Chapter 125: Bundles of Joy
Diane’s POV
The car ride to Memorial Hospital felt both endless and too short at the same time. Each contraction that gripped my body seemed to last an eternity, while the minutes between them flew by in a blur of worried voices and the steady hum of the engine.
Noah’s hand never left mine, his thumb tracing soothing circles on my palm as my father drove with the focused intensity of a man on a mission.
"Please call Joan," I managed to gasp between contractions, fumbling for my phone with shaking hands. "And Doctor Chen. Please, Noah."
Without hesitation, Noah took my phone and dialed Joan’s number first. I could hear the panic in his voice as he explained the situation, his words coming out in a rush. "Joan, we’re on our way to Memorial Hospital. Diane’s in labor. Yes, now. Can you meet us there?"
The next call was to Doctor Chen, my obstetrician who had become like family over these past months. Her calm, reassuring voice came through the speaker, immediately easing some of my anxiety. "I’m already at the hospital," she said. "I’ll be waiting for you. Everything is going to be fine, Diane."
My father’s voice cut through the car as he spoke into his own phone, his tone urgent but controlled. "Helena, you need to get to Memorial Hospital immediately. Diane’s having the babies. Yes, now. Call Sophie too."
The mention of my mother and sister brought tears to my eyes, though I couldn’t tell if they were from emotion or pain. My family was rallying around me, just as they always had when I needed them most.
When we finally pulled up to the hospital’s emergency entrance, everything became a whirlwind of motion. Noah and my father helped me out of the car as a nurse appeared with a wheelchair, her practiced efficiency immediately taking charge of the situation.
"Okay, mama, let’s get you inside," she said with a warm smile that somehow managed to cut through my panic. "We’re going to take good care of you and those babies."
As they wheeled me through the automatic doors, I heard Noah and my father’s footsteps behind us, their voices overlapping as they tried to follow us into the delivery ward.