Chapter Four

Grissom sat on the end of the bed with Sara propped up between his legs. They'd been in this position for the past hour and he was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to be able to walk again once he got up. They had both agreed to go as natural as possible with the delivery of their children although considering their ages it was decided to be in the hospital in case anything should happen to go wrong. So, here he sat, in the same room they've been in for the past seven hours. Was it really only about ten hours ago that he had made love to his wife then went to bed for a nap, only to be awakened within the hour when they both felt the beginnings of severe contractions. He felt it as he slept with his hand on her tummy and she felt it from every other direction imaginable. Her first words of impending motherhood were, "What the fuck was that!" And so it went. He should have taken it as an indication that this delivery wasn't going to be the smooth, happy experience he had witnessed in the childbirth class videos, but he went along into the labor and delivery room blindly. The transformation of this statuesque goddess into a foul-mouthed trucker took all of about half an hour. From there she would go into a mode of either total exhaustion or crying so pitifully that he just wanted to cut off his penis to prevent this from ever happening to her again. But then the trucker would seep into her veins again and that was when he was ninety-nine percent certain that once these babies were out of her, he was taking those forceps that lingered on the table across the room and tightening them around his dick until it turned blue and fell off—just to prevent this from ever happening to "him" again.

"How are you doing, baby?" Grissom asked as he looked at the lilac candles they had decided to have burning in the room with them. The idea was that it would have a calming affect on her and remind her of the wondrous evening when they had made their little bundles of joy. Right now the only affect it seemed to be having was filling the air with such intense sweetness that he wanted to throw up. He watched as the candle wax dripped over the candles' edges, each drip making his stomach lurch and roll.

"I think I'm gonna. . ." she gasped as she turned her head from side to side. "Oh, god! I'm gonna. . ." He watched in amazement as a stream of vomit flew from her mouth and down over his leg. ". . .puke!"

"Uh-huh." He looked at the nurse who approached with some paper towels and wiped the phlegm-filled ooze off of his scrubs, then wondered how long it was going to be before he joined in the "lets-empty-our-stomach" game.

"It's those damned candles, Gil!" She said weakly. "They're making me sick."

"I agree." He would've got up and gotten rid of the lavender pillars but considering he was stuck behind and beneath his wife at this point, he merely looked back at the nurse. "Could you please take those out of here for us?"

On her way out of the room with the offending objects she flipped a switch and he could hear and feel some sort of air conditioning begin, evidently in an attempt to rid the air of the overbearing floral scent.

"Oh, god, Gil!" Sara started to pant and he looked at the monitor, plainly showing him that another contraction was beginning and it was a whopper.

"Okay, Sara," the doctor said encouragingly from the bottom of the bed. "Push with this one. You're almost there."

"I can't push any more. I'm so tired," she said pitifully.

"Dr. Grissom, you're going to have to help her. Lift her until the contraction subsides."

Grissom lifted Sara as ordered just as her hands clamped down on his knees with such force he was sure they were going to snap beneath the pressure.

"Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Oh, shit!" Sara started to whine then turned angry when she looked up at the nurse. "Would you move? I can't see my focal point! What the hell's the point of bringing in something to stare at if you're gonna stand in front of the frickin' thing?"

"Oh!" The young nurse, clearly new at this profession, jumped and got out of Sara's line of vision.

Grissom gave the young girl an encouraging smile then looked back at Sara's designated focal point, needing something to concentrate on as well as his wife. The decision to bring in a glass frame with three peacock feathers inside was all her idea. She loved the blue and that was what she felt would calm her to a point of such relaxation that the babies would nearly fall right out of her.

"Oh! Just get rid of the damned thing! There're too many colors! They're making me sick too!" Sara clamped her eyes closed and Grissom wondered if she were going to vomit on him again.

The nurse quickly took down the frame and returned to her station next to the doctor.

"Okay, Sara, here comes another one already. Go on, honey—push!"

Sara turned her head slightly and glared at her husband. "I think I can tell when a contraction is starting. I'm not a complete imbecile. . . .ow-ow-ow-ow—shhh, shhh, shhh, shhh."

"Push, Sara! Push!" Ordered the doctor.

"What the fuck do you think I'm doing?" She said then released a long hiss for the rest of the spasm before turning and looking at Grissom with weariness in her eyes. "Oh, Gris. I'm so tired."

"I know, honey. We'll get through this."

"Holy shit!" Sara began again as another one rolled over her followed by a growl that could only be described as . . . unearthly, as she looked down at the doctor. "If you don't get these things out of me right now, I'm suing you so bad you won't have a pot left to shit in!"

"They're almost here, Sara," the doctor said as he smiled up at her then took her hand and moved it down between her legs. "There. Do you feel its head?"

Suddenly Sara's anger turned to extreme tenderness. "Ahh, that's my baby?"

"Yes, Sara. It certainly is."

Her tenderness turned to intense flames as she looked at him again. "Then get it the hell out of there!"

"Honey, they'll be out of there soon."

"Gil?" She said pitifully as she grabbed onto his hand.

"Yes, dear?"

"When you decide to lie in this position with beads of sweat pouring off your rotund body as someone is trying to fold you completely in half and you're pushing two bowling balls out your ass—then you can tell me about how soon they're going to be here!"

"Yes, my angel."

"Oh, shut up," she growled as another contraction began and he lifted her into it. "Gil! Gil! My god, it feels like I'm tearing apart!"

"That's normal, Sara," the doctor assured her. "Remember your childbirth classes? They told you to expect this. It means the baby's going through the last obstacle!"

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" Came from Sara's mouth followed by a long hiss then a moan.

Grissom watched in amazement as a small form slid from his wife's body and went into the doctor's hands. The child was flipped around and placed on Sara's belly as the doctor looked up at Grissom.

"Would you like to cut it?"

"No, no. I need to stay here and help Sara."

"It won't be as difficult when the next one comes out." The doctor smiled at him. "She probably won't need you to lift her anymore."

"Go, go," Sara breathed. "Now's your chance."

Grissom moved off the bed with stiff legs but managed to get to the end of the area where he was handed the device that would sever his baby from its mother. It seemed to take forever but he managed to cut through the thick, rubbery hose as the baby let out its loud cries of irritation. It took another full moment before he realized—he hadn't even looked at its genitals. Was he looking at his son? Or his daughter?

"It's a boy, Sara," he smiled up at her and allowed the nurses to take the baby and begin cleaning him.

She smiled weakly back at him but was interrupted by another intense contraction. Grissom was torn between wanting to investigate the newest member of the Grissom family and wanting to be supportive to Sara but after an encouraging smile from his wife, he went to watch as his son was being weighed and measured. Seven pounds, one ounce—and that was only one of them! Damn! No wonder she could barely move! It took several minutes then he began moving back toward the head of Sara's bed but the doctor stopped him.

"Here, Dr. Grissom. You did so well cutting the cord—and I see no signs of any difficulties with this one—who seems to be in an extreme hurry to get out here—why don't you go ahead and deliver this one?"

Grissom looked from the doctor up to Sara who gave him a quick nod as she pushed and he moved until he was sitting on the stool the doctor had just vacated for him. He watched as another head became visible but it took several more contractions before she delivered the head. He placed his hand on the most beautiful thing he had ever witnessed in his life and shifted its body, delivering first one shoulder then another before it quickly slid out and into his hands. He followed the same protocol as he placed it on Sara's tummy and waited for the nurse to place clamps on the cord and he cut it.

"A boy, Sara. We've got another boy."

Eight pounds, six ounces! Damn! She deserved a medal!

The rest of their time in the labor and delivery room was a blur until all signs of the actual births were removed and the room resembled a normal hospital suite again. Sara and Grissom both had the opportunity to shower and now Sara was back in bed, feeling fresh if not revitalized. She looked at the two bassinets and the two pink faces that were fast asleep again. James Gilbert Grissom the oldest, but smallest, was very handsome with his sand-colored fur that covered his head, and Nicholas Gregory Grissom was just as debonair with his dark curls. She looked up at her husband who was looking clean again but ready to drop and she slid her sore body to the side of the bed then extended her hand to him. He took it and moved to stand next to her.

"I want you to get some rest. You've had a rough day." He gave her hand a little squeeze.

"Oh? And you didn't?" She smiled through her exhaustion. "Lie down with me."

He moved his body to stretch out next to hers and pulled her against him. "Now—get some sleep. Doctor's orders."

THE END