You're too ripe, my baby pushing your body past it's limits. The three we already have were adding to your exhaustion. They demand your attention all throughout the day as the one in your womb keeps you up with aches and contractions all night. I'm working overtime to make extra money before this one arrives, so I haven't been much help with the kids but I do what I can when I'm home.
The oldest two run up to me and latch onto my legs, giggling wildly. Their laughter is contagious and I scoop them into my large arms before making my way over to you. On the sofa, you nurse our third and I lean down to place a kiss on your lips. You look and feel ike a zombie, but you do your best to smile and return it.
Our next is nested between your thighs, huge and ready to be born any day. I wasted no time knocking you up after your previous birth. Keeping you big with babies was my top priority, and you were almost too good at it despite the pain and misery.
All of our children were born without the need for medical intervention. Our first came unassisted in our bed with a midwife present. The second, in the car on our way back from the mall. You dropped the third on the kitchen floor as I was out cutting the grass. She gave you no time to grab me before spilling out into the world.
But this one. This one worried your doctor. It was big. Too big, she feared. She recommend being induced with a heavily assisted hospital birth at the very least but told us that a c-section would be her preferred method for getting this one out. For weeks, we argued over whether you'd have the baby at home or at the hospital. Your fears grew exponentially as your due date came and went with the baby showing no signs of slowing its growth.
But I knew you could do it. I've seen you bring three children into the world with minimal help so far, and this one would be no different. I pleaded with you to have this one at home because if I was being completely honest, seeing you birth my babies like an animal turned me on like nothing else.
I relished every thing from the discomfort to the contractions to your bag of waters giving in to the stress of fighting to contain my load. And the sounds you made when active labor took over your poor body sent waves of electricity from my brain to my cock. Hearing you strain around solid heads and broad shoulders was the ultimate reward for me slamming into your cervix until it took my seed.
This birth would be the most difficult so far, without a doubt. And I didn't want it to be ruined for me by invasive doctors or worse, a c-section.
It helped that I had you wrapped around my finger. Despite your protests and desire to drop at a hospital, I knew you would cave as soon as I countered your arguments. You were obedient, and if I wanted you to have this baby at home, you were having this baby at home no matter what the doctors recommended.
Two and a half weeks passed since your scheduled induction date. Your doctor called and left voice mail messages expressing concern for your condition, and every time you'd look at me with those big, fearful eyes. I reassured you that the baby would be fine, and will come when they're ready as their siblings did. You reluctantly gave in, but in the back of your mind you knew this baby would have you screaming for an epidural.
Two and a half weeks and I could see it in your eyes, your movements, your demeanor. You were beyond ready to pop. I bathed our oldest two and put them to bed before removing the one from your breast and doing the same. I returned to the living room where you remained glued to the sofa with your belly sagging between your legs, eyes closed as you shifted to relive your hips of some pain. I always wondered how it felt for you towards the end, especially for this pregnancy. I checked you days ago, and could feel the hardness of the head pushing down on your poor cervix that had only dilated two centimeters. It was significantly bigger than our other three and I knew it merely sitting there was taking it's toll.
I could look at you and tell it was time for another check. You were in the middle of a contraction when I approached the sofa. My cock twitched at the square shape of your belly as it tightened around our baby and the way you moaned through it. I watched as you sat there on the very cusp of delivery. As excited as I was to hear you scream around the head of my child, I craved seeing you in such discomfort.
"Let me check." I was eager for what I might feel when I pressed my fingers to your cervix.
I tugged at the hem of your sweatpants and the smell of birth hit me. My brow furrowed as my hand dipped into your underwear and felt a pad. By now, you were leaned back with one hand tugging at the bottom of your swell to give me access to your entrance. You noticed my confusion.
"My water's leaking. Think my bag tore."
My cock swelled even more. You were so close. So utterly close to popping and great with child. I genuinely had no idea how you made it this far but I was grateful. I felt around and took note of just how soaked and heavy the pad felt.
"Babe, I think it's full."
You shrugged and spread your legs a bit more, wincing as you did so. As soon as my fingers entered, your body tensed up and you placed a hand on my arm to keep me from going any further. I felt water trickling around my fingers. You writhed in desperation for some sort of relief but found none. Your grip on my arm loosened and I pressed further, feeling the bulge of your sack dipping through your cervix that was now eight centimeters dilated. You must've been in labor since you woke up but with how many false alarms we've had so far, you didn't think any of the contractions you felt were the real thing. You kept telling yourself that they'd stop at some point.
"Oh sweetheart." My voice dripped with sympathy. "It's almost time."
"Can we go to the hospital?" You pleaded with pain etched into your face. "I need to go tonight, please. This baby. I can't. It's not like the others, I want a c-section. I need it."
No. I refused to give in even though I was becoming a bit concerned about the size of the child as well. But if it came to it, I'd call an ambulance if it was needed. ONLY if it was needed.
"You'll work the baby out here, I know you will."
You visibly deflated with a sigh at my rejection of your request. And a second later, your belly went tight. But you poor thing. You were so exhausted you could hardly react. The only thing you could do was slump over onto your side and prop one leg up on the sofa to give the big head as much room as possible in your narrow pelvis. I knew you were in the midst of birth even if you didn't fully realize it yet.
Or maybe you did, because with the contraction came a light urge to push that you gave in to. I watched as your body heaved involuntarily every few seconds. Your eyes were closed and you were breathing deeply from your nostrils. It was too early for you to push, but you weren't doing it hard enough for me to be worried. I knew it was your body fighting for a sliver of relief by bringing the baby down further.
"There you go." I whispered as you remained lost in your own world of minuscule pushes that set me on fire. You didn't do this with the other babies. They weren't so burdensome that your body felt like it had to. "Bring it down. Push. Push. That's it."
"I think–" you paused to give a quick grunt on the final push as the contraction ended "–I think I'm in labor."
I rubbed your belly which was rock solid and deformed even without contractions. The latest one had you squirting water as you pushed. The pad you wore overflowed and you now sat with wet pants and a small stain on our sofa.
"You need to get me to the bathroom. I think my water's about to pop."
I helped you stand ever so slowly. You groaned when all of the baby's weight pressed down hard and your breath caught in your throat when you felt wetness run down your legs.
"Oh." You pressed a hand between your legs like you were trying to keep the fluid from rushing out of your opening. And suddenly, I watched you awkwardly dart as fast as you could down the hall. A trail of water followed you from the living room to the master bath and I was close behind.
I had to admit, this was a new highlight for me. Seeing your feeble attempt to power walk while squeezing your opening so you didn't leak all over our brand new carpet. And you failed at that but I wasn't angry because of how excited it made me. I put that baby in you. The heavy baby that scared doctors with how big it was and threatened to pop you all over the floor as it's head battered your poor cervix. I'm the reason why you're begging your waters to hold on just a second longer until you make it to the bathroom so you could give in to the . I did this to you. And by God, I hoped to do it again after you dropped this burden.
"Oh, hold on please." You pleaded with your body as you walked. A slightly bigger gush came out from under your hand through the sweatpants with the bathroom door in sight. "I'm almost there, baby. I'm almost..."
I ran ahead to open the doors before you could stumble inside. As soon as you did, it was like your body knew and your sack gave the second your foot hit the tile. You stood there, one hand on the wall with the other holding the bottom of your belly. We both waited in silence while your bag drained and soon all that came were tiny streams of water, which was good enough for us.
We both knew what was coming now that your water was out of the way. The next contraction reared its ugly head and you fell into my arms. I held you in a standing position. Gravity was the only way you'd be getting this one out. Your nostrils flared and you gave me a pitiful look before fully giving in to the urge to push with every ounce of energy that remained, which wasn't much.
The sound I'd been waiting for, for months escaped your throat and I nearly came right there.
The real fun had just begun.
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