The Space Between Us

Not Alone

Kassie woke on a Tuesday morning in early December to a strange tightness in her abdomen that felt different from the usual discomforts of being thirty-six weeks pregnant. She lay still for a moment, timing the sensation, hoping it was just another round of Braxton Hicks contractions that had been plaguing her for weeks.

But these felt different. Stronger. More rhythmic.

She glanced at the clock: 6:15 AM. The kids wouldn’t need to be up for another hour, and she’d been looking forward to sleeping in on her day off from work. She was officially on maternity leave now, her last day having been the Friday before, and the relief of not having to commute while this pregnant had been enormous.

Another contraction gripped her, strong enough to make her catch her breath. Kassie sat up carefully, timing it. When the next one came eight minutes later, then another seven minutes after that, she felt the first flutter of real concern.

This couldn’t be labor. Not yet. She still had four weeks until her due date, and everything at her last appointment had looked perfect. Dr. Martinez had even commented on how well she was carrying the baby, how healthy everything looked.

But as she got up to use the bathroom, a stronger contraction hit her, this one accompanied by a low ache in her back that felt unmistakably like the early labor she remembered from her previous pregnancies.

By 7 AM, when she normally would have been getting the kids ready for school, Kassie was pacing her bedroom, trying to breathe through contractions that were now coming every six minutes. She’d called in sick for the kids—something she rarely did—and sent them downstairs with instructions to get their own breakfast.

“Mom?” Lee appeared in her doorway, already dressed for school, concern written across his twelve-year-old face. “Aaron says you’re not feeling good.”

“I think the baby might be coming early,” Kassie said, gripping the dresser as another contraction peaked. “I need to call the doctor.”

Lee’s eyes widened, but he didn’t panic. Instead, he stepped into the protective mode that had become second nature to him over the past months. “Should I stay home? To help with Aaron and Marie?”

“Let me call Dr. Martinez first, see what she says.”

The nurse who answered the phone took Kassie’s symptoms seriously. “Contractions every six minutes at thirty-six weeks? You need to come in right away. Don’t drive yourself—do you have someone who can bring you?”

Kassie’s first instinct was to call Daniel, but that thought lasted less than a second. He’d made his position clear weeks ago—he didn’t want this baby, didn’t want to be part of their lives. She was doing this alone.

“I’ll call my sister,” she told the nurse.

But when she called Sarah, it went straight to voicemail. Sarah was probably already at work, in a meeting or with clients. Kassie tried again, then remembered that Sarah had mentioned a big presentation this morning that she couldn’t miss.

Another contraction hit, stronger than before, and Kassie realized she couldn’t wait. The contractions were getting closer together, and Dr. Martinez’s office was twenty minutes away.

“Lee,” she called, and he appeared immediately, as if he’d been waiting right outside her door. “I need you to call your dad. Tell him I’m having complications with the baby and I need someone to watch you guys. Can you do that?”

Lee nodded solemnly. “What about getting you to the hospital?”

“I’ll figure that out. But I need to know you three are taken care of first.”

Lee was already reaching for her phone. Within minutes, he’d reached David, who promised to be there within the hour. But Kassie’s contractions were intensifying, now coming every four minutes.

“Mom, you can’t wait an hour,” Aaron said, appearing in the doorway with Marie behind him. Both younger children looked worried but were trying to be brave.

“I’m calling 911,” Lee announced, and Kassie realized her twelve-year-old was right. She was in active labor, alone, and couldn’t drive herself to the hospital.

“Okay,” she said, making peace with the decision. “Tell them I’m thirty-six weeks pregnant and in labor.”

The paramedics arrived within eight minutes, by which time Kassie’s contractions were three minutes apart and she could barely speak through them. David had arrived just before the ambulance, gathering his three children with quiet efficiency while staying out of the paramedics’ way.

“You’re going to be okay, Mom,” Marie said, hugging Kassie carefully before the paramedics helped her onto the stretcher. “The baby’s going to be okay too.”

“I’ll call Aunt Sarah,” Lee promised. “She’ll meet you at the hospital.”

“Text me updates,” David said quietly to Lee. “And take care of your siblings.”

The ambulance ride was a blur of contractions, monitoring equipment, and the paramedic asking questions about her pregnancy history while taking her vital signs. “This is your fourth?” he asked, and Kassie nodded between contractions.

“Labor typically progresses faster with subsequent pregnancies,” he told his partner. “We might not make it to the hospital.”

But they did make it, barely. Kassie was wheeled directly into labor and delivery, where Dr. Martinez was waiting with a team of nurses.

“Let’s see what’s happening,” Dr. Martinez said, her calm voice cutting through Kassie’s panic as she examined her. “You’re at four centimeters, which explains the intensity of the contractions, but we’re going to try to slow things down.”

“Slow them down?”

“Thirty-six weeks is good—the baby would likely be fine if born now—but every day she stays in is better for her lung development. We’re going to try some medication to stop the labor and see if we can buy you a few more weeks.”

The next several hours passed in a haze of IV medications, monitoring, and cautious optimism. Sarah arrived within an hour, breathless and worried, having left her presentation the moment she got Lee’s message.

“The kids?” Kassie asked through gritted teeth as another contraction peaked.

“David has them. They’re fine. Lee handled everything perfectly—he called me, called his dad, managed the whole situation. That kid is going to be an amazing big brother.”

Slowly, over the course of the afternoon, the medications began to work. The contractions became less intense, farther apart. The baby’s heartbeat remained strong and steady on the monitors. By evening, Dr. Martinez was cautiously optimistic.

“We managed to stop the labor for now,” she explained, “but you’re at high risk for it starting again. I’m putting you on strict bed rest until your due date—possibly longer if we can manage it.”

“Strict bed rest?”

“I mean it, Kassie. You can get up to use the bathroom and shower, but otherwise you need to be lying down. No lifting anything heavier than a coffee cup, no household chores, no driving. This baby needs to stay put for at least two more weeks, preferably four.”

“What about the kids? Christmas is in three weeks—”

“The kids will have to step up, and you’ll need help. Sarah, family, friends. But Kassie, if you go into labor again this early, we might not be able to stop it next time.”

That night, as Sarah helped her get settled back at home and the kids tiptoed around bringing her water and snacks, Kassie felt the full weight of what had almost happened. She could have had the baby today. Four weeks early, completely unprepared, without any of the final preparations she’d planned.

“Were you scared?” Marie asked, curled up carefully next to Kassie on the bed.

“Yes,” Kassie said honestly. “But the doctors took good care of us, and the baby’s okay.”

“What if she comes early anyway?” Aaron asked from the foot of the bed.

“Then we’ll handle it,” Lee said before Kassie could answer. “We’ll be ready either way.”

Looking at her three children—Lee so mature and protective, Aaron trying to hide his worry behind jokes, Marie snuggled against her side—Kassie felt a surge of gratitude mixed with determination. She didn’t have Daniel’s support, but she had something just as valuable: a family that would rally around each other no matter what challenges came their way.

“We’re going to take really good care of you, Mom,” Marie announced. “And the baby too, when she gets here.”

“I know you will,” Kassie said, meaning it completely. “We’re going to take care of each other, just like we always do.”

Over the next few days, as she adjusted to the strange reality of strict bed rest with three children to manage, Kassie found herself thinking less about Daniel’s absence and more about the support system that was actually present. David stepped up without being asked, taking the kids extra days and handling school pickups. Sarah rearranged her work schedule to check on Kassie daily. Even the kids’ teachers sent home extra work so they could help their mother without falling behind in school.

The early labor scare had been frightening, but it had also shown Kassie something important: she wasn’t actually alone. She had people who would show up in a crisis, who would drop everything to make sure she and the baby were safe. Daniel’s rejection had been painful, but it hadn’t left her without support—it had just shown her where her real support system lay.

As she lay in bed feeling her daughter move and kick, Kassie made peace with the reality that this baby would be born into a different kind of family than she’d originally planned. Not worse, just different. A family where love wasn’t conditional on convenience, where people showed up when things got difficult, where being wanted wasn’t dependent on perfect timing.

Her daughter might not have her biological father present, but she would have siblings who were already fiercely protective, an aunt who would move heaven and earth to help, and a mother who had learned she was stronger than she’d ever imagined possible.