Twenty minutes—and three more contractions—later, Julien pulls up to the building where Doctor Benton has her office. It’s not some huge medical complex since shifters rarely need doctors and, even if they did, they could go to a human one for most things.
Obviously, that’s not something I could have done.
Elizabeth Benton isn’t even an OB, just a general practitioner—which is why I haven’t had a real ultrasound—but she was the only option. I couldn’t very well go to a human doctor and, although male omega biology might be kind of an open secret now since there was no hiding my pregnancy from the pack, I’m not so sure I trust the triumvirate after finding out about the study Doc mentioned.
Doctor Benton has really come through for us, though. She made sure she’d have everything she needed on hand when the time came, so Julien and I are quickly whisked into one of the exam rooms. Thankfully, as shifters we don’t need to worry about infection. The room doesn’t have to be completely sterile in order for Doctor Benton to perform the c-section, only clean.
Doctor Benton puts an IV in my arm and adds something to help delay the labor. Once the contractions slow, she carefully administers an epidural, then has me lie down. After pulling a thin fabric curtain across my chest to block my view of the surgical area, she gets right to work.
There’s a weird sort of pressure in my abdomen for a couple minutes, then a soft cry. Doctor Benton smiles, her warm eyes meeting mine over the top of the drape.
“It’s a boy.” She holds the baby up so we can see him.
A boy…
My eyes burn, and tears trail down my cheeks. Julien grabs my hand and squeezes, his own eyes looking watery.
We have a son.
Doctor Benton cuts the cord, briefly looks the baby over, then wraps him in a blanket and hands him to Julien. My mate curls protectively around the little bundle and hums under his breath. I about melt into a puddle at the sight.
“I just have to take care of the placenta and then I can get you sewed back up,” says the doctor, pulling my attention away from my little family.
That weird pressure returns. Then stops.
Over the edge of the drape, I see Doctor Benton’s brows draw together and my heart stutters with fear.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I ask frantically, trying to push myself up on my elbows.
At a motion from the doctor, Julien holds my shoulders down.
“Nothing’swrong,” she says. “It’s just…I wasn’t expecting twins.”
Well, shit. Neither was I.
A shaft of sunlight from the window cuts across my face, jolting me awake. I blink a few times as my groggy brain comes back online. Sleep has been hard to come by over the past few weeks since the babies were born, so it takes longer than it should for me to realize something’s wrong.
It’s way too quiet.
The twins.
They should have woken me up by now.
Suddenly I’m wide awake, panic flooding my body. I scramble out of bed, hitting the floor with a thump when the comforter tangles around my legs. Extracting myself from the bedding, I run full speed across the hall and into the nursery.
I jerk to a stop in the doorway, my racing heart slowing as I take in the scene before me.
Julien is sitting in the recliner clad only in pajama pants. He’s fast asleep with the footrest up and his head tilted backward at an awkward angle. Two empty bottles sit on the side table and my mate has one baby cradled in each arm, their little cheeks resting against the bare skin of his chest.
It might be the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. Warmth expands in my chest as I take a couple of deep, quiet breaths and push away my blind panic from a few seconds ago.
The babies are fine.Perfectly fine. Julien must have gotten up with them earlier and didn’t want to wake me getting back into bed. Because he’s amazingly thoughtful like that.
My mate is the best thing fate has ever done for me. Well, except for giving us our perfect little munchkins.
I’ll admit when Doctor Benton said the word ‘twins,’ I was terrified. I never gave much thought to being a parent. For me to not only be the person actually going through a pregnancy—something Ineverthought I’d have to do—and then having not just one, buttwobabies to take care at the end of it…
To say the idea overwhelmed me would be a major understatement.
