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
When he woke, he was back in Arthur’s bed. He opened his eyes and glanced around. He wanted his son, the urge to hold him, to see him, was overwhelming. Before he could begin to panic though, his eyes fell on the cradle beside the bed, and he leaned over the side in order to get his first glimpse. All he could see was a tuft of golden hair and a wrinkled little face. He nearly fell off the bed trying to scramble out of it.
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.
The sunlight shone into a deep green bedroom, from the floor to the bedspread and the walls around them. Amidst them rose a high hill, shifting around slightly. But the sheets slid down, revealing the hill to be a very pregnant womb, stretched to the limits by four babies, healthy and ready to be born any day now according to the last appointment. In fact, the doctor was impressed Clare had been able to carry them so long, considering she was at the equivalent of a little over 9 months for quadruplets and she was warned to take it easy, and not do anything especially strenuous, which she reluctantly agreed to, usually a very active person. But this morning, she was filled with more energy than usual, hefting herself out of bed with a grunt and waddling as quickly as she could to pee, the babies pressing hard on her bladder as expected, taking up so much space in her as they did. Afterwards, she checked the clock, seeing that she still had a few hours before dinner and decide
"Lay one of the towels...on the floor..." was the next instruction from John, his breathing deepening as the next urges started to build. Sherlock had just managed to spread the towel out when John could no longer fight and gave into the urge to push, his body on autopilot now as it directed his actions. Instinctively, his hands reached for Sherlock's arms and sensing that this was what John needed now more than anything, he allowed John's fingers to squeeze painfully tight into his shoulders. John's green eyes then match up with his own gray ones and lock, showing unrelenting focus for nearly a full minute as he forced the baby further down.
“I know and I’m sorry for that. I’d never have hurt you, Merlin. I was…well, I was in shock. And yes, I was angry. You told me you hadn’t ever planned to tell me about the baby. You weren’t ever going to tell me I had a son. I mean, I was mad about the lies and the magic but it really hurt that you were planning to never tell me that you were having my baby.”
When the pool was finally filled, the taps shut off automatically, and Laura began undressing herself. She dropped her sweatpants and wet panties to the ground and pulled her white shirt off. She left her bra on to keep her swollen breasts from sagging onto her belly. She slowly went down the steps into the water, clutching her belly. She wasn’t nervous about giving birth alone, since she found herself immune to pain her whole life, though, she had to admit, these contr
Staring at the tiny being in his hands, Sherlock seemed in shock, almost unsure of what he had just witnessed. Then as its face scrunched and let out a tiny cry, he could feel his breath catch. She was actually here. The thing that Sarah and John had made together, that once gray bean in the sonogram photo on Mrs. Hudson's fridge, the creation that had sent John into the most interesting cravings and mood swings (he had analyzed every single one), was a living, breathing person...