Baby Book - Phase Two

Chapter Nine - Early in the Morning, As Usual

12 June, 2271 (Monday)

She needed to pee, very very badly. She pushed herself up on her elbow and flipped the covers back. Behind her, Spock mumbled. "Pee." He settled back, moving his arm off her abdomen so that she could get up. She levered herself erect and swung her legs off the bed. She really hated to leave that nice warm cocoon, however, her bladder was extremely insistent.

She walked carefully across the room and into the bathroom and took care of business. Oh, that felt so much better. She was halfway back to the bed when it hit her. She froze in her tracks, making some small noise. Spock was instantly alert, rising up and turning in her direction. At the look on her face, he was out of bed and wrapping his arms around her, supporting her. "Breathe, Nyota." His voice was soft in her ear. She leaned against him and concentrated. In, out, in, out. Slow and even.

When the contraction ended, Spock carefully guided her back to the bed and she sat on the edge, hanging on to him. He knelt down in front of her, watching her face. "Was that the first?"

"Yes."

"It was much stronger than the first contraction you had with Grayson."

"You can say that again." At the puzzled look on his face, she grinned. "That meant, emphatically yes."

He nodded. "Do you wish to lay back down? Or would you be more comfortable on the couch?"

She considered. "I think on the couch. I'm not sure I want to keep levering myself up and down."

He spoke quickly to the computer, turning the lights up dimly, and went into the other room. She could hear him moving about. She was sure he was placing pillows, moving the blanket she left there, adjusting the large pillow she used for a foot rest. When he returned, he picked her up and carried her to the couch, settling her down and covering her up, tucking her in. And then he settled down beside her, one arm over the back of the couch behind her head, so that she could lean against his shoulder. The other hand he splayed across her abdomen. "She is quiet."

"Yes. Remember, Grayson was as well."

"Yes. That did concern me, until McCoy assured me that this was common."

She felt it starting again and concentrated on her breathing. In, out, in, out, slow and even. She felt him there, his warmth encircling her, his presence in the back of her mind, counting out the seconds. Too many seconds for this early. Too soon. What had the interval been? Surely not long.

"Nyota. There was less than three minutes between those two contractions. This interval is much shorter than occurred with Grayson."

"Well, they say that labor gets shorter every time. I guess they're right."

He was quiet, but she knew he was thinking. "Should I call McCoy?"

"In the middle of the night? Oh, Spock, let the poor man sleep. Surely it's going to be hours yet." She did not think that he agreed with her, but he was silent.

They sat there quietly, just being close, until the next one hit. She gasped, unprepared for the intensity. And he was there, soothing. "Give me the pain, k'diwa. Give it to me. Breathe, Nyota."

And she did, opening up to him, letting him take the pain away, concentrating on relaxing and breathing. And when it was over, she did not protest when he spoke aloud. "Computer, call McCoy, audio only." It seemed things were going to go much faster this time.

"What the fuck? It's the middle of the goddamn night! Whoever this is you better have the worst emergency ever!" That was certainly Len. She grinned.

"Spock here."

Before he could even utter another word, they could hear rustling bedclothes and feet thumping on the floor. "How long are they lastin' and how far apart?"

"Her contractions are 2.5 minutes apart with a duration of 30 seconds."

"Dammit man, why didn't you call me sooner? She ought to be in sick bay by now."

"There have only been three contractions, doctor."

"Holy shit! Things are happening fast this time. Just stay put. I'll send a team after her. Bring Grayson down to Pediatrics. I'll meet you there. Why is it always in the middle of the night? Why?"

She almost laughed as the comm clicked off, but another contraction was starting and she concentrated on breathing instead.

The medical team was at their door in less than four minutes, waiting calmly until her next contraction passed before starting to move her. As soon as they had her on the gurney, webbing in place, Spock bent over her and ran his fingers down the side of her face. "I will awaken Grayson and bring him down to Pediatrics. I will be with you in just a few minutes. Do not worry."

"I'm not worried. I can feel you, counting." She smiled at him. "You're going to be a father again in a very short time."

"Indeed." His lips quirked up. "I am quite well aware of that." He felt the hitch in her breathing and flooded her with reassurance, soothing her so that she breathed calmly and evenly. Then he straightened up and they whisked her out the door, practically running the gurney down the corridor.

He turned and went to the closet, pulling out a long-sleeved shirt. Sick bay was much too cool for the short-sleeved tee he had on. Pulling the shirt over his head, he stuck his feet into the first pair of shoes he encountered and headed for his son's bedroom. He bent over, touching Grayson's face softly. "You must wake up, my son."

Grayson turned his face sleepily to his father. "Baba?"

"Mama is on her way to sick bay. It is time for your sister to be born. I must take you to Pediatrics so that I can be with her." He scooped the sleepy child up and cradled him against his chest and Grayson snuggled down, almost asleep again.

"Baba?"

"Yes, my son."

"Will you come and tell me when my sister gets here?"

"Yes, Grayson, indeed I will. But you must sleep in the meantime."

"Yes, baba." And he turned his face against his father's neck and drifted back off, not even waking when Spock laid him down in the bed in Pediatrics.

Spock stood in the door of the room that had been indicated to him by the nurse in the outer room, watching them as they prepared her, draping her with sterile cloths, carefully removing her clothing, slipping a gown over her head. He waited until they were finished before moving, but one of the nurses came at him before he took two steps, holding up a sterile gown. He slid his arms in and turned about, so that she could fasten the seals. She then pointed to the small sink on the wall and he went and washed, following the directions posted on the wall above the sink.

Then he turned and moved to the side of the biobed, ready to assist Nyota in whatever way she needed. He looked at the bed and cocked his head. It was not quite right. He turned to the nurse standing there. "The head of the bed should be elevated another seven degrees. This angle is not comfortable for her."

The nurse stared at him blankly. McCoy came up behind her and glared. "He gave you an order. Take care of it."

"But doctor, I don't know how to adjust it by degrees."

"Then adjust it until he tells you it's right. Use some sense."

She hurried to do just that. When Spock was satisfied that Nyota's back was properly supported, he sat on the stool that had been shoved beside the head of the bed. He took the glass of ice chips someone put in his hand and slipped one into Nyota's mouth, feeling her hum of welcome. It would not do for her to become dehydrated. McCoy was on the rolling stool, there between Nyota's knees, checking things. And here was another contraction. He held her hand while she struggled to breathe evenly. "Do not pant yet. It is not time."

"On the contrary, I think that it is time. Just let her do what feels right."

Strange, that comment coming from McCoy. But if he said she should pant, then he would encourage her to do just that. But then her hands clenched down hard on his and she turned red in the face and was panting, hard. McCoy's head jerked up and he looked right at Spock. "She's fully dilated already! This is going almost too fast!" Then his attention was redirected to Nyota.

Spock shifted his position so that she could grasp his hands more easily. He braced himself so that she could push against him as hard as she desired. Through their bond he soothed her, offering release from pain and tension. She panted now, the contraction easing. Her head lolled back and her muscles relaxed. The nurse leaned over and wiped her face with a damp cloth and Nyota smiled, thanking her. And then the next one hit and she was pushing against his hands, hard. This one was longer, almost a minute. This was certainly faster than Grayson's birth had been. He began to have some fears that she would suffer injury.

As if in response to his errant thought, McCoy muttered softly. "Try to get her to relax just a minute. I need to do a couple of things to be sure she doesn't tear something."

He sent waves of love and calm at her, soothing, relaxing, pulling the pain away so that she did not feel it, did not tense up. She lay there, panting, gradually relaxing and breathing deeper. When McCoy sat back and gave a deep sigh, he knew that the danger was past. When the next contraction came, she pushed hard against his hands again. And then McCoy gave a little crow of excitement. "Black hair again, but I'm sure that's what you expected."

It would not be long then. He braced himself, knowing what was coming now. And he was right. One contraction after another, with barely a break between. Her strength was remarkable. His hands would surely bear bruises, but he did not mind at all. And then she tucked her chin down and gave a deep groan as she pushed, and McCoy grabbed and reached for the suction tube the nurse had in her hand, ready, and in only a few seconds he heard a thin wail.

"Come on, darlin', just another big push or two and it's all over. Let's get this precious little one all the way out."

And she took a deep breath and bore down, hard, clasping his hands so tightly that perhaps she cut off the circulation. And then McCoy was rising up and laying their daughter down on her abdomen. Covered in secretions and streaked here and there with blood, she was nevertheless beautiful. She struggled mightily, her arms and legs flailing in the air, her lungs issuing loud protests over the treatment she had been given. Both parents stared in awe at that wonderful being they had produced. McCoy pressed something into his hand and he looked down. Ah, the cord, yes. He carefully applied the clamps and touched the small tool to the fleshy tube, searing it.

McCoy went back to his attentions to what remained to be done, one hand massaging Nyota's lower belly. Neither parent paid him any attention. The nurse came and gently wiped off the small face and wrapped her in a soft blanket, laying her in Nyota's arms. The little one quieted, happier now that she was warm. Spock reached out with one long finger and laid in gently against her cheek. She rolled her face in that direction and closed her mouth about his fingertip, sucking. Nyota laughed at the expression on his face. "Isn't she beautiful, Spock?"

"Indeed she is. She greatly resembles her mother." His voice was soft, low-pitched, resonant.

"But she didn't get those ears from me. And I don't think my eyebrows turn up at the ends like that, either."

His lips quirked at the ends. "She does resemble her brother to a considerable extent." he looked at Nyota. "Shall I go and fetch him? Or would you prefer to rest longer first?"

"Oh, go and get him now. Let him see her. And then you can take him and bathe and dress him and get his breakfast and take him to the day care center before you come back to see me before you report to the bridge." she was almost out of breath by the time she finished her long sentence.

He looked at her, surprised. "I had not intended to report to the bridge this morning."

She laughed at him. "Of course you will. You have to tell everyone about her. They'll never forgive you if you don't."

McCoy was nodding his head in agreement.

That was the way it would be then. He leaned over and kissed Nyota softly and headed off to Pediatrics to get his son.

He knelt beside the bed and touched Grayson gently. His son rolled over and opened his eyes. When he saw his father's face there so close, he jumped up. "Baba, baba, is she here? Is my sister here?"

"Indeed she is. Are you ready to go and meet her?"

"Oh, yes, baba, yes!" Grayson grabbed onto him, holding tight to his shirt and he wrapped one arm around him, rising and heading back towards the room containing the two women of the family. When they reached the door, he stopped, giving Grayson a chance to take in the whole room. He heard the gasp, felt the happiness pouring out.

He moved to the bedside and sat down, moving Grayson onto his knee. The little boy leaned forward, putting his hands on the edge of the biobed. He sighed. "Oh, baba, mama, she is beautiful.'

Nyota looked at her son's precarious position. "Spock, why don't you take our daughter so that Grayson can see her close up without falling on the floor?"

He reached up carefully and slipped his arm under the small pink bundle, cradling her against his arm. He sat back, the baby laying on his left arm, her head nestled in the crook of his elbow. Grayson settled back down on his right knee, and he wound his arm around his son's waist. Grayson leaned over his sister, reaching out with one small finger to touch her cheek softly. "Hello, Amanda. I'm Grayson, your big brother."

Both parents looked up in shock. Their eyes met over their children's heads. Spock looked down at Grayson and spoke gently to him. "Grayson, why did you call your sister Amanda?"

Grayson looked at him puzzled. "Because that's her name. She told me so." And there was no arguing with that. Amanda it was.