Epilogue
Kip
Not many parents got to pick the exact moment their children entered the world.
Lucky me.
At approximately five hundred weeks pregnant and weighing the same as a school bus full of high school football players, it was time to admit defeat. This baby was not coming out on his own. Nature wasn’t going to take its course, and we needed modern medicine to intervene.
“We can schedule your C-section for today at three or four? Which would you prefer?”
I sat in the doctor’s office. The actual examination part had concluded, and now we were just talking. Braxton sat next to me, his hand in mine.
“The sooner the better, Doc. I don't really see how one hour will make much of a difference?” he said.
He was being way nicer than I was feeling. In the last few days, I had gone from slightly uncomfortable, to barely able to walk through a doorway. My hips had stretched, and I was experiencing a pain that was referred to as the “ring of fire,” and fuck whoever came up with that name.
“Kip, what are your thoughts?”
What a silly thing to ask. It was an hour difference. What did it matter? Why were we even being given a choice? I had so many more important things to decide.
“Assuming that a C-section right now is out of the question, I would prefer the earlier option,” I said.
Also, I deserve a fucking medal for being so professional when right now, I was ready to perform the surgery myself to get things moving.
“All right then, I’ll let the nurse know and we’ll see you back here around noon.”
“Thanks, Doc.” Braxton helped me to my feet and guided me out of the office. I smiled and waved at the receptionist as we walked out.
It wasn’t until we got into the truck that I fell apart.
“I just want to have this baby today!” Tears pooled in my eyes despite my best effort to stop them.
“I know. And you will.”
“But not for several hours! Brax, I want to have this child now.”
Braxton sighed, and a look of helplessness filled his face. His brow pinched tight, his lips pursed. “I know, my love. I wish I could do something to help.”
“Maybe we can do something to keep us distracted. We have a few hours before we have to be back here. I can’t possibly sleep, so do not suggest that I nap.”
“Kip, would you like to go fishing with me?”
I grinned. A real one, no fake happiness for me right now.
“Yes, mate. I would love to go fishing with you.”
Our house was clean, our hospital bag packed and already in the truck.
Not that we would actually need a whole bag.
Even with a C-section, I would be sent home that day thanks to our shifter healing.
We had been so ready to have this baby today that we just assumed we wouldn’t have all this time on our hands.
“Let’s go.”
Normally, we would just walk to the pond where the best fishing was. This time we drove. It was bumpier than what I preferred, but at least I wasn’t walking.
The drive to our usual spot took twenty minutes, every bump in the road a small torture. Braxton drove like he was transporting nitroglycerine, which honestly wasn’t far off from how I felt; one wrong jostle and I might explode. That would be one way to get this birth kicked into high gear.
The pond appeared through the trees, sunlight dancing across its surface. September had painted the surrounding maples in early shades of orange and gold. Braxton backed right up to the edge, probably so I wouldn’t have to walk far.
Getting out of the truck was its own adventure. Braxton rushed around to help, but I waved him off, determined to maintain some shred of dignity. By the time my feet hit the ground, I was breathing like I’d run a marathon.
Shifting this close to giving birth provided some comfort. It seemed as if my bear body accommodated a pregnant belly better than my human one.
Braxton kept a close eye on me, and once I was fully in my bear form, walking on all fours, he finally shifted.
I nuzzled against him once he was in his fur.
He was magnificent in this form. Twice my size, but he had the most adorable bear ears.
I couldn’t help myself, I pushed myself onto my back legs so I could take a little nip of his ear.
He let me. Usually, this type of thing would turn into a playfight and a wrestling match, but today, he let me do whatever I wanted.
It wasn’t long before I couldn’t stand on my back feet and I had to let go.
Once Braxton was free, he led us to the water’s edge. I let my body slide into the cool water. The back pain that plagued my human form melted away. Perhaps I could stay like this until my C-section was over. Was Doc opposed to doing a C-section in my bear form?
The time passed quickly, which was the whole point of this trip.
Before I knew it, we had a pile of fish, mostly provided by my talented mate. It was time to go to our appointment. This was our last excursion with just the two of us. After today, there would be three.
I shifted back to my human form, and Braxton did the same.
“Ready to go our meet our son?”
I smiled and nodded, letting Brax pull me into his arms and give me a long kiss.
“Me too,” he said.
Hours later, we were once again getting out of the truck. Much like when we returned from vacation, I was riding in the back. not because I was hiding, but because I was keeping a very close eye on the precious cargo that was strapped into his car seat.
“How is Lucas doing?” Braxton asked.
“He’s sleeping,” I said.
Braxton got out of the truck, then helped me out. I followed him into the house. He carried the car seat, while I was empty-handed.
My body had healed from the C-section, thanks to our shifter blood, but I was still sore, and my center of gravity was all off.
We stepped through the door, and the house felt different. Same furniture, same photographs on the walls, same scuffed hardwood floors—but everything had shifted. The air itself seemed to hold its breath.
Braxton set the carrier down gently on the coffee table, his movements careful and reverent. Lucas continued sleeping, oblivious to the momentous occasion of his homecoming. His tiny fists were curled near his face, and even in sleep, his nose would occasionally wrinkle.
“He does that thing you do,” Braxton whispered, pointing at our son’s scrunched nose.
“What thing?”
“That nose scrunch when you’re thinking hard about something.”
I studied Lucas’s face. “He’s a newborn. He’s not thinking about anything.”
“Maybe he’s dreaming about fish.” Braxton grinned, and I couldn’t help but smile back.
“Should we wake him?” I asked.
“Goddess, no.” Braxton looked genuinely horrified. “The nurse said never wake a sleeping baby. Those were her exact words. She was very serious about it.”
“She said a lot of things.” My head was still spinning with instructions about feeding schedules and diaper changes and things to watch for.
It all seemed so much more complicated than catching fish.
I knew that my family and Brax’s would be around a lot to help, in fact it was very likely that they would be here within an hour or so, now that they knew we were home.
Even the Alpha would come to visit the newest member of the den.
Braxton moved behind me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, and we both stood there, staring at the tiny person we’d made. Our son. Lucas.
“We’re parents,” I said, the words feeling strange in my mouth.
“We’re parents,” Braxton echoed, his voice full of wonder.
Lucas stirred slightly, making a small sound like a kitten’s mew, and we both froze. But he settled back into sleep, and we exhaled together. We were a complete family now. The three of us.