My hands shake as I stretch the seat belt around my large belly. “Go fast, Lils,” I demand, one hand on the dash, the other resting on my baby.

My friend needs little encouragement. At one point, as Lily runs an orange light and comes within inches of being hit by a van, Mags screams. I don’t care. If anything, I wish Lily would go faster. My eyes are glued to the road ahead and I’m willing my body to hold on.

We screech into the drop-off zone at the hospital in record time and Emma has leapt out and is opening my door as the next contraction hits. I swear, and groan, and probably terrify a few people walking past on the footpath, but I honestly don’t give a shit. I don’t give a shit about anything except getting this baby out.

While Lily goes to park, Mags takes my arm, Emma grabs my suitcase, and I try not to waddle as we go through the main entrance and enter the lift along with a couple of men in suits, a nurse in scrubs and a patient with a tube up his nose. They all shuffle as far away from me as possible as we ride the lift to the delivery suite. Not that I blame them. I imagine I don’t have the friendliest of expressions on my face right now.

Thankfully, we’re welcomed onto the ward by a smiling nurse, and I’ve been shown to a room and changed into the ugly hospital-issue gown before another contraction hits. It feels different to the others and rather than groaning, I find myself growling deeply, like a dog under attack.

Leanne appears at my side. “Sounds like you’re getting ready to push, Trish, but you need to wait a little longer yet.”

“I want pain relief,” I gasp. “Lots of it.”

Leanne smiles calmly. “I’m afraid it’s too late for an epidural, Trish.”

I hope she can read from my face how much I hate her right now.

Emma comes around the other side of the bed and starts to stroke my head. “Trish, hang in there. You’re so strong. Just keep going a little longer.”

My eyes start to water. “I can’t, Em.” I choke. “I can’t do this.”

Mags grips my hand. “Yes, you can, Trish. You can do bloody anything.”

The contraction goes on and on. Just when I think it’s easing off, it comes back with more intensity. My body is shaking and sweating and all I want to do is…

“I need to push,” I yell. “Now.”

The midwife is poking between my legs. She lifts her head to meet my gaze and nods.

“OK, Trish, you’re fully dilated. When I say, start to push.”

Emma is wiping my face with a cold cloth and Mags is squeezing my hand, but not as much as I’m crushing hers.