Though Amy did have a very feminine body; she often tried to hide her wide hips and bust with baggy pants. She never wanted to admit it, but of all the girls the witch picked, she was the one with the ideal body for having children. Her desire to be more masculine fought against her female hormones that come with pregnancy and childbirth. Part of her wanted to embrace this feminine side she had. Part of her was grateful for her feminine body shape and ability to create life.
Merlin drifted in and out of consciousness, catching snippets of conversation as he did. None of it made much sense and nothing could hold his attention for long. There was another contraction, more sleep and then yet another contraction. He would wake up while the pain gripped him and then fall back to sleep in between. He was vaguely aware of a hand in his when the pain was on him. He held onto that hand as to a lifeline as he thrashed in agony but was strangely oblivious to the person attached to the hand. It wasn’t until his pains began to come too close together for him to sleep in between that he realized the hand he’d been holding was Arthur’s. He dropped it like a hot coal when he became aware.
Sherlock's heart lept into his throat. This wasn't supposed to happen. John's due due was still three weeks away and he had already from day one made perfectly clear that he didn't want to be anywhere near when 'it' decided to make its appearance. "I...I'll drive you to St. Bart's..." he stammered, unsuccessfully hiding the trace of fear in his voice.
Huge baby, born breech, with the head stuck inside the mother. The doctors put her out and use no less than seven instruments – forceps, scalpels, scissors – to hack away at her vulva, pulling, pushing on her stomach, wrenching her legs wider until finally the head comes free. I don’t know what the doctor is doing at the end, punching his whole hand into her horribly ripped slit, but it’s for damn sure she woke up after it was all over, screaming for pain meds and unable to sit or walk for weeks!
"Her name." John explains. "Sarah and I decided that we were going to name her Nora." And he held his breath in wait of Sherlock's response. He remembered the grief that Sherlock had given him when he and Sarah were deciding on names for their son, Rory; how they couldn't have come up with something more unique. This coming from a man named Sherlock who has a brother named Mycroft... Sometimes it was nice to be normal. And darn it if he was going to let Sherlock change...
I get on my bicycle when a terrible ache increased in my lower stomach. I rubbed it to ease the pain. Ignoring it and I rode on my bicycle to the first stop. I rang the doorbell and delivered it to the gentleman that came out. I turned around to get on my bike when a sharp pain caused me to fall to my knees clutching my stomach. I moaned and breathed through the pain. After it was over, i got on my bicycle to the next stop. Meanwhile I did, I felt a burst of fluids draining from my