Chapter 22 Pax
PAX
My back aches relentlessly, and I moan softly, gripping the kitchen counter as another wave of discomfort washes over me. Heather had warned me that labor often starts with back pain.
Not a fan. Not one bit.
“Aaron!” I call out, feeling a fresh surge of panic mix with the pain. “It’s starting. I think it’s really starting.”
Aaron rushes in and his eyes go wide. There’s a mix of concern and excitement etched across his features. “Do you want me to call the midwife?” His voice is steady, but there’s nervous energy coursing through him.
“Yes, please.” I try to keep my voice calm, but it wavers. This is it. I’m going to have a baby.
Aaron fumbles for his phone. His fingers tremble as he presses Denise’s contact.
I close my eyes, taking deep breaths, trying to focus on my body rather than the twisting thoughts trying to twirl through.
Each contraction feels like a tidal wave, cresting and crashing, pulling me under before releasing me again.
“Yes, it’s happening,” Aaron says.
As the minutes tick by, the space feels charged. My heart races. This is it. What we’ve been waiting for all these months.
There’s a knock at the door and Aaron rushes to answer it. Not much later, and the midwife steps in. Her presence calms the storm inside me.
“Pax, how are you feeling?” she asks, assessing me quickly, her demeanor professional yet warm.
“Like I’m about to give birth,” I reply, my voice no doubt laced with fear and pain.
“You’re making good progress,” Denise says, a smile breaking through the tension. “Just remember to breathe and listen to your body. You can do this.”
Aaron hovers close and takes my hand. “Do you want the tub? I can fill it.”
Denise shakes her head. “No time for that. Pax, I’ll have you get on your hands and knees and squat.”
The next contraction hits me like a freight train. I gasp. Worry etches across Aaron’s face.
I reach out and squeeze his hand. “Good vibes, Aaron. We’re in this together.”
He nods. “Good vibes!” His cheery attitude lights up his face. “We got this, darlin’.” A wave of strength washes over me.
“Alright, Pax, I need you to push,” Denise says from behind me.
“I can’t. I can’t.”
“Yes, you can, darlin’. Push.”
And I do. Squeezing my eyes shut, I push with all my might. I push until I can’t anymore and the pressure pain subsides.
“Good! Perfect!”
A rush of relief floods me, and I drop to the bed.
Aaron gasps, his eyes glistening as he watches Denise with our baby.
A soft cry breaks the tension, and my heart leaps. Our little one is here.
“Pax!” Aaron grins, his voice a mixture of disbelief and joy. “We did it! A little girl.”
I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face and I flop to my back. “Yeah, we did,” I reply, my voice shaky, but I’m so happy.
Denise gently places our baby girl in my arms, and I look down at the tiny, messy bundle. Her delicate features are perfect, and I can barely hold back the tears. “She’s beautiful,” I whisper. “What about Willow?”
Aaron’s grin widens, and he leans closer, brushing his fingers against our daughter’s cheek. “Willow,” he echoes. “Perfect.”
I look into Aaron’s eyes. We share a moment that feels monumental.
The worries, the doubts, they all vanish in the glow of this new life.
I can’t help but feel the joy radiating between us, a connection that’s deeper than I ever thought possible.
Parents talk about that instant love the second they see their child for the first time and I agree, but my love for Aaron deepens at the same time.
“This is just the beginning,” Aaron says softly, his eyes still on our daughter. “We’re going to be amazing parents.”
I nod. “Yeah, we are. And she’s going to be the envy of the playground with all the stuffies her dads are going to make her.”
Aaron snorts. “You’re almost getting better than me.”
“I think I win creator of the year.” I kiss Willow’s cheek.
“Willow was a joint effort for the record,” Aaron says. “But I’ll let you have it since you did all the heavy lifting.” He leans down and kisses me, and it tastes like true love. Fate knew exactly who to send to me to help me accept my whole self, Omega and all.
I look up at Denise as she cleans up. “When will we know if she’s a shifter?” Her designation will come later when she’s about five.
“It might take a few months. She’ll let you know. Every baby is different.” Denise helps show me how to breastfeed and Willow latches on like a sucker fish.
Aaron looks at me like I hung the moon and I can’t get enough of his adoring face.