She wiggles her hips from side-to-side, groaning. “I meant that I think I’m done having kids.”
“Yeah, dumbass, keep up,” Patrick says.
“That’s okay,” I assure Charlotte, rubbing her lower back. “Two kids are plenty.”
The contraction intensifies, spilling through the bond, and I suck in a sharp breath.
“Fuck me,” Patrick groans.
“They are getting significantly stronger,” Cormac says, moving his hands to rub his lumbar region. “Are you sure we shouldn’t head back to the bed?”
“Hell no,” Charlotte snaps. “I’m not being trapped in that thing. It’s better to move around.”
“We follow your lead.” I smile tightly, spreading my feet apart.
My fucking balls feel like they’re about to burst, but I know better than to complain.
Charlotte’s doctor warned us that, with a bond, we would experience about twenty percent pain crossover. If she’s still vertical while feelingfive timesmore agony than this, I’m keeping my damn mouth closed.
Whoever tried to sell the lie that women are the weaker sex clearly never experienced contractions through a bond.
I love the hell out of Charlotte. She blows me away on a daily basis, and somehow I still have an entirely new level of respect for my wife. She willingly put herself through pregnancy, knowing she would have to experience labor. It’s a fucking wonder our species hasn’t gone extinct. I wouldn’t blame women for having one child and refusing to have more.
Even with the mental preparation, it’s still significantly worse than I expected.
If I was the one who set up how bonds work, I would have had each connection bear twenty percent of the actual pain, instead of only feeling the traces through our connection. That way, each of us could take twenty percent away from Charlotte rather than her feeling every bit of this.
I can’t imagine why the universe would let us feel a small portion of her misery without allowing us to alleviate any of her pain.
She’s right.
Two kids are more than enough.
I’m not putting her through this again.
Charlotte eventually decides she wants the epidural. Apparently during her labor with Lucky, she got it too soon, and it started to wear off as she was pushing. That’s a truly horrifying thought.
Thankfully, she’s in much better spirits once the medication kicks in. Her contractions slow down for an hour, but they pick back up again, and things move quickly.
A new nurse joins the first, the bottom of the bed gets changed out, and they have Charlotte scoot down to start pushing.
Is it even safe to push without the doctor present?
“Come on, Dad,” the nurse says, smiling. “You can hold this leg.”
Jesus.
I guess we’re really doing this.
I am not a badass when it comes to holding our daughter for the first time. Tears leak from my eyes, and my whole body shakes as I cradle her to my chest.
She’s so fecking small.
Tiny and breakable and perfect.
Holy shit.
I have a whole new appreciation for how easy it was to take over caring for Lukas. He was able to talk, mostly feed himself, and came pretty much potty trained.
