At about 6.30 am. my night ended when I was woken up by what felt like bad menstrual pains. The night had been short as it took me several hours to get rid of the sick feeling in my stomach. It was a huge relief when fatigue finally washed over me and I lost consciousness. Now that my problems were bothering me again, I pressed the res button to call for the nurse. A young woman that wasn't Brittany answered and after explaining my issues to her, came to see me shortly after. My whole belly was hard to the touch like all muscles had decided to clench. The nurse tried to dismiss my worries and offered me a heating pad and a wet flannel to put on my forehead. The pad felt good but didn't do a whole lot to ease the pain. What could possibly be next?, I thought depressed. I was Dr. Heartleys first patient when she entered the hospital at 7. After a short examination she explained to me that what I was feeling were Braxton Hicks contractions, cramps that were actually a good sign because my body was practicing "fake" contractions. Most pregnant women got them at some later point in their pregnancy. Once again, I'd just have to work through it. When Hunter knocked on my door and entered, I was pacing from one corner of the room to the other with my hands propped up on my lower back. "Hey, what's up?" "Look at me," *panting* "I walk like a pregnant woman," I tried to sound humorous. My husband was standing right before me now; I stopped so he could lean down to give me a kiss. "Sorry I –" He pressed his lips on mine and I drew back and scrunched up my face appalled by the taste. "- had coffee." He had needed the extra caffeine after a sleepless night. There were dark circles under his tired clear blue eyes."You're not on the IV?" Morning shift nurse Hanna had detached me and put tape over the end of the needle in the back of my hand. "Two hours break," I informed him while starting to walk up and down again. "I'm having these fake contractions that are killing me." I breathed out through my mouth. "Hold on, contractions?!" Hunter froze in the middle of taking his jacket off. "Not real ones. They call it-," my face scrunched up again, "Braxton hickups or something. They say it's a normal pregnancy thing though." My explanation made him relax again and he put his jacket on the hook. Looking at me, he didn't feel comfortable sitting down, yet. "Why you're pacing like that?" "My whole tummy is rock hard. It hurts like ...I'm fucking agitated." He briefly looked to the bed to find the heating pad and flannel scattered on the scrunched up sheets. "D'you want me to rub your back or something?" I had picked up pace by now. "Hunter," I shot back in his direction, clearly projecting my frustration onto him, "you can't just rub this one away." I stopped to sit on the edge of my bed and focused on my breathing that pretty much sounded like I'd already be in a delivery room. Finally, Hunter dared to sit, sliding the chair right in front of me. "The lady at the prenatal classes said it might help, remember?" I opened my eyes to wipe a tear from my eye. The thought of my husband giving me a massage was actually appealing. His gentle hands were great at it. He must've felt my resistance drop because he moved to sit down next to me and started to knead the top of my shoulders. "Sorry," I mumbled when the acute pain subsided and I realized I had acted bitchy. "'S alright, bite my head off as much as you want," he sounded loving but a bit groggy. His big hands worked their way further down in circular motions. It actually relaxed me and I felt the skin of my stomach grow softer again. He scooted a bit closer to get better access to my back. "Is that good?" I tilted my head back; let out a long sigh. This felt so good. "I didn't know you had the energy to run around." "I don't," I replied truthfully. "Could you sleep well?" "A little. You?" I turned my head towards him. "I don't sleep well without you." His hands had reached my lower back now. "I know that feeling. There were a lot of nights I had to spent without you." Saying that I had to think back on the beginning of our relationship when he was touring all year around. I was a student then and tried my best to fly in to wherever in the world they were at once or twice a month at the least. The type of long-distance relationship really took a toll on us mentally, physically and spiritually. Suddenly, I got really sentimental and had to fight back the tears so I decided to change topics. "Have you talked to management?" "Yup." "And?" "Um... They weren't happy. But I told them they have to adjust the schedule, period." There was anger in his voice which rarely happened. I knew the executives could be a pain in the butt sometimes, especially when you didn't function as planned. At the same time I trusted Hunter to take care of the situation as he saw fit. When push came to shove I knew he still had amazing band mates, and best friends, to have his back. Hunter went over to kneading the skin in the nape of my neck with his thumbs; he really was a pro. He stopped for a second to play bite me there. I let out a high-pitched squeal and cringed that made him smile his crooked smile. I couldn't see it but knew it all too well. "So when's recording today?" "Um...at 10.30." "I want you to go." I put my hand on his. "I'll be fine, promised."