Amy's Story - part 1Amy laid back as the contractions worsened. She could feel the baby moving down into her hips and moaned in pain. Leshia was there to help her, but it was somewhat of an embarrassment. Amy barely felt female at all on the inside, and if it wasn't for that witch's gender spell, she would never had been pregnant in the first place. As far as she was concerned, the only thing that made her predicament acceptable was that she had female genitalia.
"It's normal... We're getting close..." John replied, already knowing where Sherlock's mind was going. At last, the dressing room. Gingerly swinging the door open, he loosed his grip on John long enough to shove a large stack of chairs in front the door, keeping any potential snipers out of the room for the time being. He'd figure out what to do if they started shooting when they come to it. Leaving John on a bench, he hurried into a side room, grabbing the items that John had instructed him to get; towels, a first aid kit, anything he thought they'd need. Of course, he did manage to take a moment to type out a frantic text to Mycroft.
Jeremy sat at the table in silence, Alyssa, one of his best friends sitting across from him. He had been against the blind date from the beginning since he was worried that his nerves would cause him to go into labour, and that it would force poor Matthew, his date, to take him home or to the hospital before they even got to know each other. He was already a week past his due date, and he knew it wasn't smart to be out and about in his condition, but he also felt as if he would go insane if all he
When an hour later, Tom finally came out to the ER, covered in Jensen’s blood, and told him Jensen was stable and going to be just fine, Jared had buried his head in brother’s shoulder and started sobbing all over again. After being ushered into his still unconscious husband’s hospital room, they brought in little baby Mason, who despite initial worries about being born three weeks early, was a perfectly healthy baby boy. The relief he felt at knowing his family was going to be okay, was staggering and he’d become so lightheaded and dizzy that he nearly passed out. Thankfully, Tom ushered him to a seat next before he fainted.
Arthur growled wordlessly and Gaius subsided. Merlin lay still, wasted in the wake of his latest pain and wondered for the first time if he really had the strength to do this. He’d been undernourished for months, at first unable to hold onto anything he ate and later unable to force much of anything down his throat. He’d always been skinny but he didn’t think he’d ever been this thin before. He’d observed plump, healthy women, glowing with vitality killed off by the process of childbirth. He was about as far from healthy he could get. This was only his third contraction and he could already feel himself succumbing to exhaustion. He didn’t try to fight it; it was just so much easier to give in to the tug of sleep. Merlin was barely aware of the bed dipping beside him and a rough hand grasping his own in a gentle grip before he was lost to the darkness of sleep.
Jared nodded again, not trusting himself to speak at the moment. “Okay, you’re going to put the end of the stethoscope there. Now you'll tighten this screw here and then squeeze the bulb until this gauge is about 160, or about 10 above the last time you heard my last heartbeat. Then you’re going to slowly loosen this screw and let the gauge drop. When you hear the first beat, remember that number, and when the sound stops, remember that number too. You got it?”
Lauren winced as she took off her bra and sighed once she was free of it. She made a mental note to go out the next day and by a maternity bra- her breasts were steadily growing already in her 19th week of her pregnancy. They were already heavier than she was used to, and just big enough to make her old B cup bras feel uncomfortable. It was to the point where she was ready to renounce bras all together, but some instinct in her warned that she may not feel that way in the later months to come, so she would keep wearing them.
WARNING: This short story contains Minor Language, Mpreg, and Descriptive Labour and Birth Scenes. If you do not prefer any of these, than this is not the story for you, and I would recommend that you not read it. Especially if all you wish to do is comment on how much you think Mpreg is disgusting and wrong. If you have anything against this story, you can note me. I would prefer not to have comments that do nothing but start flame wars.
She'd gotten dressed and waddled down to the kitchen to begin her baking. At least now, she knew she could have breakfast ready before the children woke up. She knew she was in for a long labour because of her body's physical shape so she didn't want to waste any time. Clive ran in before she was done, "Oh, did I wake you?" Alexis asked her eldest son, of almost 11. He nodded and sat down groggily. "Well, breakfast will be ready soon. Why don't you go wake up your brothers and sisters?" He groaned and got back up again slumping back down the hall to go get them. It was about 20 minutes late before all 7 of her children that were able to walk had sat down at the table. "I didn't want to wake up Tommy." Clive told
A mostly quiet birthHer nurses' uniform had grown tight over the last nine months, but somehow she'd managed to squeeze her girth into the white dress. She stood at the emergency room counter, watching as a woman about her size was wheeled in, hissing and panting. It was obvious the woman was in labour, her partner panicking beyond belief as he followed along beside her.
I’m a young, first time mom, heavily pregnant with triplets. I arrive at the hospital in early labor, deposit my husband in the waiting room, and am shaved, given an enema, and catheterized before any medication is administered. Once the meds start to take effect, my legs are strapped into stirrups and my arms tied to the side of the bed. For the next twenty hours, I writhe and scream in agony as the contractions get increasingly stronger. It feels like by body is being ripped apart but I’m too out of it to remember my own name, much less than I’m pregnant and in labor. The nurses mostly ignore my crying and moaning, casually chatting about their weekend plans as they make sure my restraints are still in place despite my desperate bucking.