Chapter 4
Four
NOVA
I’m driving to a home visit for an expecting mom currently, cursing out Minneapolis traffic. I’ve been drifting from city to city for my clients over the past ten years, providing care and loving every second of bringing babies earth side.
There’s something so magical about supporting mothers as they give birth.
I’m trying very hard to maintain a serene feeling, but I’m not having much luck at the moment.
“Jiminy Cricket!” I curse as someone cuts me off on the road.
I have five minutes to get to Adira’s home, and I’m not sure if I’m going to make it. This is one of the downsides to scheduling appointments and having to maneuver through traffic to make all of them.
I have four moms that I’m currently seeing, but one is closer to giving birth than the others. The beta in question was having some really rough Braxton Hicks, and since it’s her first baby, she was concerned. I popped over to see her, but it put me behind.
Still, I’d rather be safe than sorry.
Picking up the phone, I call Jed, one of Adira’s alphas to let him know what’s going on.
“ Nova? Are you okay?” he asks.
I love that that was his first question. He could have easily been an asshole. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, I gaze in dismay at the shit storm that is happening in front of me.
“I’m as alright as I can be while being stuck in gridlock. I had to check on a mom that wasn’t planned for today and it put me behind. I’m so sorry?—”
“ Nova, don’t apologize for doing your job,” Jed says. “ Take a few breaths for me, and stay safe, okay?”
“Thanks, Jed. I will,” I say. “See you soon, hopefully.”
“ See you whenever you get here,” Jed corrects, hanging up the phone.
Feeling a bit better about how late I’m running, I concentrate on driving, even managing to take a back road that gets me to the house faster. Pulling up through the driveway, I sigh with relief. The gates opened smoothly when I approached, I didn’t have to wait.
Now to get my anxiety under control.
“We’re good, girl,” I murmur, turning off the car. “No one is mad at you, we’re all good.”
My parents were abusive. They’d yell at me over everything, and told me I was nothing. As soon as I was able to, I became a doula at sixteen, graduated high school early, and started school to become a midwife.
The ins and outs of things were a little hair-raising because I also left home at sixteen and lived out of my car, but I managed to make it work. Once I was licensed, I started a traveling practice as a midwife to get far away from Ithaca, New York.
Small town, lots of secrets. I’m so glad I’m no longer there.
Somehow, I worry that they’re still looking for me, and it’s not a good feeling. Smoothing my hair down, I grab my medical bag and get out of the vehicle. In my hurry, I almost trip over my long, flowy skirt.
My parents were really strict, so the second I left home, I went in the opposite direction of A-line skirts and formal dresses. They were very insistent on having my hair bleached blonde, and they always seemed to hate my eye color.
I’ve been wearing brown contacts since I was ten years old.
Now, I can ditch that stuff and I have rainbow streaks in my waist long hair.
I love how my gray-blue eyes remind me of stormy skies, and often change color based on how I feel.
I get to live as my authentic self every day. They would hate my natural, boho look.
Closing the door to the van carefully, I take some cleansing breaths while I walk up to the front door. I don’t want my nervous energy to affect Adira or her pack. They seem to be getting more anxious with each passing appointment, and she’s currently four months pregnant.
We have a long way to go, and the guys always have a new concern for me when I come by.
Honestly, it’s kind of cute the way they worry about how many kicks Adira should be feeling, and if something is a hiccup or a contraction.
It’s way too soon for contractions, but I have a feeling she may have Braxton Hicks later in the pregnancy.
My hunches are rarely wrong.
Starting to feel better as my inner mantras help ease my blood pressure and anxiety over inconveniencing my client, I knock on the door.
Morris answers with a smile, his gaze open and happy.
Every visit, I get the feeling that they’re settling more into their relationships with Adira.
She told me they were taking everything day by day and that pregnancy was a little unexpected.
I can tell though that they’re all very excited for this baby.
She and her best friend are both pregnant, and I have a feeling that they’re supporting each other through things.
Quinn is also one of my expectant moms. I’m hoping that they don’t trigger each other into giving birth at the same time because they aren’t that far apart.
I’ve seen it happen before.
“Come in,” Morris says. “That accident on Firestone Street is messing with everyone’s commute. I’m glad you got here safely.”
Since I live alone with my cat, it’s nice to hear someone say that.
“Thanks, Morris. I’m going to need to find another route home. Gridlock traffic and I aren’t friends,” I say with a small smile.
My poor van and my brakes especially hate it.
Walking through the house with Morris, I find Adira in the living room with her pack.
“Nova!” she says warmly. “How are you?”
“I’m much better now,” I say with a grin. “Do you have to pee now for the test, or do you want me to do vitals first?”
Adira bites her bottom lip as she thinks. It’s that internal check in that a lot of moms-to-be do when I ask that question. It’ll trigger the need to go, or bury it.
“I actually do need to go,” she decides, standing. “I’ve been chugging water today.”
Internally, I wince because I was half an hour late. I’m surprised she didn't use the bathroom earlier than this, causing us to miss our window.
Pulling out the pH strip that I use to check urine to be sure that the baby is safe and sound, I hand it over to Adira with a plastic cup.
“Perfect timing then,” I say cheerfully.
Adira leaves the room while I sink down onto the large sofa to wait. My lips twitch in happiness as I see that Kane has a baby doll in a ring sling strapped to his chest, perfectly placed.
“How is your collection of carriers going?” I ask him. “You always find such great patterns.”
Kane is a baby carrier junkie, and I love it so much.
He doesn’t care what he looks like, while I just see a really excited father to be.
There are rainbow wovens, ring slings with safari animals, and structured carriers with kites and bicycles.
We’ve discussed appropriate ways to put newborns into baby carriers so that their legs are in the froggy or M position to protect their hips, and he’s shown me how he does it to make sure it’s safe for the baby.
I have to say, I’m impressed with how prepared and excited he is. I’m well aware of what their jobs are and it doesn’t faze me. It doesn’t affect how I’ll care for baby and mom, nor how I’ll support her pack as we move through their journey together of becoming parents.
“I found a woven that I’m thinking about turning into a structured carrier. I’m just worried I’ll fuck it up,” Kane says honestly.
“We bought a sewing machine,” Damon says, sighing.
“Oh!” I say excitedly. “There are tutorials to help with that, Kane. You can turn the scraps left over into covers for cloth diapers if you want.”
“I started reading up on cloth,” Jed says. “It seems really complicated.”
“I promise it’s not,” I say. “I have a couple at home that I use to show parents how to use them. It’s just something I added to my collection of things.”
I shrug with a smile and the guys look excited about it. There’s no other reason for me to have cloth diapers. I don’t have a pack or any prospects with how often I move. However, I collect baby things anyway, and tend to create care packages for my clients in an effort to purge some of it.
Otherwise, I just feel like I’m deluding myself. I’m destined to catch babies, but never have one for myself. That’s just how it is.
Kane brings me the softest woven material ever, and I sigh happily as I run my fingers over it.
“I’ve been braiding it to get rid of its stiffness,” he reports.
Woven material for wrapping sometimes starts out very stiff, but the more you touch, braid, and play with it, the softer it becomes.
“Look at you,” I say with a grin. “It feels like butter. I can send over some tutorials so you can start if you’d like. I’ve been making my own clothes for years, but when I started I had no idea what I was doing. The tutorials saved my life.”
Adira comes back in at the tail end of the conversation, brows raised. “Did you make your skirt by chance? It’s so full, I can’t ever find anything like that.”
Running my hand over my skirt, I nod. “It’s really good stress relief too, and then you end up with something you made,” I explain.
“It’s beautiful,” she says, handing me the litmus test in the cup. I put on a pair of gloves before picking it up. Gazing down at it, I see that everything is where it should be.
“Looks like we’re doing good,” I say. “Let’s do vitals and listen to the baby.”
Jed takes the cup from my hand and disposes of it, while I continue the visit.
Forty minutes later, I finish up and begin to answer any questions they have.
I think they hold onto them until I come back.
This is my last visit before I’m done for the day, so I take my gloves off and dispose of them as I relax into the cushions and answer the questions that are directed at me.
“Can Adira still sleep on her stomach?” Jed asks, glancing carefully at his omega.
In the power dynamics of things, she is very much in charge, and I can tell. They exist solely for her.
“Yes,” I reply. “She’s still barely showing. It’ll get uncomfortable as she continues. A pregnancy pillow will really help with that.”
“It’ll get in the way of snuggling,” Damon mutters.