Chapter 15 Indigo
FIFTEEN
INDIGO
“The Marshall quarterly reports should balance now,” I told Ray, saving the spreadsheet I'd been working on for the past hour. “Their shifting expense allocations were categorized incorrectly.”
“You're a miracle worker.” Ray gave me a thumbs-up from across the lodge's accounting office. “No one's been able to make sense of those numbers for months.”
“Just doing my job.” I wriggled my butt, trying to find a position that didn't make my back ache. Not possible at almost thirty-nine weeks pregnant, though.
“You should be home resting.” He waggled his finger as he’d been doing for the past few weeks. “Dr. Allardi said to take it easy.”
Much as I wanted to be on the couch reading or watching TV, I’d discovered that resting made my mind race. Did we have enough diapers? What if there was a thunderstorm and we couldn’t get to the clinic? Will I ever sleep again after the baby comes?
I saved the file again because why not and winced as my back twinged. “The C-section isn't scheduled until next week.”
“But…”
Whatever Ray was about to say was cut short by a warm gushing between my legs. Oh gods, did I pee myself? My mind scrambled for an explanation.
“Indigo?” Ray leaned over me. “Are you okay?”
“My water just broke.” I figured out what happened, but while my voice was calm, panic was claiming me, and I shivered.
“Stay calm. I'll call Riven.”
“I am calm,” I shouted, but my response and racing heart suggested the opposite. “This isn't supposed to happen. We had a plan.”
“Babies rarely follow plans.” He was talking a mile a minute into the phone.
Not helpful, Ray.
“He’s coming from the perimeter, and now I’m phoning the hospital.”
Dr. Allardi had scheduled a C-section for next week, and we'd packed a hospital bag and gone over our birth plan. Me going into labor now and while at work wasn’t part of the program.
I had to do something. But what? As I hauled myself out of the chair, my belly tightened. Oh shit. Judy had called the Braxton Hicks contraction a practice one. Ouch and triple ouch. She was wrong. It didn’t prepare me for this, and I gripped the edge of the desk, breathing through the cramping.
Ray had given birth last year, and he breathed with me before asking how far apart the contractions were.
How did I know? That was the first one. “Water broke.” I panted. “One contraction.” More panting. “A big owie one.”
“A big owie one,” he repeated into the phone. He finished the call and said the doctor was on her way to the clinic.
I was hobbling to the lodge entrance with Ray’s help when Riven burst through the door. His panicked face was a reflection of mine. I thought of all the classes I should have attended and the practice runs to the clinic we put off because we were busy or we had a plan.
“Indigo!” His arm was around my waist.
Another contraction seized me, stronger than the first. I clutched my mate, squeezing so hard he winced. It helped a little because I imagined passing the pain to him.
“Breathe. Remember what Judy taught us.”
I tamped down my irritation. Who knew how long before the baby arrived and I didn’t want to shout, “But I am breathing,” at screech level ten.
So I did as he suggested, and he breathed with me.
Instinct or maybe shared instinct took over, and I howled and so did he.
Ray too. I was both signaling the pack and releasing my pain.
The drive to the shifter clinic was a blur of contractions, panting, and howling, and Riven's foot pressed on the gas. My belly cramped again, but now I wanted to bear down and push. No. That was wrong. It was too soon. I had to be at the clinic with trained medical staff.
“Riven. I… I… I… n-need to p-push.”
The car swerved to the wrong side of the road before my mate righted it. “We're almost there. Five more minutes.”
“The baby can’t tell time.” My voice was decibels higher than earlier.
My mate cursed, something he didn’t do often, as the scenery whizzed past us.
The tires squealed when we roared up to the clinic, and Riven was out of the car and around to my door before I’d blinked, thanks to shifter speed.
“I need to push.” Our little one wanted out. “The baby’s coming.”
Dr. Allardi met us at the entrance, her calm voice contrasting with our panic, and I was whisked to the delivery room.
“I was supposed to have a C-section. I don't know how to do this.” I grabbed Riven’s shirt and ripped it as I yanked him close.
“Your body knows what to do.” Dr. Allardi positioned herself at the foot of the bed. “Omegas have been giving birth naturally for thousands of years.”
Perhaps my body knew, but it hadn’t sent me an email or a message and was keeping the knowledge a secret.
“You can do this,” Riven was at my side, his eyes locked on mine as if transmitting a calming vibe. “And I'm right here.”
Another contraction swept over me, and I pushed. Despite my fears, my body took over and made me bear down. When the cramping eased, my mate dabbed at the sweat on my brow.
With each contraction, I pushed, but nothing was happening. The baby was supposed to be here, or so TV dramas had told me. They lied. Each contraction and push was draining my strength, and I couldn’t get the baby out.
“I need a C-section.” I dug my nails into my mate’s palm. “Or you do it, Riven.”
“I can see the head,” Dr. Allardi told me, but that couldn’t be right. “One more push and the baby’s head will be out.”
Riven murmured encouragement, and his hand never left mine despite me crushing it.
“One more big push.” Dr. Allardi’s voice was far away. “And the shoulders will be out.”
But I had nothing left. She’d have to reach up and yank the baby out.
“You’ve got this, my love.” My mate panted and howled, and I joined him, using my last bit of energy. There was more pressure, followed by a blissful release as our baby slid into the world.
A cry filled the room. Was it mine? I didn’t think so.
“It's a girl!” Dr. Allardi placed our daughter on my chest. “A healthy little girl.”
After all the pain and sweat and yelling, I couldn’t quite believe I’d done it. I’d given birth to our little one. She looked up at me.
“Her eyes are the same color as yours.”
Riven cradled us both, his tears mingling with my sweat as he smothered us both with kisses. “You were amazing.” He pressed his forehead against mine. “You incredible human.”
Our daughter’s tiny hand gripped my finger.
“Hello, little one,” I whispered. “We've been waiting for you.”
“What should we name her?” Riven stroked her tiny cheek with one finger. “We had ideas, but we could never agree.”
I studied her face, taking in the features that somehow combined both of us. “Selene,” I suggested. “For the moon.”
“Selene,” Riven tested the name. “I love it.”
After we were moved to a recovery room, Dr. Allardi said many people were waiting to congratulate us, and the next hour passed with first Uncle Lionel.
“She is so beautiful and the heir’s heir.” He brushed a hand over her damp head.
When he left, other pack members brought flowers and congratulated us.
Dr. Allardi wanted me to stay the night at the clinic, but I was anxious to get home.
The nursing staff were professional and kind, but I needed to be in my own bed with our daughter in her handmade crib beside me.
The doctor agreed to let me go as long as I came straight back if I had a fever or was in pain.
Riven had been practicing putting in and adjusting the baby’s seat in the car for weeks. He was now a pro. I sat in the back beside her, my eyes never leaving our little one during the drive home.
When our daughter was asleep, Riven and I hovered over her. I was bone tired but didn’t think I’d dare close my eyes and not watch her. But my mate told me to rest and his wolf would rouse him when she was hungry.
He had a built-in babysitter.
“Thank you.” He embraced me. “For loving me and accepting our world.” He kissed Selene’s brow. “And for making a family with me.”