One word for you: Game
send me one word birth prompts!
Allie whimpered with the latest contraction, suddenly and absurdly grateful for the full gymnasium around her. If nothing else, the excitement of the game below - her high school son's championship basketball game - kept all eyes firmly fixed elsewhere, and the roar of the crowd at every possession change gave the perfect cover for her little grunts and moans as her soon-to-be-youngest inched closer to the world. Her husband had left for the concession stand twenty minutes ago, chattering animatedly with their middle schooler about college scouts.
With the next contraction she was gripping the edge of the bleacher below her, panting frantically through her nose as she felt herself begin to open into that familiar burning crown. When faced with the prospect of a high school gym filled with bodies, a cool sundress had felt like the best choice. Now, with just the thin later of her panties between her baby's head and the world, she wished she'd picked something else.
She was paralyzed, eyes directed at the court but glazed and unseeing. If she moved her legs, even a little bit, the head would pop out, she just knew it. And if that happened she'd scream.
Someone fouled. She wasn't sure who, nor did she care. The cries of outrage from half the crowd and groans of disappointment from the other gave her the cover she needed. She pushed, hard, a guttural groan blending in neatly as the head inched, inched, and burst free.
She leaned back in her seat, whimpering under her breath at the feeling of the baby turning, and her eyes moved to the clock on the scoreboard.
Half a quarter left.









