole night with my moaning, whining and whimpering (not the good kind, may I add), and I didn't sleep either. We put it down to nothing more than the baby moving around to be head-first, so there wasn't much I could do but bare the pain. Nasty stuff.

I woke up at about six-ish, and lay on my side to try and sleep, but it didn't work. I stayed this way for hours, and there was nothing. The pain was back again, so I had to switch sides, which caused it to ease off. This was at about eleven, and Josh was awake at this time watching the TV.

"Alright love?" He asked. "You look grey."

"Pain's back. I'll be fine. It'll ease off." I replied, breathing a sigh of relief as it subsided slightly.

"No, Rachel, I think you're going into labor. Do you wanna make a move to the hospital?"

"Not labor, I'm not due for a few days. Besides, my waters haven't broke. If they had, then I'd say it was labor." To be honest, it was pissing rain, and I wasn't humored to go out in it.

"Rach-"

"I'm fine, Joshua. Oh, shit, we've nothing for dinner." I'm eating for two, so I think of food often. "Will you fly to Sainsbury's and grab something? I'm not going out in that rain."

"Dinner's hours away, don't stress about it. And you needn't think I'm leaving you on your own with how heavily pregnant you are. You'll have to come with, but I won't make you walk so much."

"I can't move. I'm not leaving this bed."

"You need air, you've been stuck inside these past few days. Some air'll do you the world of good, I promise."

"But-"

"No. You'll have to come with me babe, I'm sorry." I scowled at him, but he didn't notice.

Let's just say showering and getting dressed was more of an effort that I'd anticipated, and leave it there.

---

The walk around Sainsbury's was horrific from the start. It took is ten minutes to walk down one aisle, and the whole time, we were getting looks from middle aged snobs and their little kids. I was going to mouth off at them, but Josh pulled me back by putting his arms around me (above Bump) and kissed my neck (and he was stubbly so it was heaven) and told me to keep quiet and not stress. So I did.

However, just as we were down the aisle full of sweets that we were going to get for our movie marathon tonight, I could feel it. It was cold, wet, and felt like a river ruling down the legs of my black leggings. All I could do was make whale noises. My fucking waters just broke in the middle of Sainsbury's.

"Joshua. Babe." I cried, and let out a mangled sob/yelp of pain. I was standing with my legs apart and my arms clutching my bump, trying not to cry while looking at the massive puddle that was surrounding me.

"Oh shit. Fuck. Oh God." He was panicking and had turned white. And then I felt that sharp shooting pain wash over me. Contractions. "Cmon Rach, now we're going to the hospital."

"But the baby bag's at home." In a crisis like this, I was worried about the bag containing all of the stuff we'd need for the hospital.

"Dan has a key, I'll get him to swing by and get it when he's on his way up. Just relax, babe, it's all fine. Just breathe. Do it like you did when you bit that jalapeno for the dare when you were seventeen." He grabbed my hand, and he had to basically drag me as I waddled behind him. In the meantime, he'd flagged down a staff member to tell them my waters had broke and that I'd left a lake on aisle5.

---

My contractions hit bad, then eased off and I was fine. This process went in a cycle for the half hour drive to the hospital, also while I tried not to panic. I was actually going to see The little baby I've carried around for nine months. I was actually going to see what I was capable of creating with my partner in crime. I was unbelievably unprepared, but also happy at the same time. I was going to be a shitty mum, though.

I got checked into the hospital and was assigned a room, and they got me all set up in the gown (what a shitty piece of material) and on my bed, trying to make me "as comfortable as possible" despite the crap load of pain that I was in. I couldn't help but laugh.

I had to sit with my legs up as if I was putting them to my chest, and everyone so often, some doctor would come along and look at my (*wolf whistle*), and all I could say was thank the non existent Lord that I got waxed a few days ago. Josh didn't like this, though he knew full well that it was standard procedure in order to see how many inches dilated I was. Still didn't stopped him rolling his eyes.

---

Dan, Taylor, my mum and Josh's parents all got here after six, due to finishing up work etc., and got to visit me for about an hour. My mum and Mrs. Franceschi gave me a detailed pep talk about how to push, to do what the doctors say and everything, which was handy. Dan also brought the aforementioned baby bag, so that was a weirdly satisfying relief. I'd a book shoved in there (Ps. I Love You) so I'd a source of entertainment till I got the green light to go pop.

My contractions got worse and more frequent as the evening went on (we got there ourselves after four, as we left it really late to go do the shopping as I was in too much agony), and I figured the time was coming soon. I couldn't focus on my reading, and so abandoned it after a while.

"Nervous?" Josh asked out of nowhere, and I nodded and gulped. He came and sat on the chair next to me, and began to rub my back.

"Extremely. Don't know what I'm going to do with myself. You?" I replied, wincing as I'd yet again gotten another contraction.

"Completely bricking it. Can't even take care of myself, let alone a little baby girl. And she's going to be so dependent on me because I'm her dad, and the thought of that scares me. Don't want to let her down, y'know?" He broke. I couldn't believe it.

"Don't be like that, babe. You'll do just fine. You're so good to me and always make me feel safe and everything, so I can guarantee you'll do just the same to baby Lottie. It'll take us time to adjust, yeah, but we'll manage. Promise." I felt so wise.

"I guess you're right, like, but it's just that one fear. I don't want her to hate me."

"She won't, I swear. It'll be okay love, don't worry." I stuck my lips out for the hint of a kiss, which was greatly returned. This went on for a while, until a nurse told us to calm it down.

Notes

I'm sorry, but if you honestly have a fucking problem with my fanfics not being heavily All Time Low related, I really don't care. This is my account, I can post what I very well want. Thanks.

Also highkey wanna do a sequel for this but from Charlotte's POV but it'll be too similar to my other stories so I'm having doubts. Wouldn't be doing it for a long while, anyways.

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