45. Piper
Piper
S leeping when you were a million months pregnant was actually quite difficult.
Every position I rolled onto—my back hurt or my bump was uncomfortable. My nest now had such a variety of pillows that I had tried every combination known to man. Pillows under the knees, pillows in between the knees, pillows behind my back.
Sometimes I simply slept on my alphas.
They were far from squishy but surprisingly comfortable.
Only now, I was so far along, everything hurt.
Even though I’d had a wonderful time at the fair, my back had twitched the entire evening.
I had been tossing and turning for a while when a particularly odd squeeze in my side jolted me fully awake. Sitting up, I groaned, clutching at my stomach.
Was it time?
Clay and Zeke were piled into the nest with me. Grimacing, I hauled myself out of bed and padded toward the bathroom, hissing as the pressure on my cervix settled again, thanks to gravity. I stood there for a few moments. Nothing was happening. It’d been just a squeeze. It was probably nothing.
I went back to the bed and tried to get comfortable again, which of course was damn near impossible.
After an unknown length of time, that squeeze came back, a sensation like my muscles were flexing without me having to tell them to.
I flipped over my phone and looked at the time. Three-thirty in the morning.
Hmm…okay. Well, I guess we’ll just see if anything happens.
I dozed on and off, and then it happened again. I looked at the clock. Three-forty-one. And the other one had been after roughly ten minutes too. God, and that made three of them.
Was that a pattern?
Pressure. That was the only way I could really describe the sensation.
Like my stomach, or I guess uterus, was hugging in on itself, and when the baby moved, it felt like they were complaining about the lack of room.
I was only a small omega, and I had decided to have babies with four gigantic alphas—the math wasn’t mathing.
It seemed too soon to say anything to the guys, but that was three squeezes, each about ten minutes apart. I hadn’t had any Braxton-Hicks contractions, so I wasn’t sure if these were that or if they might be more. Whatever the case, I was too awake now, and I needed to tire myself out again.
I got up, going to the bathroom because, of course, now that my brain was churning, I had to pee. Typical . Unfortunately for me, I had some trouble holding it right now, and I’d dribble a bit on the walk to the toilet.
After finishing, things felt a little more comfortable downstairs.
I’d given the baby more room, so that was good.
As I took a deep breath, ready to try this bed thing again, I realized that the squeezes I’d been feeling might have been going on longer than I thought.
The pressure had made it difficult to sleep. Had I started preliminary labor?
Shrugging, I let it go. Even if I were in labor, I had a long wait before anything got serious. Labor for first-time moms usually lasted at least twelve hours—plenty of time.
And then that pressure ratcheted up by approximately a million percent.
“Holy…” I hissed, leaning over the sink, bracing a hand on either side. This one was so much more intense than the last; every muscle in my abdomen and back was clamping down. It was like a roller coaster hill. I went up, up, up, until the pain peaked, and then it backed off again.
If I had to judge, that was less time than the last ones. Maybe only six minutes, and it’d lasted longer too.
That was definitely a contraction.
Shoot, that must mean it was time.
I wanted to go back to the nest to alert the guys it was go time. While I wasn’t technically due for a week or two, the baby was measuring large during my last checkup. They were probably ready to come.
“Pipes?” Zeke’s sleepy voice from the doorway made me close my eyes with a sigh of relief.
“I think it’s time,” I croaked.
The sleepy, half-lidded expression vanished, quickly replaced by a look of shock and panic. He was thoroughly awake in a matter of seconds, his eyebrows shooting to his hairline.
“I’ll wake the others!” he said loudly before vanishing from sight so quickly that, for a moment, I thought I had imagined him.
I chuckled to myself. Seeing Zeke all worked up like that was actually pretty adorable.
I forced myself to breathe, trying to calm down.
I’d installed a contraction timer app on my phone, and I opened it up, manually adding the last contraction that hit.
I was thirsty, too, so I snagged the glass by the sink and poured myself some water from the faucet.
Another contraction hit, and I bit my lip, my body tensing. Reaching for my phone, I started the contraction timer. I was supposed to stay as relaxed as I could, but this was intense. Isn’t it supposed to ramp up slowly? Geez.
“Duchess?” Clay’s voice, gravelly with sleep, reached me just a second before I felt his hand on my lower back, pressing down gently. He seemed to pick up on my discomfort, putting his hands on either of my hips and squeezing them hard.
“Fuck, that feels good,” I mumbled, meeting his eye in the mirror.
“Zeke is shouting the house down, saying, ‘it’s time’?”
“I’m pretty sure it is. Holy fudge, this is painful,” I whimpered, leaning farther over the sink.
It was difficult to talk through the contractions already, and panic lanced through me.
It wasn’t supposed to be this fast. I was sure of it.
The contraction eased off, though, so I stopped the timer and took several more sips of water.
The baby was moving around in there, which was a good sign, and I let out a sigh as I caught my breath for a few minutes. According to the app, that one had been about thirty seconds, and it was definitely five minutes from the last one.
Clay rubbed my back in slow circles as I forced myself to just sway and breathe. Relaxed. We’re staying really relaxed, aren’t we, baby? That’s right.
After some time, Clay stepped beside me and looked me in the eye. “How about we get you into some comfy clothes so we can get you to the birthing center?” he asked softly.
“In a minute,” I mumbled, closing my eyes and groaning. “Everything feels so tight and heavy. And they’re coming so—Fuck! Again?” I whined as another contraction hit.
Clay’s eyes widened. “Those were very close together.”
I gaped at him, drawing in ragged breaths. Contractions close together meant the baby was coming, and they were coming fast . This was much faster than I expected too. What happened to my twelve hours?
“My back’s been hurting since the festival, and I think there were some milder ones while I was sleeping. I thought that was just normal that far along.”
“Hey, pretty girl,” Dakota said as he slid into the room, taking in the scene before him. I bent over the sink, wearing only one of their T-shirts and nothing else, while Clay rubbed my back.
“Her contractions are almost continuous,” Clay explained. In the mirror, I watched the pair of them exchange a look of concern.
“So we need to get—sugar tits!” I hissed as a contraction, so strong it made me dizzy and nauseated hit me.
Dakota came to the other side of me, his body mirroring Clay’s. “I think you’re close, very close. We need to call someone.”
“My water hasn’t even broken yet!” I growled, resting my forehead on the cool porcelain of the sink.
Clay met my eyes, his face serious. “Duchess, are you sure about that? The nest is soaked.”
I gaped at him. Surely that didn’t mean…? “I just needed to pee and…” My words drifted, realizing that I hadn’t been able to stop the subtle leak. Oh shit, did my water actually break? And the contractions were way worse after that…
“My everything hurts,” I whined pitifully. We needed to get to the birthing center immediately.
“Is it all right if I take a look?” Dakota asked softly, his hand on the small of my back as I rocked and swayed because staying still felt horrible.
“This is so embarrassing. It’s been like what, an hour or so of labor? I can’t possibly be there already. I’m supposed to have time,” I mumbled, throwing my head back.
“Just let me see what’s going on, okay? We’ll call the doctor and let him know.
” Offering a small smile, Dakota helped me through another contraction as we shuffled over to the bed.
He needed to take a look, sure, but lying on my back like that was literally the worst. There was so much pressure on my nerves, and as he reached his hand up there to get an idea of how things were progressing, it took everything I had not to smack Dakota for touching me.
“I hate to say this, but this baby is coming, Piper. You’re really dilated, and I can feel hair if I reach up there at your cervix.”
My eyes were probably bulging with how wide they were. “Here? No. No way. I am giving birth at the nice, pretty, and clean birthing center!” I hissed.
Dakota smiled sympathetically, shaking his head before looking at Clay. “Towels, baby blankets, olive oil, a couple of big bowls, ice water washcloths, and clean sheets. Find the others.”
Clay leaned forward, kissing the top of my head. “We’re with you, duchess. Give me two minutes to get all the stuff and the others. I’ll be right back.”
“Do you feel the need to push yet?” Dakota asked as he knelt next to me, rubbing my back.
“Pressure. Just a lot of pressure,” I whined. “I don’t wanna do this. Not here.”
“Omega.” Dakota met my eyes, compassionate yet firm. “I love you more than anything, okay? But you don’t have a choice.”
I whined, hardly able to catch my breath as the next contraction hit. It was everywhere, inescapable, and all I wanted to do was get away from the discomfort. It was so overwhelming.