Monday night. It had been a quiet day - Bjoern had gone back to school (the weekend seemed to have lasted forever, and so many boys!). To be honest, Astrid had been rather restless for most of the day. She had tried to paint, but couldn't get comfortable - so she'd decided to take a page out of Mitchell's book and spend the day in bed. It was the last bit of peace she would have for a while.
The anticipation had been too much for her. She couldn't sleep well, and her bladder had shrunk to the size of a pea she was sure. She had just been trying to get a glass of milk - her bones ached and she could use the calcium - when the labour pains began. She made her way to the sofa.
"What was that, honey? I was sort of in the zone writing that routine."
"My contractions have started," she said, in the same tone of voice in which you would remark to someone that it was raining outside.