It happened when she was in C&C. She'd been having contractions on and off all morning. They were slightly uncomfortable, but nothing she couldn't handle. After all, it was supposed to get a lot worse, wasn't it? And she *was* a soldier who'd faced some daunting challenges easily enough, right? She rubbed her back now and again as she went over the docking reports with Corwin. This contraction was different. Firmer. More insistent. Her whole abdomen tightened as hard as a rock as hot hands squeezed firmly around from her back and down with ever increasing pressure. She leaned against the railing for support as she tried frantically to remember how to breathe.
It passed, but after only five minutes had gone by, another followed. It nearly bent her double with the intensity, this time adding pressure to her pelvic region and her thighs. Is this it, she wondered?
When she could speak again, she said, "Corwin, I'm going to Med-Lab. Alert Dr. Franklin." She slapped her comm-link. "Marcus, I think we're going To have a baby."
There was no reply. She tried again. "Marcus. Marcus, did you hear me?"
000
Just as Susan pulled the gown over her head, she felt a sudden warm gush of liquid. It seeped down her bare legs and puddled on the floor. Susan looked down in horror.
The nurse smiled reassuringly. "It's just your water, Ma'am."
Susan started to reply, but the next contraction hit her then, and it wasn't good at all. The hands that had merely squeezed before now slammed into her back. She cried out, tried to move away from them, but she couldn't. They held her down, immobile, and continued to grind into her. "Marcus!"
"I'm here, sweetheart. I'm here," he said calmly, slipping his hand over hers. He'd run all the way to be with her. He was no longer ready to faint at the idea of the baby coming. Calmly he stroked her hand with his thumb. "Squeeze as hard as you need to. That's right." Her hand tightened around his as the contraction peaked, then relaxed as it slowly ebbed away.
"How are we doing?" he asked Stephen. "Is she all right?"
"Of course I'm not all right! This hurts, damn it!" Susan panted.
"Save your energy," Franklin admonished her, eyes twinkling. He turned back to Marcus. "Good. She's progressing remarkably well for a first labor. She's not there yet, but it won't be too long." His eyes twinkled at the two of them over his mask. "You'd better get into a gown while you have the chance."
Marcus nodded and discarded his robe, replacing it with the clean garment, all the while never taking his eyes off Susan. She looked as if she wanted to kill him, but also glad to see him. He watched as her face began to contort with effort and reached for her hand just as she reached for his and squeezed with all her might. Her nails dug into his skin, but he didn't mind at all.
"You're doing great," he said, sponging her sweaty forehead afterward.
"I don't feel so great," she murmured.
Several more intense contractions later, Susan began to feel hysterical. She wanted to push, but they wouldn't let her. She wanted the pain to be over with. She wanted to get this baby out of her. She reached out and grabbed the neck of her husband's shirt and pulled and twisted on it, strangling him. "This is all your fault! If I get through this I'm spacing you, do you hear me?"
Marcus just nodded.
Another contraction began. It was intense, hard, painful. It didn't help that she'd forgotten everything she was supposed to remember from their classes. The panic of the moment seized her and held her captive. She reached for Marcus' hand and held on for dear life.
"Yes. It's all my fault," he agreed. He didn't bother to remind her that she'd enjoyed all the activity as much as he had. "Now breathe."
"I can't!" She arched her back away from the pain again, but it followed her, never letting up.
"Look at me!" he urged.
She couldn't deny the command in that voice. She looked. His face was inches from her own.
"Breathe with me, Susan. You can do this."
She breathed with him. She had no choice. He wouldn't let her push him away-and she was relieved. She needed him, needed his strength and patience, his calm, his fierce determination that everything would be all right. Lost in the warmth of his gaze, she didn't feel the pain so much. She sighed when it was over and lay back.
"You're there," Stephen announced after a quick examination. "You can push any time you're ready."
"I can't push. I'm too tired," Susan murmured. She felt every eye in the room on her, and every one was filled with encouragement. Marcus squeezed her hand gently. She forgot how scared she was, how tired, how sore. With him by her side, it didn't seem so impossible. She could do this. "All right. I'm ready."
With Marcus supporting her back, she sat up and pushed with all her might. She barely heard his quietly spoken words of praise as she collapsed to rest before repeating the exertion. Again. And again. She felt as if she were splitting apart with each successive push.
Marcus watched anxiously, offering encouragement, a hand to squeeze, a shoulder to brace against. And all the while feelings of wonder, fear, and guilt pummeled him: wonder that their child was being born, fear that something would go wrong, guilt that a product of their love was hurting her so much.
"Do you want to catch the baby?" he heard Stephen ask.
Marcus blinked. He didn't know that she was that close already. He glanced at Susan, and was surprised, pleased, and confused all at once when she nodded and smiled. Earlier, she'd questioned his legitimacy, her sanity, and threatened several hair-raising tortures for him, and now she'd smiled at him. He supposed that it was all part of the experience.
"Ready?" Stephen asked. "Okay, Susan. Push. Make this one count."
The head came out, and Marcus was sure he was going to drop his baby. It looked so slippery, and his hands were shaking so much. But somehow, he managed to hang on to the tiny, wriggling, bundle of humanity as its body emerged and it loudly demonstrated how upset it was at coming out of its warm, dark nest into this cold, bright place. He looked up at his father and yowled angrily as Stephen cut the link between him and his mother.
Marcus reached out a tentative finger, and as his son grasped it in his tiny fist, he was completely humbled.
He looked from their baby to Susan and smiled. "It's a boy," he told her. "A beautiful, healthy boy." He carried him back to place him in Susan's arms. "Say hello to your Mum. You're going to love her."
As she held their son in her arms, she knew it had been worth every swollen ankle and lost meal, every sore back, every sleepless night. And yes, even worth the heartache of not too long ago. Here was her reward, her gift for trying again. She smiled through her tears and whispered, "Hello William."
She could have sworn he smiled back.
The End
