She had never thought about children much. She had always assumed that one day, they might hatch from her crops or something like that. Until the first symptoms of pregnancy appeared during summer and she'd consulted the doctor. Although Vaughn had originally found it weird that a tiny human grew in his wife's tummy, he had soon started to talk to it, much to his wife's glee.
"I think you're going to be a girl, just as pretty as your mom," Vaughn positioned his ear against Chelsea's tummy in the hope of receiving an answer.
"It's going to be a boy, I tell you," Chelsea commented, smiling.
"What makes you think so?" he questioned, patting her stomach as if it were a cat.
"Mother's intuition," she triumphantly claimed.
"Well, my daddy's intuition tells me it's gonna be a girl," he answered stubbornly.
"I didn't know something like that even existed," she laughed.
After the first risky eight weeks had passed, they decided to announce the news. Taro had been very proud of Chelsea for making a successor for the ranch. Vaughn had wanted to object and say he had been responsible for the creation of the successor too, but kept his mouth shut. Felicia just stood there shaking her head, slightly embarrassed by her father.
Mirabelle had squashed Vaughn in a deadly hug, enthusiastically claiming she would become grandma, where as Julia squealed and congratulated the couple.
Soon the news spread and both of them were approached by other curious villagers. Although some encounters were slightly disturbing…
"Hey, man! Wait up!" Vaughn looked around to see Denny storming towards him.
"I just wanted to congratulate you!" Vaughn nodded with an acknowledging smile.
"I mean, good job, man," Denny added in a lowered voice. Vaughn decided not to respond to that and wisely changed the subject.
…it was obvious that everyone was happy for them.
Instead of buying the kid's bed from Chen, Vaughn decided to build a bed himself. He had spent the entire day working on it, hit his thumb with the hammer twice, got wood splinters caught in his hands and vowed to buy Chen's bed next time. But the result was worth it. Grinning, Chelsea had called it a true piece of art, recalling one of their conversations.*
The fifth month, Chelsea's tummy had swollen to the size of a small football. Vaughn had forbidden her to work more than two hours on the ranch a day. Soon she had grown bored. When Mirabelle had stopped by to teach her how to knit and exile boredom, she gratefully took the needles and the yarn Mirabelle had bought her. Later in the evening, she showed her husband the blue yarn she had received grinning. Although he had grumbled it was the wrong colour, he went to Chen's to buy her more blue yarn when she ran out. Chen sensed the cowboy's mood and slipped some extra white yarn in the bag.
Before long, Chelsea had knitted a complete wardrobe for her child. When she presented it, Vaughn just shook his head in defeat, but praised her dedication with a smile.
"I still think it's going to be a girl," Vaughn insisted. Chelsea smiled at first, but then winced and clutched her stomach, because the baby had kicked her.
"The baby disagrees with you," she managed to bring out. He quietly decided not to say his supposition on this matter out loud anymore.
"Bad baby," Chelsea scolded the little life inside her. Vaughn grinned amused, but felt relieved at the same time his wife was okay.
"What do you think he'll be like?" she asked him.
"Who?"
"The baby."
"Just as adorable as his mom," he answered, resisting the urge to comment 'it's a she'.
"I think he'll be just like you." He looked at her.
"Why?" he questioned.
"He's just as restless as you at night," she laughed.
"There is a child in the room, you know?" he dryly commented.
She only smiled when his eyes grew to the size of saucers while he felt the little miracle turn around in his wife's tummy. And she giggled when he suspiciously asked if she wasn't just flexing her abdominal muscles.
Soon, it was winter. Which meant it was just a matter of weeks before it was time for the delivery. Doctor Trent checked up on Chelsea every two weeks, to make sure the baby was doing fine and there wouldn't be any complications during the delivery. Vaughn grew more and more restless as the weeks passed. Not because he didn't like it when the doctor touched his wife's stomach, but because he was terrified something would be wrong. But he found the reassurance he needed at the diner, at Lily's favourite table.
"Chelsea's a strong woman. If anyone can handle it, it'd be her," she had told him. "And I bet the baby is just as strong as the two of you are."
It was the seventh of spring when they were having breakfast. Vaughn was just telling Chelsea how their pregnant cow was doing when her eyes grew big.
"What is it?" he'd asked, nervous.
"I think my waters just broke."
For an instant, he didn't have a clue about what to do. Then he called Felica and Mirabelle, who gave him the bright idea of looking up the doctor's phone number just in case and offered to help. Vaughn had just carried his wife to the bed when the ladies came in. Mirabelle took charge and told him to warm up some water, while Felicia searched the cabinets for some old towels and blankets. By two o'clock the labour pains started. Vaughn didn't want to watch his wife be in pain, but stayed by her side and held her hand, while Felicia, mother of two children, coached Chelsea through the delivery.
It was had been a heavy delivery, but in the middle of the night, seven past twelve o'clock the child had been born. The voluntary midwifes took the care of the child on them, while Vaughn whispered sweet words in his exhausted wife's ear. Her face was covered in sweat, her hair was a mess and she was completely out of breath. She looked so terrible, it worried Vaughn. But when Mirabelle announced the child's gender and laid it in Chelsea's arms, the grin on her face made all his worries melt away.
"I told you so," she whispered hoarsely while cradling their son.
Never doubt a woman's intuition, Vaughn!
* A reference to one of my stories, 'Art', in which Vaughn and Chelsea conclude anything made with love and passion is art.