Mary's contractions slowed down on the way to the hospital, and they arrived around midnight. By the time the sun rose in the early morning, Mary was still in labour. She paced up and down the room, her hands pressed on the small of her back, her belly button sticking out through her blue hospital gown.

"This is going to take forever," she complained, as she slowly waddled back and forth. "I want my baby, now. Hell, I've been waiting nine months."

John smirked, before he put down the car magazine he was reading. He was sat in an arm chair in the corner of the room.

"You said the same thing last time," he recalled, with a smile. "Sam was almost born by C-section because he was taking so long."

Mary scoffed at the memory. Compared to the sudden and speedy delivery of Dean in the back seat of the Impala, Sam was taking his time in making his first appearance. He took around nearly thirty-seven hours, whilst Dean was around an hour and five minutes.

Later that morning, John called the parents of Sam's friends to inform them about the situation. He also called home, to keep his family up to date. Sam was sad about his birthday party being cancelled and was a little peeved at the new baby essentially gate crashing his special day. As Dean predicted, their great grandmother was making him a gross dried fruit birthday cake.

The midwife examined Mary's progress, just before noon. The midwife frowned slightly, as she examined the baby's position.

"What's wrong?" asked Mary, squeezing her husband's hand for comfort.

She felt the baby kick, making her wince.

"It looks like your baby is turning somersaults in there," commented her midwife, Julia, with a reassuring smile. "He's at an odd angle, that's all. Some babies decide they want to come out in a more difficult way. I wouldn't worry, honey. My daughter was born feet first, after turning at the last minute. She's nineteen now and still indecisive."

Mary let out a heavy sigh, her head flopping against her pillow. John stroked his wife's blonde hair. Mary then suddenly sat up, one of her hands on her bump, whilst the other gripped her husband's hand, as she was hit with another painful contraction. She was panting at first, before her breathing became more controlled. John rubbed her neck, trying to ease his wife's pain.

"Just breathe through it, Mary," remarked Julia, in a calm manner. "Just relax. That's it. You're doing great."

Mary was exhausted, which made no sense to her, as she had barely done anything yet. After the contraction passed, Mary settled back down again.

"Try and get some rest, Mary," instructed Julia. "It looks like you might be at this stage for a little while, until baby decides to turn around again."

John kissed Mary's forehead.

"She's right, sweetie," said John. "Save your energy for later."

Mary managed to get several hours of sleep, although painful contractions interrupted her numerous times. Her laid back attitude to the labour had changed within this period, as John suspected. It was replaced with frustration and impatience.

As the day turned into evening, Mary's waters broke. She was asleep, and was woken by the sudden gush of fluid coming from her womb. Mary let out a yelp, which woke John. On seeing his wife's stained gown, John rushed to get Julia. The midwife was joined by several other colleagues. Julia examined Mary's progress and the position of the baby. She smiled.

"All systems go, Mary," she remarked, adjusting Mary's gown. "The baby is in the correct position now. So, when you're ready, I want you to push for me."

Mary didn't need to be told twice. She grasped onto John's hand, whilst the other hand gripped onto the side of her bed. As she pushed, Mary panted and squealed in agony. John was just glad it wasn't deafening screams like when she giving birth to Dean, or foul mouthed curses, when she was having Sam.

Her blue gown stuck to her body, due to all the excess sweat, and was beginning to slip at the shoulders, slightly.

"It's gonna be a while before we have sex again," panted Mary, as she gazed up at her husband. "I'm not as young as I used to be."

John planted a kiss on her damp forehead, and massaged her aching neck and back.

"Whatever you say, sweetie," he smirked. "You might be pushing forty but you're still a babe."

Mary glared at him, and gently smacked him on the chest. She continued to push.

"C'mon, honey," encouraged John. "You're doing great. Keep going. He's almost here."

Mary let out a final shriek, before the room went silent. The silence was then filled with the cries of a new-born baby. Mary instantly burst into tears.

"Congratulations!" grinned Julia, lifting the wailing infant into their viewpoint.

"You did it, Mary," beamed John, as he gazed at the baby that was placed on his wife's now bare chest. "He's here. Just look at him. He's perfect. He's…."

John's jaw dropped.

"What?" asked Mary, as she tried to console her new-born.

The naked pink baby wriggled around, kicking its tiny legs out like a frog. Only the infant was missing something. As Mary lifted the baby slightly, it was obvious that the doctors had predicted wrong.

"It's a girl," announced Julia. "You've got a perfectly healthy and beautiful little girl."

Mary and John were speechless.

"Well, we have to think of another name" remarked John.

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