The word labor accelerated my thought process, and I wondered if we had time to practice the breathing techniques we should have been doing for months, instead of haphazardly rehearsing for the birth.
“Labor,” I panted. “Labor. The baby wants to be born.” It was four weeks early, but I had it together enough not to point that out to my mate. What did I do first? Help Rawling into the shower? Call my folks? Get Mrs. Ardilla?
But my wolf pointed out I could do two things at the same time, and I elected to get my mate into the bathroom while calling Mrs. Ardilla. I removed Rawling’s damp clothes and got him under the water while I had the phone tucked under my ear.
Mrs. Ardilla told me not to worry. Rawling was young and healthy. Like me, she didn’t point out the obvious, which was that my parents had prepared for minor hiccups by purchasing equipment and supplies which I’d deemed over the top.
“But as the baby is early, I’m going to call a professor who’s an MD from the Department of Biological Sciences on campus, Professor Barclay, and have him attend the birth.”
Oh shoot. I didn’t like that she thought the baby might experience some problems. But having a doctor here would be reassuring.
“I need to walk or maybe squat or sit or something.” Rawling was in so much pain tears rolled over his cheeks.
We paced over the floor, but he only took two steps before his body cramped. Between contractions, I called Jack, but she didn’t pick up, so I texted,Baby coming.
My parents were already in the car and on their way here before I ended their call.
“Phelan, I don’t know that I can do this.” My mate shrieked, and I held him as another cramp gripped his belly. He almost pitched forward, saying his head was spinning, but I held himsteady. He was very pale, but he’d hardly been outside in the past month, so maybe I was imagining his skin being more translucent than earlier this morning. I dampened a rag and wiped the sweat that was dotting his brow.
This was a grown-up world I hadn’t experienced, and no amount of breathing exercises would have prepared me for it.
Mrs. Ardilla bustled in and told me to wait in the other room while she examined Rawling. That was a little odd, because up until now, she’d been our house mother, but my mate didn’t seem to care and he was the one giving birth.
When she reappeared, she took me aside, saying the labor was progressing quickly and the constructions were intense. “Rawling will need all your support.”
I got my mate onto the exercise ball as Mrs. Ardilla suggested, and he rocked back and forth with me beside him, making sure he didn’t topple off. His head lolled to one side and he cried that he was being split in two.
Jack arrived, and she was drenched since she’d been at soccer practice.
“There’s already minor flooding in town, and there’s no sign of the storm easing.” She dried her hair with a towel and kneeled beside my mate. “You’re amazing.”
“Get me off this damned thing.”
Jack and I helped my mate to stand, but he didn’t want to walk or lie down. He wanted the baby out, and he howled against my chest. I’d never felt so helpless. Rubbing his back and whispering words of encouragement were so ineffectual when Rawling was bringing our child into the world.
Jack glanced at my face and squeezed my hand. I mouthed, “Professor Barclay is on his way,” and she nodded. She’d never agreed with Rawling just having Mrs. Ardilla attend the birth.
Rawling screamed and insisted he had to push. That was good. Pushing would get the baby out, and he could rest and recover.
My mate clung to me, his strength ebbing from his body as his hands trembled and his legs gave way. We got him onto the birthing bed in the living area where we were surrounded by medical equipment. All the medical supplies both eased my nerves a tad and freaked me out.
Rawling was on hands and knees, but he was shaking so badly, we got him onto his back. Jack supported my mate on one side with me on the other, while Mrs. Ardilla urged Rawling to push during the contractions.
“This is killing me,” he wailed.
“I can see the head. Baby’s almost here.” Mrs Ardilla’s voice shook, and I shot her a glance. Had we made the wrong decision by having Rawling give birth here?
Rawling’s screams surrounded us and some slipped out the window and echoed in the turret above us so the shrieks were multiplied. My mate was pleading with me to take the baby out, and my wolf was pushing for me to do something, but what? Should we call an ambulance? I watched videos of births, but how was I to gauge when my mate needed to be in the hospital? And I wasn’t sure anyone could reach the school with the rain and subsequent flooding.
“The head is almost out. That’s the hardest part. A few more pushes.” Mrs. Ardilla was encouraging Rawling, and I was breathing and pushing with him, but seeing him in so much agony was unbearable. Was this my fault somehow, getting him pregnant at nineteen?
“Push, Rawling,” Mrs. Ardilla yelled, and Jack and I shared a glance.
I kept telling myself the baby would be here within minutes and everything would be fine. It had to be. I had two people to worry about now.
Rawling screamed, and I vowed I’d never put him through this again. No more children if this was what he had to endure. My wolf was curled up inside me shaking because each scream was a dagger to his heart.
“The baby’s head is out.”
