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.
I’m in transition for almost an hour, the contractions hard and constant. At one point they put me on oxygen because I’m hyperventilating from not remembering to breathe between screams. Then I start to feel the intense pressure of needing to push, which I do for almost forty minutes before the searing pain of my first baby’s head stretching my formerly tight hole hits me. It’s a looooong crowning, followed by stubborn shoulders that spread me so wide I could swear my pelvis is breaking.
Jared would have laughed at the irony, except the situation wasn’t funny at all. Throughout the whole pregnancy, Jared had been the calm one, the one to provide reassurances when things were going bad, the one who always knew what to say. Now when it really mattered, when the moment of truth stormed in on them, and their baby was demanding to be introduced to the world, Jared was the one freaking out and relying on Jensen for reassurance.
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
Niso shook his head quickly. "You have to push it out, the head's out Francis!" He said, reaching into the water and holding the baby's head still with one hand, his other holding Francis' swollen stomach. "Push!” "Tch..!" Francis gritted his teeth. He quickly drew breath, biting back a cry as his anal muscles contracted, sealing itself around the baby's neck.  The next time he pushed, a fresh peal of pain bloomed in his anus from when both the baby's shoulders were battering against his opening. The grip on his knees weakened as shooting pains radiated up and down his spine, his teeth baring as he pushed, hard. “Just one more..” Francis muttered darkly then heaved, feeling the baby's shoulder slide all the way out before it was followed by the rest of its body. Dazed, he fell back and panted in exhaustion. Niso quickly caught the baby and pulled it out of the water, surprised to see it didn't have an umbilical cord. He held it close to himself and looked at Francis, shock on his face that Francis had just given birth.
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.
WARNING:This short story contains some sensitive subjects. If you don't prefer Yaoi, Descriptive Sex Scenes, or Mpreg, this is not the story for you, and you have been warned. Also, if you do not like this sort of thing, I would ask you not to comment just to state this fact. Keep it to yourself, because you chose to read it, even after reading the warning.
She panted as they carried her further away from her cell. Lights on the ceiling passed until they came to a large bright room. She felt her birth canal stretching and she moaned. The child's head was pushing further and further down. She tried to spread her legs wider, but couldn't due to the men who were holding her. "Uugghhh!" She grunted against her stretching vagina and the men quickly brought her to the center of the room. They laid her upon a bed. The mattress was hard but she welcomed it. She struggled as they took her hands and bound them to the bars at her sides. Her legs were placed in stirrups and strapped. She cried out as they spread her wide with the stirrups, leaving her vagina open for all to see. A woman now appeared, much to the girl's shock, in front of her. She pushed her fingers deep into the girl's opening, rubbing the cervix, estimating how dilated she was. The girl grunted as her hand went deeper and tried to moved but was unable. The woman's fingers found the hard mass of the child's head and smiled. "It appears the infant is ready," She grinned removing herself from her vagina. Her cold eyes held her's and she let the girl know her demands, "Push."
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. 
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