Chapter 23
Aspen
Feeling queasy, I sat at the table while Dale made me breakfast. When he set the plate in front of me with perfectly scrambled eggs, bacon and toast steaming in my face I had every intention of eating it all.
But one bite and I was full. I couldn’t. Everything seemed off.
Dale sat and began to eat. He looked up. “Is everything all right?”
I nodded. “Just feeling tired. I don’t think I slept well last night.”
“Maybe a morning nap is in order.” His eyes were kind as he spoke.
“Yeah.”
Instead, of a nap, I became a couch potato all day.
By early dusk, the contractions began.
Dale came running into the room. “I felt that through our bond. Are you in labor?”
“I guess so. I guess I sort of have been all day.”
Dale had done his research. He was all set to time the contractions. The hospital would throw us out if we arrived too early.
For hours that night I shivered and shook with intermittent contractions. I dozed off a few times, but by the time I was ready for the big drive to the hospital, I was exhausted. Dale bundled me up and had to practically carry me to the car.
He was so efficient. He had everything ready, my carry bag, the baby seat installed in the backseat, baby blankets, tiny newborn-sized diapers.
“The hospital will have baby diapers,” I pointed out.
He shrugged. “But these have little yellow duckies on them.”
When he got into the driver’s seat, I reached out and rubbed my palm down his shoulder. Even through his parka I could feel the shape of his muscles and note how strong he was. How perfect. My alpha.
When we got to the hospital he wanted to drop me off out front.
“Can you walk?”
“Yep. I can walk.”
“Wait for me inside.”
“Where else am I going?”
He drove off. I walked inside and checked in, telling them my contractions were between three to five minutes apart and that I’d had several in the car on the way here. Immediately, a nurse brought me a wheelchair and started to take me down a hall.
“Wait. I’m not going anywhere without my husband.”
“We’ll direct him to the proper place.”
“No. We’re waiting here.” As soon as I spoke, I nearly doubled over—as far as I could go—in pain.
“No. I think we should get you settled right now.”
I couldn’t speak. The wheelchair started moving again. Even though it wasn’t quite Thanksgiving yet, Christmas music played softly on the speakers. We passed by a nurses’ area with lots of counters and a Christmas tree all lit up in the corner. Pictures of snowmen and wreaths decorated the walls.
It all seemed like the perfect time to bring this baby into the world since Dale and I had become lovers for the first time on Christmas Eve.
I was taken to the paternity/maternity ward and into a private room where I was helped into hospital robe and into bed.
“The doctor will be in soon to examine you.”
Just then, Dale rushed in with my carry bag in hand and the baby bag over his shoulder.
“You didn’t wait.”
“They wouldn’t let me.”
Another contraction hit. They were coming faster now.
Dale dropped the bags and came to my side, grabbing my hand. Our bond was lit up from my pain. But also, from my joy. This wasn’t awful because I knew our son was going to be joining us very soon.
When the contraction ended, I said, “Do you feel him? He’s almost here.”
Dale squeezed my hand. “I do. I feel your pain, too.”
“Oh no.”
“It’s distant so don’t worry. But I’m here with you all the way.”
“I know you are.”
The doctor came in. A gray-haired omega with a cheery disposition.
“Hi. I’m Dr. Tavoli. How are you doing?”
“Great,” I said. “The contractions are coming faster.”
“We’ll give you something for the pain in a minute. Okay if I examine you?”
I nodded.
He pulled the covers down and the nurse brough special pillows to put under my knees and one behind my back to lift me up. I felt as exposed as I’d ever been, spread to the room and these people.
His gloved hands were cool as he poked around my private area.
“You’re fully dilated.” He smiled. “You’re going to have a baby.”
The nurse had me turn on my side to administer the pain block. After that, everything was easier. Even Dale looked more relaxed. I could still feel the contractions, but they weren’t disabling.
Soon, the doctor instructed me to push. They had never covered me back up, so I knew things were happening fast.
As I rose in the bed to push, Dale sat behind me to support my back. When I rested, it was against his chest, my head lolling on his shoulder when I thought I had no more energy.
That scene repeated itself more times than I could count.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I mumbled, trying to catch my breath.
“You can do it. You’re my strong omega.”
Energy crashed into me from the bond. I looked up. “How’d you do that?”
“I don’t know.”
I sat up again and pushed as another contraction overwhelmed me. Dale’s energy was like a burst throughout my body. A second wind I had not been expecting.
We were in this together. I already knew that. But this cemented that as fact, everything about us merging to have this baby.
“I see the head. Push, Aspen,” Dr. Tavoli ordered.
I lifted myself with Dale’s help and cried out as I used my tired, sore muscles to push with all my might. I collapsed back onto Dale, panting.
“One more,” Tavoli instructed.
“No more. Please. Isn’t he here yet?”
“You got this. I got your back,” Dale said. “Come on. One more.”
I wanted to cry. To give up. But then I remembered all that had brought us to this moment.
All the chaos of the lodge before we met, our love blooming as my heat finally arrived, and the deeper bondmate love that quickly surrounded us like a magic sparkling cloud, joining us body and mind.
This was the most pivotal day in our lives. Our son’s birthday.
“One more,” Dale whispered. His breath warm by my ear. “One more.”
“I’m doing this.”
I lifted myself with Dale’s support. I let out a huge groan as I pushed with everything I had. Dale was there through the bond, shoving all his support and energy my way.
I strained for many seconds, unable to breathe, unable to think. And suddenly, something popped. Pressure released. My vision returned.
“That’s it. That’s it,” Tavoli called out. “You have a beautiful son.”
I could stop? That was it? I’d done it?
Soon, I heard the baby crying. I wanted him in my arms, but I couldn’t move. Dale held me, whispering into my ear.
“You did so well. I can see him. He’s perfect. They’re bringing him over to us now.”
“He’s a healthy newborn,” Tavoli announced. “Eight pounds, two ounces.”
I opened my eyes and saw Tavoli hand our son, wrapped in a white blanket, to Dale. Dale cuddled him in his arms, making unintelligible noises.
“Let me see.”
Dale tilted our son so I could look at him. He was gorgeous, big blue eyes with dark lashes and a mess of dark hair on his head.
“He’s so beautiful.”
“Want to hold him?” Dale asked.
Of course, I did. I held out my arms. He was a warm little bundle, silent now, eyes fixing on me.
“Hey, there, little one. I’m your daddy. Welcome to the world.”
Dale leaned over us both, planting a kiss on the top of my head.
“Does he have a name?” Tavoli asked.
I looked up at Dale and nodded. We’d been discussing names for quite some time but settled on one we both adored.
“Hollis,” I said.
“Hollis Jack,” Dale said. “It’s a Christmas name. Our anniversary is Christmas Eve, and we wanted Hollis for holly trees and Jack for Jack Frost.”
“And Jack Skellington,” I added. “It’s one of our favorite movies.”
Dale’s warm arms surrounded me as we gazed at our son. In my heart, I promised all my love to him, unconditionally, and through our bond I could sense Dale doing the same, bonding us even tighter.
Our family had just begun.