Megan and Zatanna waited patiently in the waiting room for Wally. It had been nearly 2 hours since Artemis went into labor.
Artemis had called her mother and Megan picked her up after dropping Artemis off at the hospital. Paula was in the delivery room, doing her best to comfort her daughter.
Zatanna nervously bounced her knee and bit the inside of her cheek, looking towards the maternity ward. "What if something goes wrong?" She whispered. Megan shook her head. "Nothing is going to go wrong. They're both going to be okay."
"I'm late. She's gonna kill me. What if I missed everything? Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh shit! Oh fuck!" "Oh shitting and oh fucking isn't going to get us there sooner." Megan and Zatanna perked up at the sound of Wally and Conner's voices. "I am so sorry. My car broke down and I had to call Conner but he was walking Wolf so I had to wait for both Conner and roadside assistance but then I got hungry on the way a-" Zatanna held up a hand, cutting off Wally's ramblings. "Irrelevant. Artemis needs you, go." Zatanna said, pointing to the nearest nurse Wally could talk to. He ran off and Conner sat down in between the girls.
"He wouldn't shut up the entire drive. He had Dick on the phone so he should be here any minute." Sure enough, Dick came 15 minutes later with balloons, flowers and a teddy bear. "This is what they do in the movies right?"
Wally came out every half hour or so to update everyone on Artemis's status. Around 1 AM he came to send everyone home. "I'll blast the group chat when she's here and not covered in birth." He promised.
The adrenaline rush had since faded but he was still shaking due to pure anxiety.
Dick placed a supportive hand on his best friend's shoulder. "You know better than to expect us to listen." He grinned. "Plus, Megan and Conner, the only responsible drivers, are too tuckered out to be on the road." He sent a pointed look to Zatanna.
Wally sighed and nodded. He closed his eyes and stood still for a moment. "This is really real and I'm really scared."
"Why does having a baby take so long?" Artemis whimpered.
Her doctor explained to her (for the 9th time in the last hour alone) that she wasn't fully dilated yet. She wanted nothing more than to dilate her foot up the doctor's ass and get this over with. "Can I at least get the drugs yet?"
No, no she could not because she wasn't dilated enough yet.
She was starting to hate that word. She grit her teeth through another contraction and hoped that things would start speeding along.
Spoiler alert: they did not. Artemis was admitted into the hospital around 7pm but wasn't able to push until early into the next morning.
No books, no documentaries, none of her mother's stories could have properly prepared her for this.
Her labor was by no means a cake walk but she was expecting it to be much longer. It was the final stretch, the pushing where she had lost all resolve. Never had she felt so vulnerable, felt so small. There was a team of strangers staring between her legs while Wally and her mother held her hands.
She was so tired. Her entire body felt like lead. There was no energy to draw from, she was running on instincts and fumes.
The midwife told her to push on the next contraction and she whimpered.
"Mama I can't." She cried, grasping Paula's hand tighter.
Wally gave her other hand a squeeze, a supportive gesture, but he didn't dare interrupt this mother-daughter moment.
She felt like a terrified little girl learning to ride a bike again.
She was lost in her thoughts. On Jade's old bike, frozen, her knuckles white on the handle bars. "You can." Paula encouraged. Whether it be in the real world or her memories, she wasn't entirely sure.
Both Artemises closed their eyes tightly.
Little Artemis, as she started pedaling and Big Artemis as she pushed.
She ended up falling off, skinning her knees and palms. But Paula was right by her side, helping her to stand, helping her back on the bike.
She was right by her side, holding her hand as the next contraction came.
Another push.
"Mama I can't!"
"Yes you can my brave girl." Paula reassured.
And she did.
Finally, (she blessed and silently thanked whatever powers that might have been) her daughter was born.
Conner was sent off on a coffee run around 5:30, he was glad to be out of the sterile hospital, breathing fresh air. He came back just in time too.
It was a few minutes after 6 when a red faced, teary eyed Wally came running into the waiting room. "This is not a drill."
"You know how in movies they say how much a newborn resembles which parent?" Dick asked as he held his goddaughter. "That's bullshit. She looks like a Shar Pei."
Wally scoffed. "You did not just compare my baby to a dog?!" "No, she looks more like a Sphynx cat. Look how big her ears are." Zatanna laughed. "You're both fired." Wally said, gently taking her in his arms and handing her to Megan.
Conner shrugged. "I mean, if anything she's like a baby bird. Small. Bald. Alien like." "You guys are mean. She's adorable." Megan protested. "She's new is all." "No, I agree. She's kind of ugly." Aretmis laughed through her haze of pain killer.
Wally sputtered. "How could you say such a thing? You know what? You're excused. You're just delirious. The rest of you? How dare you? She's the most precious thing I've ever seen in my life. Is she bald? Yes. Is she wrinkly? Yes. But it's nothing compared to the way she looked on the ultrasound machine." "It's called a sonogram Walls." Dick corrected. "Semantics!"
Once everyone went home Artemis went to sleep.
She was understandably drained and knew she should get every little bit of sleep she could, she'd be missing it for a while.
When she woke up Wally was sleeping in the chair next to the bed. The boy could sleep anywhere huh? He must have been just as tired as she was, just as emotionally depleted.
Next to Wally was their daughter in her bassinet.
She was peacefully asleep and Artemis did her best to prop herself up and peer into the bassinet.
Everything immediately after the birth was a drug induced blur.
She looked at the name tag attached. West, Margaret P.
Artemis gently moved the bassinet forward to get a better look.
Margaret Pallas West. Born May 18 at exactly 6am.
7 pounds, 3 ounces. 20.11 inches. Ten fingers, ten toes, beating heart, strong lungs.
A person. A person she created.
A small person who would depend on her, that needed her. A person she hoped not to disappoint.
Her daughter.
A tangible being now, not just an idea or concept. More than a kick to the spleen, a shift in the night. It was quite something to wrap her head around.
"Don't fuck this up." She whispered to herself causing Margaret to stir. Instead of wailing she was greeted with a gummy smile, a smile that she gladly returned.