15. Ferris

FIFTEEN

FERRIS

“Maybe we should go to the hospital.”

I’d been fine when we discussed having the baby at home as most shifters did. But now that giving birth was a reality, Hugo was panicking a little. Not that most humans would notice but his breathing had sped up, and he was clenching and unclenching his hands.

“I’m a little scared and a lot excited.” A contraction gripped my belly, and I leaned my head on my mate’s chest. “Okay, add to that I’m in a lot of pain. But my body can do this. It knows what to do.”

Hugo put his arms around me.

“And if you’re here helping me emotionally, I can do this. We can do it together.”

The way his face blanched of color didn’t assure me he was as confident as I was, but he would recover and rally his strength.

“If you are sure.” He placed a hand on either side of my face and our gazes locked on one another. There was the Hugo I mated. He exhaled and nodded.

“What I didn’t expect was to give birth in Charlie and Hector’s place.” And surrounded by all things bear. The first scent the baby would get a whiff of—other than their two dads—would be honey. Maybe that was appropriate, as there would be a lot of it in our child’s life.

“Better get used to it, kid,” I whispered to my bump

“Do you want us to leave?” Charlie and Hector were dragging a mattress into the living room from their spare bedroom, while saying I could use their bed if I wanted to.

I wanted to walk, and stop, and lean on my mate, grunt and groan as the contractions took hold of my belly. Being in the bedroom wasn’t where I wanted to be. Hugo cleared a space on the floor, and as I gazed at the decorations and the remnants of food, I couldn’t think of a better place to bring my baby into the world.

But having my best friend support me and my mate’s bestie by his side was perfect, as Hugo had no close relatives and my family were hours away. Charlie and Hector were our found family.

“I’ll boil water.” Hector headed into the kitchen.

“What is that for?” Hugo hissed at me. “Humans always do that on TV.”

“It’s for the tea they drink afterward,” Charlie said confidently as he placed a mattress protector over the mattress and covered it with a sheet and blankets. “Did you want a rolling pin?”

Hugo looked at me. “Please tell me you’re not planning on cooking while giving birth?”

That hadn’t been included in our birthing classes, but Charlie and I had read about it one day at the store. We’d made jokes about rolling out pastry that we’d eat after the baby arrived.

But my reply stuck in my throat as a cramp squeezed my belly. Hugo helped me onto the mattress, and I got on hands and knees and panted. But I was still dressed, and when the contraction passed, my mate removed my clothes.

“Help me up, love. I want to walk.”

We paced around the living room, and I gazed out the sliding doors, past the balcony to the ocean. Back and forth the waves went, and I calmed my breathing so it was in time with the sea rolling toward the beach.

The beach has always been the place where I was happiest, and now the ocean, along with Hugo at my side, helped keep me present, to stop my emotions wrecking havoc and freaking me out as to how I was going to push a baby out of me.

“Ice.” My mouth was dry, bottom of a bird cage dry. Charlie gave my mate a cup of ice chips, and I sucked on a few, the frozen liquid partly quenching my thirst.

The next contraction almost split my body in two, or that was how it felt. Now I was a little afraid. My baby was being pushed down the birth canal, and what if I couldn’t perform the last part? Oh gods. Now I was panicking, and it bubbled up my throat, threatening to choke me.

I twisted around, clutching Hugo’s shirt in my fists. “What if… what if… I c-can’t do this?”

Maybe it was the terror in my eyes or the way my face was twisted, but instead of freaking, my mate did the opposite. He turned me to face the water.

“Do you remember when you learned how to surf? How long it took and how many times you fell?”

I panted, and with each gasp of air, I recalled my frustration at falling off the board but also my determination to get back on and try again.

This pain had a purpose; to bring our baby into the world. I’d told Hugo my body knew what it was doing, and it did. But my head and befuddled thoughts kept getting in the way. Reaching that point didn’t make the pain disappear. It was with me every step of the way, but I tried to see us as partners with the same aim; a healthy baby.

“Help me onto the mattress, love.” It was time to push, and soon we’d meet our child.

I got on my hands and knees but had my mate help me onto my back. He sat behind me so I rested on his chest. He put his hands on the bump.

“I feel that,” he whispered as a cramp took hold of me. I bit back a snarky response, because he didn’t feel what I did, and pushed. Nothing happened. Even though we’d been to birthing classes, I still sort of expected the baby to pop out after a couple of pushes.

“Charlie, look and tell me if you see the baby.”

“Not yet.”

I tried to tamp down the panic that was threatening to take hold of me. Where was the baby? Charlie should be able to see my little one?

More pushing, but what was the point? Negative thoughts penetrated my mind, and my breathing was coming in spurts and starts.

“Breathe with me.” Hugo took long deep breaths in and out, in and out, and at first I didn’t copy him. It was too hard. But he rested his head on my shoulder and kept repeating, “In and out.”

More pushing, and Charlie shouted, “I see something.”

“Like what?” Was he looking out the window at a boat? One of the decorations which had floated loose and was blowing around the room? Or was he talking about the baby? I couldn’t separate reality from panic.

“Hair. Pretty sure it’s the baby’s hair.”

“Well, if someone else is in there, they can get out right now!” I was in no mood for silliness.

“Push, Ferris.” That was Charlie, and after two more big pushes, he yelled he could see the baby’s head.

“Our baby has a head, Hugo. Did you hear that?” I was doing something right.

But I’d used so much energy, I was flagging—probably all the cupcakes I ate at the shower—and when I grunted as a cramp took me in its grip, Hugo yelled, “Push,” and again, “Push.”

“The baby’s head is out.”

I’d almost done it. The hard part was done, sort of.

“Hector, bring me a blanket.”

I lifted my head as my bestie draped the blanket over his hands, and I reached down and pushed the baby out of me.

“It’s a boy.”

“A boy,” Hugo and I said together.

Charlie wrapped up our little one and placed him on my chest before he and Hector left the room.

“Hello, Little Bear.” I rested my head on his head, inhaling his scent and kissing him. I never wanted to be apart from him and envisioned us living in Charlie’s living room forever. “Unwrap him, love. I want to see him.”

“He has ten toes and ten fingers.”

“What does your bear say?” I couldn’t imagine a shifter’s animal meeting a baby who might eventually have an animal inside him. It boggled my mind.

“He can’t speak. He’s too in awe of our son.”

Yummy smells were coming from the kitchen, and I hoped whatever they were cooking was for me, for us. Giving birth had made me ravenous.

“Does he look like a Julius?” I stroked the baby’s jaw.

“I think he does. What do you say, little man?” Hugo was now beside me, both of us on pillows and covered in a blanket.

Our son yawned and closed his eyes. “Is that a yes or a no?” Hugo asked.

“If he didn’t like it, he’d be complaining, so I take that as a yes.”

“Welcome to the world, Julius.” Hugo kissed our son’s tummy. “But I might call you Little Bear sometimes.”

“I wonder how soon we can get him surfing?” I mused. I’d learned in my teens, but I wanted our son to have lessons long before that.

“Are you going to be a surfer, Little Bear?” Hugo grabbed his phone.

“What are you doing?” I strained my head to see the display.

“Checking if there are baby surfboards.”