Chapter Twenty-Three
Quill
The top of the bed had been covered in a soft plastic sheet. Pierce lay against half a dozen fluffy pillows, gasping through his contractions. He wore a gown that opened in the back. Right now, he was on his side.
The babies were coming.
Rafe and I sat on either side of him, holding his hands, but he kept pulling away from our grip and clutching his midsection.
Kim, our glorious midwife, was on her way but stuck in traffic. “As long as his contractions are still five minutes apart, you’ll be fine,” she told us.
She had gone over everything we could expect. But what about the unexpected? We had lots of towels. The baby blankets were all in place. Clean water and new sponges. We were set. Only we had never done anything like this before. None of us.
Even though we were nervous, Rafe and I forced ourselves to send calm energy through our bond.
“Isn’t there some way you can knock me out and wake me up when it’s all over?” Pierce asked.
“You can do this, babe,” I said. “We’re your protectors, but it’s really you who’s the strong one.”
“At the moment, it doesn’t feel like I’m strong.”
“You’re strong, amazing, and beautiful,” Rafe said.
Another contraction came. They were getting closer together. I held my hand up with three fingers raised to Rafe over Pierce’s head. Three minutes now. Where was Kim?
“You’re doing great,” I told Pierce. I rubbed his shoulder while Rafe rubbed his back.
“I want drugs or something. I feel like I’m going to burst. It hurts.”
“Roll over and spread your legs,” I instructed.
Slowly, he complied as Rafe put a pillow under the small of his back. I rubbed his abdomen lightly through the gown, in circles. “Better?”
“Yeah. For now.”
I watched the clock. Three minutes later, another contraction came. We held him until it was over. From everything I’d read, we still had lots of time. But who knew? This was Pierce’s first birthing. At any moment, those babies might decide to just shoot right out of him.
After a few more contractions, I heard sounds coming from the front entrance to the loft.
“Kim is here,” I announced.
Seconds later, she called out, “Pierce? Quill? Rafe?”
“Back here!” we answered.
She came in, pulling her loaded cart behind her. “There you are. Everything okay?”
I sat up. “The contractions are now two minutes apart.”
“Good,” she said, and set about doing her job.
Rafe and I stood back, watching everything. I wanted to do more. Something.
“Pierce,” she said. “It will be soon now. Litters tend to come only minutes apart, so, after the first, it will soon all be over.”
“Okay.” His voice sounded weak.
“Are you more comfortable on your hands and knees or lying back with your pelvis elevated and feet apart?” Kim asked.
“Hands and knees, I think.”
“Good. That’s usually easiest for most omegas. But everyone’s different.”
Rafe and I stood at the head of the bed. “Can I rub your shoulders?” he asked.
“If it’s okay, that would be nice,” Pierce answered.
“It’s fine by me,” Kim said.
Rafe and I each took a shoulder and began gentle massages. Through the bond, Pierce was tense, but he seemed a bit more relaxed now that Kim was here. She administered something for the pain as well and though he was grunting and groaning, he wasn’t crying out like before.
My stomach was still in knots, as if I was giving birth myself. Through the bond, I could feel some sensations of it, though distant. I’d never loved my mates more than in this moment.
Pierce’s behind was exposed now, and Kim used gloved hands on him. “I’m feeling the baby’s head. It’s positioned perfect. The next contraction will be quick, Pierce. I’ll want you to push.”
We held him through it as Kim called out, “The baby is crowning.”
“That’s wonderful,” I whispered. “Pierce, you’re incredible.”
“It’s too much,” Pierce said. “I feel dizzy.”
“You can relax now,” Kim said. “But as soon as it hits again, gather all your strength and push.”
“I’ll try.”
“You can do it,” Rafe encouraged.
We were bracing his shoulders now as he heaved. I could feel the contraction moving through him. It was strong.
“Now push!” Kim instructed.
Pierce cried out, his cheeks pink, and bore down against us. It seemed like it lasted an eternity, but it was probably only seconds.
“Baby’s out. I’ve got her. Your firstborn is a girl, and she looks fantastic. The next will be coming soon, but you can relax for a minute, okay?”
I watched as Kim took our daughter to the table set up with clean water and baby blankets. As she rubbed her down, our daughter began to cry.
I leaned down to Pierce. “She’s here. Hayley is here.”
“I love that sound,” Pierce replied.
“Hayley,” Rafe whispered. “I’m already in love.”
Sooner than we thought, our second child was ready to be born. It seemed faster and easier this time.
Kim held him up as he began to cry. “It’s your son.”
“Hadley,” I said proudly.
The third child was the mystery gender. We were anxious to find out. No matter what, the baby had a name. We’d picked the name Harlow because it was unisex.
With two babies now in the giant bassinet, we waited for our third. Pierce braced against us and, two minutes later, Harlow, our second daughter, was welcomed into the world.
While Kim cleaned her up, as she was working, the baby began to shift. “Ow.”
“What?” I looked up from Pierce.
“Just so you know, Harlow’s the porcupette.”
I beamed and went to Kim to take her into my arms. During the blanket wrapping, Harlow had shifted back to human, but I’d caught a glimpse. She was stunningly cute. All of them were.
After Pierce cleaned up and we took the plastic sheet away, we all lay back on the pillows. Kim brought us each a baby and we held them, cooing and clucking and probably acting goofy, but we didn’t care. We were all in love with the three of them.
Our family had just doubled in size.
Kim pronounced everyone healthy. Then she gave us a few more instructions before packing up and leaving.
We spent the rest of that first day and night tending to our little ones. We didn’t care if we ate or slept. We didn’t want to miss a moment watching them nurse or sleep. The first diaper I changed was like a milestone. I didn’t hate it like it was a necessary chore. I felt honored. Maybe in a few weeks or months, I’d feel inundated with chores, but right now, all three of us were flying high on the endorphins of pure love.
In a rare moment when all three kiddos were asleep, Pierce said to us, “Aren’t you glad I gave you baby-holding lessons?”
“Pierce,” I said firmly. “I’ll have you know that holding a teddy bear is nothing like holding a real baby.”
“I have to agree,” Rafe said.
“For one thing,” I continued, “babies squirm. Even newborn ones.”
Rafe backed me up. “Right. It’s not the same at all.”
“You alphas are thankless.” Pierce pouted. “I gave you A pluses and everything.”
“We do appreciate that,” I said, giving him a side hug and a kiss on the cheek.
Silence fell over us. The lights from downtown sparkled through our bedroom windows. The three of us bent over the bassinet, watching our son and two daughters sleep.
Happy Birthday, I thought. It was a night we’d never forget.