Like a turtle on its back, Jensen was stuck on the floor. He’d squatted down to pick something up, was thrown off balance by their huge monstrosity of a dog, Harley, and when he tried to catch himself, his hand slipped on the tile. Jensen ended up flat on his back on the floor with Harley licking his face. If he really wanted to try, Jensen was sure he could get up, but decided just to lay there instead, just for a few moments until he could muster enough energy to pull himself up. Two minutes turned into twenty and Jensen was still lying on the floor weighing the pros and cons of staying there and waiting for Jared to find him, or attempting to try now to get up.
Niso nodded as he held the baby up and was grabbing one of the towels he'd brought from the bathroom, cleaning it off. "It's out Francis, it's out." He said, looking up at the younger male. "Is that...is that all of them?" Niso asked meekly, swallowing a lump in his throat. He doubted Francis was up for another birth. He laid the baby once it was cleaned and wrapped up with it's siblings, looking over the little babies before he turned his attention back on Francis again. "Oh, thank goodness." Francis hung his head and grunted tiredly. His fingers trailed over his newly deflated stomach and pressed just above his pubic bone, feeling for any hardness. "I-I think so." When Francis found none he shook his head. A soft sigh escaped his mouth as he crawled over to Niso and laid his head in his lap, hands reaching out to clutch at the older male's shirt. After a few seconds, the young man broke down, sobbing quietly. He was utterly exhausted, his body physically spent of energy.
“Thanks,” he gratefully sighed as Jared helped him wiggle his way out of his sopping wet sweatpants and underwear. He’d barely been in the rain, but it was enough to have left him soaked. Jensen raised his arms, and Jared pulled his shirt over his head, helping him struggle into the dry one, once he was completely naked. “Can you grab the pillows off the couch, and the blanket?”
Amy found it harder and harder to keep her masculine side intact. Her voice had raised and she was now moaning in pain with every push. She breathed heavily as she continued. She wanted this to end. She was tired of letting Leshia be her midwife and allow her to see everything that was going on down there. She wanted to give birth alone, but Leshia was too worried and wouldn’t allow it.
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
My most recent fantasy involves twilight sleep, a horrible practice from the 1950’s and 60’s where women were given a mix of drugs during labor and delivery that made them forget the whole experience. It was said to relieve pain but, in fact, the women were suffering natural labor and delivery, just too drugged out of their minds up to make any sense out of the whole thing.