I’m a young, first time mom, heavily pregnant with triplets. I arrive at the hospital in early labor, deposit my husband in the waiting room, and am shaved, given an enema, and catheterized before any medication is administered. Once the meds start to take effect, my legs are strapped into stirrups and my arms tied to the side of the bed. For the next twenty hours, I writhe and scream in agony as the contractions get increasingly stronger. It feels like by body is being ripped apart but I’m too out of it to remember my own name, much less than I’m pregnant and in labor. The nurses mostly ignore my crying and moaning, casually chatting about their weekend plans as they make sure my restraints are still in place despite my desperate bucking. 
The head popped out and she pulled against her bindings as the shoulder stretched her even further. She whimpered, laying heavily upon the mattress. Seeing the girl's strength leaving her the woman unwrapped the cord from the infant's head and grabbed it's neck. She began pulling the babe up and down, furthering it down the birth canal. The girl panted as the woman did so. "Oh! Oh!" She cried, feeling the infant move within her. Unable to fight she groans as the shoulders divide her more. With a scream the child is renched out, allowing the remaining fluid to expel from her. Her opening burns and is still freely bleeding when the woman cradles the infant. She smiles, discovering the sex and holds it up for the others to see, careful of the cord. "Male!" she exclaims and the men cheer. The infant wails as it's placed upon the new mother to be cleaned. She could only lay and pant in exhaustion as the woman smiled upon her. "You did well," she congratulates her, "Definitely a keeper."
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.

Francis bit his lips, shaking his head. "..No," he answered truthfully. His whole entire backside ached and he was also having difficulty regaining breath, his swollen womb was placing too much pressure on his diaphragm. Groaning, Francis rubbed one hand over his stomach and held the other to the middle of his back where the pain was strongest. Whining and groaning, he rested his chin against Niso's shoulder. "I think..I wanna get out..c-change positions.."Niso nodded and looked down at him, wrapping his arms around him to help him up. "Alright, back to the bed?" He asked softly, helping to lift Francis up out of the tub. He could tell from the swell of Francis' stomach that the younger male wasn't done, and he cringed at the thought that Francis might not have the motivation to keep pushing. Francis pressed his lips together. "Y-Yeah. But hurry, I can feel it moving down.." He let Niso help him to his feet, swaying a little as he spread his legs and shuffled towards the bedroom, his waddle especially pronounced now. A new bolt of pain laced through him each time his hips were jostled. They were barely to the bed when another contraction tore down his lower back and abdomen, forcing a surprised cry from his lips. His legs trembled and he practically fell into Niso's arms.
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.
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