May's Delays, Part V
WARNING - this story is not medically realistic, and none of the actions in it are medically advisable. This is a work of fiction, and nothing in it should be emulated. Attempting any of the things depicted in this work of fiction would be extremely dangerous, with the potential for serious injury or death.
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It was Angela, the woman who had shared a due date with May. Out of all the women who had signed up for the video shoot, they were tied for the honour of being the most overdue. Whereas May had a toned, athletic physique and short, asymmetrical hair, Angela was more classically feminine. Before she had become pregnant, she had had an hourglass figure. Now, between her wide hips and large chest, an almost impossibly enormous belly stretched her blue denim overalls tight. Her pale face, accented here and there with freckles, was beautifully framed by her long, wavy red hair. "Is she alright?" Angela asked, looking past me. I turned, my eyes again falling upon May, who lay struggling on the examination table.
May grunted and heaved herself into a semi-seated position. "Hey girl," she managed with a weary smile. "Doing great. Just trying not to pop." "Oh no - you're in labour too?" Angela asked as she rubbed her own massive middle. "Nothing I can't handle", May breathed, another bead of sweat dripping down her face. "You're having contractions?" I asked my new visitor. "Yeah, for a couple hours at least. I thought they were Braxton-Hicks, but they're getting closer together nowâŚ"
This was bad. Angela and May were not only the most overdue - their exceptionally prolonged pregnancies had given them the two biggest bellies out of anyone in the cast for the music video. Last time they had measured, their bellies had been within an inch of each other in size. They were supposed to be the stars. Losing May's belly before the shoot would be bad enough, but now Angela was labouring as well. I had been working with both women for weeks as they sailed past their shared due date. These bellies were supposed to be the highlights of the video - absolute pinnacles of pregnancy. The bellies belonged to the women, of course, but I had been watching them grow and ensuring they didn't pop for so long, I admit that I felt possessive and protective of these gloriously distended wombs. Like I was an artist who had helped cultivate these beautiful living sculptures. Without me - my expertise and effort - both women would have given birth long ago. The massive, low, round, heaving bellies that I saw before me in my examination room would be flat and flabby right now if it weren't for me. And these two women would be exhausted new mothers. When she popped, May would instantly lose her status as one of the most in-demand models in the country. I might not have gotten them pregnant, but I had kept them pregnant. Their bellies had reached this incredible size because of me. They were one day short of 43 weeks because of me.
As crazy as it sounds, in that moment, facing such an awful situation, I felt that it was all enormously unfair. The three of us were being robbed - robbed by time, by biology, by the laws of physics. My friends would be robbed of their opportunities to star in the video. The video would be robbed of its stars. And I would be robbed of these incredibly pregnant bellies. Two of the biggest, most beautiful, most spectacular bellies the world had ever seen. These living works of art were on the verge of failing. When they did, I would never again be able to hold them. There would be plenty of photos and videos immortalizing these remarkable pregnancies, but I would never again feel the pleasant weight of May's overdue womb resting in my hands. Never again trace the smooth, soft curvature of Angela's belly as it rested on her thighs, practically overflowing her lap. Never again feel May playfully push her bulging middle against me during a goodbye hug. Never again would I see how Angela's taught stomach shifted upward when an unexpected contraction hit.
"You'd better check her", May said, snapping me back to the present. I hadn't noticed that she had managed to walk to my side. I was alarmed to see her on her feet. Any exertion certainly couldn't be helping her situation. "May! You shouldn't be up. You're-" "I'm fine," she panted. "You already know what's up with me. Check on Angela." Moments ago, May had been nearly overwhelmed by the urge to push, but now, she was downplaying her situation. Maybe it was because she was concerned for Angela and wanted to put the other woman first, or maybe she just wanted to put on a brave face. Perhaps she was embarrassed that Angela had stumbled upon her in such a vulnerable state - sweaty, barely clothed, writhing on her back on the exam bed, struggling to maintain control of her own body. Perhaps standing up, hiding her discomfort, and shifting my attention toward Angela was a way for her to take back some dignity and control in the situation. May seemed to need attention more than Angela, but I wasn't going to argue. I got Angela to lay down. She unbuttoned her overalls and pulled down the front flap, then pulled up the white t-shirt beneath them, exposing a belly that I had come to know well over the last weeks. It had been two days since I had seen Angela, but it seemed that she had grown since then. I began exploring the smooth, pale dome. She was the same size as May, and like May's belly, hers was low, heavy, and showing all the tell-tale signs that she was beyond ready to pop. When her next contraction hit, I could tell that it wasn't a Braxton-Hicks. Angela was clearly in active labor, but not as far along as May. Still, if we didn't do anything, I estimated that she would probably only remain pregnant for several more hours. I gave May a quick glance, but she pointed back to Angela, apparently still thinking I should be focused on the newcomer rather than her.
"Alright," I said with a sigh. "I won't sugar-coat this. It's bad. You're both extremely overdue. You are both way beyond ready to pop. Both of your wombs have been trying to give birth for weeks. And now you are both in active labor. I don't know how much time we can buy here." "But - but the video tomorrow," Angela said, sounding sad. "We're so close! Are you saying we can't make it?" "Well, I'm going to make it," May said, sounding totally self-assured in spite of everything. Her cheeks were flushed, her chest was rising and falling as she breathed heavily, and yet, she managed to project an air of confidence. I told Angela to stay where she was and took May into the next room for a moment. "What's changed?" I asked her. "Have your contractions backed off? You went from looking like you were about to pop to now sounding like you're fine". "No, the contractions are the same," May admitted, "but you know me - I'll never give up. I can keep resisting the urge to push. My belly, my choice, you know? Besides, I just⌠I didn't want to look scared or weak in front of Angela. If I give up, I bet she will too. She... has never been quite as determined or as confident as I am. No offense to her." "Hmm. Maybe you two can motivate each other," I mused. May laughed. "I can try! I'll give her as many pep talks as she needs." She then grimaced and bent forward as another contraction began to gather strength in her overburdened womb. I placed my hands on the squeezing sphere. "Remember when I told you about what happened with Monica the other day?" "Mm-hm," May managed, breathing through the surge. "What about her?" "Remember that reflex of the womb I told you about? When a woman loses control of her body and starts pushing hard, totally involuntarily? It happened to Monica." "Right, I remember," May replied, standing up straight despite her contraction not being finished. "I fear that you are getting very close to experiencing that reflex yourself. You can only resist labor for so long before it happens." "But you said Monica made it through that without popping, right?" "Yes, she's the first woman I have ever seen withstand it. It was quite incredible to see her pull through. But she popped minutes later." "Because she decided to stop fighting, if I recall your story correctly. So she proved that even that reflex doesn't always break a woman's waters. She resisted, and it worked. But after that, she felt tired and hopeless or whatever and gave up, right? Well, if I get that stupid reflex and lose control of my womb, I'll just cross my legs until it passes. Besides, you know I've been taking vitamins to stop my waters from breaking. That membrane must be crazy strong after all the supplements I took. And I have incredible self-control, so I don't believe my body could even really go out of control like that anyway." "I think you're underestimating the seriousness of the situation," I responded. "Every contraction is involuntary, right? Your body is already doing things you can't fully control. If you were calling the shots, you wouldn't be in active labor at all." May looked right into my eyes and gave me a tired, slightly mischievous smile. Her cheeks were red from hours of exertion, and her dark, glossy hair was slightly disarrayed. "My belly, my choice," she repeated. "I will not pop before the big shoot tomorrow. I simply won't let it happen. Besides," she added, stepping forward and pressing her distended middle against me, "I know you won't let me pop either. I know you love this belly as much as I do. I know you want this to last as long as possible. So let's both work hard to keep me big and round and pregnant, ok?"















