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.
“Yes. I wasn’t pining for Gwen. That morning when I woke up with you wrapped around me…I realized it was really you I’d wanted all along. And I felt horrible because I knew you’d only been with me because you felt sorry for me, because you are the best friend I could ever ask for. You wouldn’t turn me away when I was hurting and it was so damn selfish but I wanted to keep you and I knew…I thought that I couldn’t.”
Merlin eyed the angled seat of the birthing stool with misgivings. Yes, he knew that it was supposed to ease a woman’s confinement but he wasn’t really a woman. Still, the child would come in much the same way. He just wasn’t sure he had the strength to endure the contractions and keep himself upright as the stool was exactly that-a stool. It had no back, no support of any kind. He knew that usually a laboring mother would lay her legs along the flared wings of the seat and rock herself back and forth until the child came but usually a midwife was there to use her body to strengthen the straining mother. Who would help him? Gaius was amazingly vigorous for a man of his age but he wasn’t really sturdy enough to take Merlin’s weight for that long.
At first it seemed like a small inconvenience; the egg will come when it is ready, perhaps the date was wrong, these things happen all the time, etc. Gladra would caress her large stomach and sing to the egg within in the hopes that maybe it coax the babe out. Toric, who had found the sight of his wife pregnant very arousing, began making love to his princess quite regularly as that was know to sometim
"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...
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.
Seeing the fluids, Niso got onto his knees and helped Francis onto his hands and knees, rubbing at his lower back after. "Breathe Francis." He mumbled, glancing at the other babies a moment before turning his attention back on Francis. "Just push like before." Niso said softly, leaning down and kissing his head lightly while he massaged Francis' back. Francis nodded shakily. He followed Niso's gaze and stared at the two slumbering babies but his heart was hollow and he felt oddly detached. Confused, he lowered his eyes and tried to concentrate on the birth instead. "Hhhnngg..!" Francis bore down on instinct, pushing and straining against the pressure inside him while he held his breath. He could feel how his loose hole opened up even more to receive the large baby as it forced its way through him, pulverizing his pelvis muscles. Howling in pain, Francis thrust his hips with a sharp jerk and raised his ass higher in the air. Straining hard, he dropped his forehead to rest against his forearms, grunting terribly as the baby slid deeper down his rectum. The level of pain he was enduring defied the normal limits of what a human body was meant to withstand.
He screamed bloody murder, unaware of any coherent words coming out of his mouth or the work his body was unconsciously doing, until he felt a sharp pop. He heard Jason telling him the head was out but didn’t have time to react before the shoulders were forcing their way into the world as well and it took all of his strength not to pass out on the spot.