Okay, so…I didn't want to leave Meredith stuck in labor-limbo for too long. Here's the next chapter. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, I know people are getting impatient for the baby to get out already! And thanks again to carsonfiles for her help with the being in labor details. Now, onto the story!
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Derek stared down at Meredith, feeling utterly helpless. He had her small hand clasped between his two larger ones, her fingers gripping his tightly as if desperate for something to hold onto. Her eyes were wide open, but she wasn't looking at him. She was staring blankly up at the ceiling, her lips pursed into a thin little line to keep from screaming. He pulled one of his hands from hers, holding on tighter with the other, and reached out to touch her cheek. Her skin was smooth and soft beneath his fingertips, no different than normal, but her face was twisted into a pained grimace that was a world away from her usual smile.
She turned towards his touch, relinquishing her fascination with the ceiling to lock eyes with him. "Mer…" he said, her name shuddering from his lips in a broken rush of sound. Her eyes were haunting, making him think of some caged and tortured animal, full of something wild and afraid. "Mer," he repeated, scooting closer until the edge of the bed dug uncomfortably into his knees. He let his hand drift from her cheek to her brow. Little beaded drops of sweat were forming there, soaking her hair and matting it to her forehead. Gently, he brushed the dirty blonde strands back away from her face, smoothing them towards the disheveled remains of her ponytail. And he stared at her, watched as finally her rigid expression slackened, and she gasped loudly, like someone breaking the surface after too long underwater.
She gasped again. Swallowed hard, and stared up at him, shoulders shaking. "Hurts," she said in a small voice.
"I know," Derek murmured, still stroking the side of her face. He shook his head, unsure of what to say. He was supposed to know. He was sure he was supposed to know, but…all he could think was that he wanted to carry her far away. He wanted to pick her up, and take her somewhere safe, somewhere where contractions didn't come less than a minute apart, somewhere where they already had their daughter, and were past this. Words seemed to die silently on his tongue, and so he stared, helpless. He just watched as she bit her lip again, moaning as she got caught up in the pain of yet another contraction.
Everything blurred into an uneasy rhythm of stroking her hair and holding her hand, watching as Meredith went from gasping, and gasping, and gasping in pain to taking a breath of relief, only to fall right back into agony again. He felt as if all his organs had been ripped out, cast in lead, and then dropped haphazardly back down his throat. They'd been left to roll around inside him in a heavy pile of unease. He wanted to vomit or cry or pull out her IV…maybe all three. But instead, Derek just leaned forward. He pressed his forehead into the mattress, the top of his head just touching Meredith's shoulder. He kept her hand clutched close to him, holding the cold slender fingers to his lips. He held onto her and murmured her name even as he squeezed his eyes shut. Time no longer had meaning beyond the steady beeping of the monitor, and he didn't shift as his arm grew numb from lying twisted beneath him. He just waited.
"Derek…?"
The faint whimper of Meredith's voice jerked him back up, and out of his thoughts. "What?" he asked, leaning even closer to her. "What is it? Do you need something?" His voice was hurried and frantic. It sounded unfamiliar; some stranger speaking through his lips.
Meredith just gave a weak little shrug, and shook her head slowly back and forth. "I…don't know," she managed, a single tear escaping to cut a path down the side of her face. "I just… I don't--" She moaned again, the sound growing into something loud and wavering. She shifted slightly, gripping at his sweater to pull herself towards him. She collapsed a few inches from his chest, and he eased her closer, letting her burry her face in the soft fabric of his sweater.
"I know," he murmured as she sobbed in pain, her voice muffled by his body. "You're doing great though. You're doing so…" But he trailed off as she let out a strangled little cry. It sliced right through him, and he crumpled around her, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "I'm sorry," Derek whispered, his voice as tortured as hers. "I'm so sorry."
He lay with her, his face buried in her hair, breathing in the soft, flowery scent. He was supposed to be comforting her, and yet…he felt desperate for comfort himself. She looked so… She didn't look like Meredith. Someone had robbed him of the woman he loved, leaving him with nothing more than a tortured echo in her place. And so he just held onto her, letting the smell of her hair fill him as he tried to think of what to do. He could hear her breathing in and out against him, the sound hitching with little whimpering moans. Occasionally it dissolved into something sad and shaking that he thought might be her crying. But, when he tried to pull back to see her face, she just shook her head. She shook it frantically, and clung to him, moaning something he thought might have been "no." But maybe not… Helplessness washed over him, sending him careening back towards his tiny square of the bed. In lieu of something better to say, some better way to comfort her, he murmured her name. He whispered it over and over until the syllables ran together, coming out as reverent as they were broken, twisting their way into a bitter prayer.
He only lifted his head when the door swung open, and the sound of footsteps announced the return of the nurse. He rubbed his face roughly against the palm of his hand before turning to stare bleary eyed at the woman. Meredith still lay angled towards him with a tent of his sweater wrung tightly in her fist. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her face contorted into a pained rictus.
Derek watched as the nurse paced swiftly about the room, checking the Pitocin drip and the monitor. She moved down towards the foot of the bed, leaning forward and placing a gloved hand on Meredith's leg, readjusting her. Meredith moaned and shuddered, but complied wordlessly. Derek raked a hand through his hair, glaring at the nurse. "She can't take this," he snapped. The words came out far too harsh, far too accusing, but he couldn't bring himself to care. The woman he loved looked like she'd been plucked from some freaking medieval torture device, her face drained of color and distorted beneath a mask of pain. Some distant part of his mind knew that he'd be rolling his eyes at himself if he were the one in scrubs. Dr. Shepherd would be shaking his head at the idiocy of blaming the nurse for doing her job. He'd be calm and collected, not the mess he felt like now. But, he just didn't care.
The nurse looked up, not seeming to be affected by his manner in the slightest. Instead, she offered him a sympathetic little smile. "It can take awhile to get used to the intensity," she said gently.
"No. She can't take this," he repeated, the anger in his voice only thickening. He glanced back down at Meredith. Her face was still tilted towards him, but her eyes were squeezed shut. She was breathing heavily, apparently ignoring both of them all together. Gingerly, he reached out and touched her sweat streaked skin. "It's killing her," he muttered before letting his eyes snap back towards the nurse. "The dosage must be too high."
"It's working," countered the woman as she got up from her place between Meredith's legs.
Derek frowned, his eyes still dark and unfriendly. "What?"
"She's already a six," said the nurse with a shrug. She cast a final glance at the monitor, and pulled off her gloves, leaving the room without another word.
He shook his head, watching blankly as the door swung shut. It closed with a heavy thud, and the room was once again a tortured little cocoon, the beeping of the monitor divvying up the moments that passed. "Meredith," he whispered, turning back towards her.
"Mmmm?" she moaned. She opened her eyes to stare at him even as she tightened her hold on his hand, wincing in pain.
"It's working," he said gently, smiling down at her. "The nurse said you're already a six."
"I am?" Her voice was thin and wavering, but it was two words strung together instead of just an anguished groan. Derek's smile broadened into a grin, and he nodded his head.
"Yeah," he said, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. "You are."
She let out a weak little laugh, smiling at him. "Finally."
"Finally," he echoed. "You're over halfway there."
"Just barely," she snorted, rolling her eyes. She'd hardly got the words out before she was gasping in pain again, distracted by another contraction. Still, there'd been an undercurrent of hope to their conversation, and Derek found himself smiling and leaning closer towards her.
"You're doing great," he murmured. "You can do this, Mer."
Meredith seemed to fly from six centimeters to seven, getting there in just over half an hour. It all happened in a blur for her. Little seemed to exist outside the wall of pain that had draped itself over her, and few things managed to make it past that tortured, twisted barrier to become something she could focus on. Derek's voice crossed it more than anything else, but even he seemed to waver in and out, slipping back to the opposite side of the wall as often as not. The nurses, the doctor, everything else… It all tended to meld together, and she let it fade away in favor of curling inward in pain. It was a little easier to breathe that way, but her mind ran wild, painting entire nightmares for herself out of the word or two she managed to catch.
The crawl from a seven to an eight was a little less painful, but it took longer. Meredith didn't realize until later that it was because they'd lowered the Pitocin. She was too busy relishing the fact that, instead of a split-second to gasp in air before the next contraction, she had almost a full minute to breathe. After the continual onslaught of one contraction on top of the other, it was heaven. Heaven complete with horrible biting pain, but still…a step up.
The thrill of a chance to breathe wore off by the time she'd reached eight centimeters, and the time between contractions began to lessen again. Only this time, nobody had upped the Pitocin. Her body seemed to be shaving off seconds all on its own.
Meredith shivered, feeling suddenly cold. She closed her eyes and gasped as the contraction running through her peaked not once, but twice. Pain seemed to fill every inch of her body, and she shook her head, suddenly dizzy and miserable.
"Meredith?" asked Derek, turning back from watching the monitor at the sound of her shuddering.
She just sobbed, and shook her head. "I can't…" she choked out, staring wide eyed up at him.
"Of course you can," he said softly as she let out a mewling little cry, already caught up in the next contraction. They were stronger. She swore they were stronger than they'd ever been, tearing their way through her in endless agonizing waves. "You're so close," continued Derek as he squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I know this is hard, but you're almost there, Mer." Meredith just shifted unhappily, letting out a loud angry moan. "What is it?" he pressed as she shoved her hand down hard against the mattress, suddenly growling in frustration.
"I can't…lay down. Anymore," she hissed, hating the bed. "It. Hurts. Too much." She tried to move only to find herself distracted by another bolt of pain stabbing its way across her belly. She glared up at Derek, her eyes dark and frantic and angry. "They peak twice," she gasped, grabbing at his hand. "They freaking peak twice."
"You're almost a ten, Mer," Derek said, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "That's why. You're close. It's okay."
She gave a sharp shake of her head, going back to trying to move the second the pain started to lessen. "I can't," she repeated, shivering violently.
"You can't what?" he pressed, forcing himself to speak calmly, to force the worry out of his voice. "Did you want to sit up?"
"Okay," she whimpered. She never wanted to lay down again in her life. It hurt. Anything had to be better than laying down. She was sure it was the worst position in the entire world. She leaned heavily against Derek, letting him ease her up until she was sitting propped by her pillow.
"Better?" he asked hopefully.
Meredith looked at him, wavering somewhere between furious and miserable. "No," she growled, her voice growing unsteady as another fierce shiver shook through her, making her small shoulders tremble.
Derek frowned, his hand rubbing gently up and down her arm. "Do you want to lay back down?"
"Noooo…" moaned Meredith. She bit her lip hard, letting her teeth clench down as her body seized up again. It was a horrible lurching pattern of up and down, up and down, sharp spokes of pain searing through her stomach twice. "No. I don't… It hurts. I don't, I can't," she panted, her voice wretched and shaking. She gasped, squeezing her eyes shut, only to let them fly wide open again. "I don't freaking know, Derek!" she wailed at last.
"Okay," he murmured softly, soothingly. "Let's just sit for a little while then. We'll sit here and breathe, okay?" He smiled at her questioningly. She gave a resigned nod, her smile dying before it reached her lips. "That's it, Mer," he continued, rubbing her hand in his. "Just breathe." His voice became a stream of reassuring words, and, for awhile, it seemed to work. Meredith stared up at him, her green eyes locked with his blue ones, panting her way through the endless, double-edged waves of pain. But eventually, the sound of his voice wasn't enough to blot out the horrible flip-flopping between hot and cold. One minute she would be shivering, and the next, wiping frantically at her brow, feeling as if she were burning up. A particularly violent shiver shook its way through her on the tail end of a contraction, sending her teeth chattering, and her hand stretching out for the blanket. It had slipped down to her knees, and her fingers scraped futilely at the mattress, missing its edge by an inch.
"Cold," Meredith moaned, shivering again. "I'm so cold."
Derek moved instantly to fetch the blanket, pulling it up to her shoulders. Still shaking, she shoved her arms violently beneath it, wincing as the IV needle shifted and jiggled. "There," he said, gently smoothing out the folds in the blanket. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, trying to warm her. "Are you still cold?"
Meredith shrugged, helpless. "I don't know," she gasped again, before suddenly kicking angrily at the blanket. Something hot and nauseous washed over her with the next contraction. She bit down on her lip to keep from gagging as pain spiraled through her again. It seemed to stretch on endlessly, pulling her thoughts away from her until her mind was a blank slate. Something bitter and dark. She shuddered violently as the pain finally faded, still trying to keep from gagging.
"You don't know?" echoed Derek when her eyes focused on him again.
"What?" she mumbled, disoriented.
"You're not cold?"
"No," she growled. She shook her head, angry and uncomfortable. "Why would I've got rid of the fucking blanket if I was cold? I'm hot! I'm too…" But her voice faded away into a moan, suddenly feeling too nauseous to finish speaking without vomiting. Meredith swallowed hard, and forced the bile back down her throat. The acrid slimy feel that filled her had her shuddering again, shuddering and moaning and trying not to cry.
"I know," Derek said quietly, pressing her hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle in turn. "I know. Try and keep breathing nice and slow," he soothed. "Nice deep breaths."
"I can't," Meredith panted, her chest heaving. "I can't. I can't do this, Derek." She whimpered, giving another frantic shake of her head. "Make it stop. Please, please make it stop." Her voice grew ranting and tortured as her body contracted sharply. Derek pressed a hand to her brow, smoothing back her hair. Her skin was clammy to the touch, drenched in cold sweat.
"Easy, Mer. You're so close," he said gently, wiping her forehead dry. "Do you want to try laying down again?"
Meredith shook her head, hardly processing the question. "I don't…" she murmured, closing her eyes to the horrid jagged pain. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't…anything. Everything was miserable and painful, and she couldn't do it. She felt as if she were tumbling head over heels, careening towards the edge of a cliff, about to fall over it into something dark and despairing. She clutched at Derek's hand, trying to listen to him, trying to breathe, trying to just try. Her breath came in ragged gasps as the contraction peaked once, twice. She gasped for a moment, and then cried out. Pain went spearing through her once again, one last kick to push her over the cliff. "I can't," she shrieked, her voice cracking with a sob. She grabbed Derek's wrist, yanking on it in a desperate angry burst of strength. She was done trying to do this on her own. Done with being tough. Done with freaking managing. "I. Want. Drugs." she hissed, glaring at him. "Get me something. Anything." She paused, seeming to change her mind, adding, "Everything."
"You want an epidural?" he asked gently, leaning back in his chair to try and glimpse the nurse through the doorway.
"No," Meredith snarled, eyes flashing. "I want a gun to shoot myself with. Of course I want the epidural!"
"Okay," Derek said quickly. He scooted his chair back, and leapt to his feet. "I'll be right--"
"Now," interrupted Meredith, groaning in frustration. She slipped back into another hurting spiral, her hand clutching at her stomach. "I can't… I can't do this, Derek," she whimpered. "Please, go." She barely registered him leaving the room as the contraction robbed her of her ability to focus on anything other than the pain. It was just one, long tortured moment after another until suddenly, he was sitting back down beside her, and picking her hand up again. "Well?" she gasped, her voice coming out small and wretched.
Derek smiled down at her. "They've paged anesthesiology, and someone should be up here soon, okay?"
"Yeah…" she whispered, still trembling. Meredith lost track of time again, seething inwardly every time someone would walk past the room. Her hopes would rise at the sound of approaching footsteps, only to plummet straight back down as she realized it was a nurse, and not the anesthesiologist.
"They'll be here soon," promised Derek over and over. He felt helpless trying to calm her down, as if his words fell on deaf ears. Still, Meredith's face split into a grin when the anesthesiologist finally appeared, his cart rattling along in front of him. He was short and blonde, with a ruddy face. She didn't think she recognized him. Maybe… But probably not. Whatever. He was here. It'd barely been ten minutes of waiting, but she swore it'd been a lifetime.
"You're here," she gasped, beaming up at him through the pain.
"I am," he answered back cheerfully enough. "The name's Dr. Fielding. Or Joey." He shrugged. "Take your pick." His voice was warm and rolling, with the faintest hint of a southern accent, and Meredith drank in the sound.
She turned towards Derek, and reached out for his hand again. "My epidural's here," she whispered. Relief lingered just a hair away. She could see it, the promise of it laying there in Joey's cart. She was halfway to smiling up at Derek when something within her shifted, and she groaned desperately. Her smile faltered prematurely, her grip on his hand tightening. Pressure seemed to mount within her in the blink of an eye. "Something's…." Meredith pursed her lips together, giving a frantic shake of her head. She curled forward impulsively, her shoulders lifting away from the pillows. "I have to--"
Derek leaned forward. "You have to what?"
"Push," she groaned, her body forcing her to give in and bear down.
Joey looked up from his cart with a frown. "How far along is she?" he asked, directing his question towards the nurse that had walked in behind him.
"Just shy of an eight."
Meredith was still curled forward, panting desperately to ward off the desire to push. She stared at the cart, wistful. "I want…the epidural," she whined. Her voice came out weak and pathetic, and she would've hated the sound of it if she wasn't so caught up with trying not to push.
A moment later, the nurse was bent forward between her legs, shaking her head. "Sweetheart, you're at ten now," she said gently. "It's too late for one."
"Right," said Joey, giving a sharp little nod of his head. He pivoted around to push the cart back out of the room. "No epidural for you," he said with a grin. And then he was rattling away down the hall, robbing her of her sweet, sweet relief. She wanted to force him to come back, but all she could do was groan angrily as her body won out over her will. She found herself bearing down again, the pressure inside her building until it was irresistible.
She pushed.
And then her world was a whirl of action; the nurse shifting things about, paging the doctor, Elizabeth suddenly appearing in the doorway. Meredith felt torn halfway between exhaustion and excitement, wishing she could just pop the baby out with one, giant, comical shove. But she didn't. Of course not. After today, she was pretty sure that her name and "lucky" had no business existing anywhere in the same sentence. Probably not even the same paragraph. Still, the first official push with the doctor between her legs and the slow, tortured counting to ten wasn't so bad. On the scale from exhausted to excited, it was veering pretty sharply towards excited.
By the third push, she'd already cursed at the nurse, and told her to get rid of the damn mirror. That she was a doctor, and had seen the "miracle" of life more times than she could count. That it was more like the gross, disgusting, life-producing whatever than some shiny, sparkly miracle.
By the fifth push, the needle on the scale had slipped from pointing towards excited to wavering somewhere in the middle.
By the sixth, it was tilted decidedly towards exhausted.
One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten…
The numbers drifted through her head. The doctor was counting. Derek was counting. Everyone was freaking counting. It was like being stuck in some twisted version of a Sesame Street episode, where all the other Muppets had been killed off, and she was stuck with that Stupid. Counting. Vampire. In a time loop. Forever.
Meredith groaned, and flopped back down against the pillows. "I can't," she groaned, breathing heavily in the gap that came between contractions. It was a little longer than before, at least there was that. She could breathe. Several times. That should be enough to make her happy, keep her going, but all she wanted was for this to be over so that she could sleep. Apparently, she was some sort of horrible mother who wanted a nap more than she wanted to hold her daughter. Meredith shook her head, dejected. "I can't, I can't, I can't," she chanted, ignoring Elizabeth's renewed urging to push. She let her body do what it wanted, but added nothing. She couldn't. She was tired. She need a…
She needed a nap.
"Mer, you can do this," Derek said earnestly, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze.
She just frowned, and shook her head. Of course he'd sound earnest. He didn't realize that she was some sort of horrible, nap-seeking mother-to-be.
Still, he looked so happy, so trusting; just some poor, naïve idiot who hadn't yet realized he'd placed his bet on a loosing horse. A napping horse. She gave a seventh push for him, but it was enough to break the scale, and leave her firmly parked in exhausted. She stopped pushing way before ten, and just lay there. Gasping.
The voices washed over her, the stupid counting voices. Meredith closed her eyes and ignored them, tiredness clinging to her like cobwebs. She let one contraction pass by. And then another. And another.
"Meredith, dear." Elizabeth's voice forced its way in past the cobwebs, sharp with concern. "You're not pushing hard enough. Can you try a little harder for me?"
Meredith let out a frustrated groan that was really more of a snarl. No. She couldn't push harder. She. Couldn't. Push. At. All.
"Mer, come on." Somehow, she was staring into Derek's eyes; two orbs of deep blue that swam before her. His voice was gentle and low, the sound wrapping its way around her. "I know you're tired. I know you want to give up, but you can do this." He had her hand in his again, his lips brushing soft like wings against her knuckles. "You're doing so well, and you're almost there. Just a little bit more, and we can see our daughter. Think of that."
His words tore a sob right out of her, and Meredith shook her head. Something seemed to break, and the words came pouring out of her in a guilty, agonized rush. "I can't," she gasped, tilting until her forehead was just a hair away from his. "I can't, Derek. I'm sorry." She shuddered, tears mingling in with the sweat that streaked her face. "I wanna go home. Please, please… Let's go home, and we can take a nap." Her voice broke into a wail, and she clutched wildly at him, her nails scraping against the soft fabric of his sweater. "A nap," she whimpered again. "I can't… I'm so tired. You're tired. We need to sleep. Please, we need to sleep." Meredith paused as another contraction passed uneventfully through her, gasping at the pain and the pressure. And then she was off again, pleading wildly with him. "Please, Derek. I promise. Just take me home, and we'll sleep, and then… I'll do it. I swear." She nodded vehemently as she spoke, her voice filled with desperate, shuddering sobs. "I'll push. Ten seconds, no cheating," she added. "Derek, please." She clutched at him. "I'm tired. I'm so, so tired."
"I know," Derek whispered as soon as she stopped to take a breath. He leaned forward, his lips brushing gently against her brow. And then, she was being shifted forward, hands lifting her until she wasn't laying against the bed again. Her back was pressed against Derek's chest, her head resting against his shoulder. His arms reached around her, cradling her, and finding her hands. "I know you're tired," he continued, and his voice murmured against her ear. It sounded like …water. "I know, I know, I know." Over and over like a lullaby until she was sighing instead of shuddering.
Meredith swallowed hard, clenching his hands as hard as she could. The scale was still firmly broken at exhausted, but she was laying in Derek's arms, and that was almost as good as a nap. "I just…" she said, her voice small.
"I know," he repeated, pressing his lips to the side of her head. "I love you, Mer. I love you. You're the most amazing woman I've ever met. If anyone can do this, it's you."
She whimpered, leaning heavily against him. Closed her eyes and tried to push the needle up and away from exhausted, only to have it flop right back down. "No…" she whispered, not really wanting him to hear.
"Just one push," Derek continued, apparently still stupid enough to keep betting on his losing horse. "Can you push just once?"
Just once…
Meredith swallowed hard, trying to find some strength, somewhere. Once. She could do it one more time. For Derek.
She screwed her eyes shut, her face twisting with the effort. She grunted, grit her teeth and held her breath, and… Pushed.
She pushed an eighth time. Ten seconds, no cheating.
And as she did, Derek took her hand, guiding it down to fall between her legs. Her fingertips grazed against something solid and unfamiliar, the sensation sending a jolt through her body. Ticked the scale back ever so slightly towards excited. "What?" she gasped. "That's… Is that?" She trailed off, her lips pressed against Derek's neck as she let her head loll to the side, needing him to answer.
"That's her head," he promised, and his voice sent another sharp excited jolt through her body. The scale ticked back a few more points.
"The head? Her head?"
Derek nodded, his chin bumping gently against her with the motion, and Meredith pushed the ninth time without anyone telling her to.
"Oh, good job, Meredith," said Elizabeth, leaning forward in her chair. "One more push and the head will be crowning."
Meredith laughed, disbelieving. Derek's voice was once again a stream of encouragement pouring in through her ear. She gasped and tried to push, only to flounder a little…trailing off after a few seconds as exhaustion slammed back into her from behind.
"Tired," she croaked. Stupid, tired, losing horse. She couldn't even push when her baby's head was about to crown. Derek really should change his bet.
But he didn't seem to mind. He just wrapped her that much tighter in his arms, murmuring in agreement. "I know," he said softly. "It's okay. Take a minute to breathe, Mer. Rest, and then we'll try again." He whispered to her as she sucked down air like it was going out of style. Panted and panted and tried to convince the scale to swing straight back to excited all on its own. But the needle didn't shift at all. It just lay there, apathetic, ignoring her.
"Derek," Meredith said faintly, trying to get him to understand. The scale was broken once again. Broken.
"Alright, you can do this," he continued as the monitor gave away the arrival of the next contraction. "Just push, Meredith. Nothing else, just push. Please."
And she did. His voice coursed through her like oxygen, and she pushed a tenth time. It was ten long seconds of feeling as if she was being torn, stretched and ripped in two. Split decidedly down the middle. And then…
"Alright. Easy, Meredith," Elizabeth said. "The head's crowning. Don't push. Just give it a moment."
"Don't push?" echoed Meredith, feeling suddenly delirious. She fell back against Derek's shoulder even as he leaned forward slightly, and she let her eyes close.
"Okay, good," continued Elizabeth. "I want you to push again with the next contraction. Can you do that for me?"
Meredith just grunted in reply, gripping Derek's hand as hard as she could, trying to blot out the thought that she was being torn in half.
She pushed the eleventh time without hardly realizing, everything but Derek's voice just falling away from her. She thought she heard something more about the head… Maybe. At least she didn't feel quite so split in two anymore.
The twelfth and final push was quick on the heels of the eleventh. It was more instinct than effort. Meredith barely even realized she was doing it. It was sharp and intense, and then, suddenly… It wasn't. She gasped, trying to think, trying to process what was happening. Her eyes were still closed, and everything was still muted beneath the dusty layer of exhaustion, voices blurring as her thoughts drifted.
A baby. Had she just had a baby?
There was a split-second of uncertainty where all she could think was maybe… But then, a tiny, mewling cry split the air, escalating rapidly into an impressive shriek, and she knew. Her eyes flew open and she was staring straight at this little, slimy, wriggling, perfect thing.
"She's out," Elizabeth said, looking up with a smile. "Congratulations."
Meredith just stared, leaning weakly against Derek, following the baby with her eyes. It disappeared for a moment that felt far too long, and she wanted to cry out to bring it back. But then…it was there again. Warm and squirmy and alive, and being placed on her stomach by the nurse. "Derek," she gasped disbelievingly, staring down at the small little girl.
"Mer," he whispered back, his voice rich with awe. "She's perfect."
"Yeah…" She swallowed hard, clearing her throat. "She's okay, right? She's… Nothing's wrong?" Her voice was desperate and pleading as she stared down at the tiny little thing, suddenly afraid to touch it.
Elizabeth nodded, still smiling. "Your little girl just got a nine on her APGAR."
"A nine?" That was Derek's voice again, right against her ear. "See, Mer? Just born, and already she's impressive."
Meredith just nodded faintly, still staring at the baby. Derek's hand was wrapped around her belly, carefully cradling the child, dwarfing it so it somehow seemed even smaller. Small and wrinkled, with a delicate, pink bud of a mouth, and eyes that were squinting up at them. "You're… She's…" Meredith gasped, words failing her.
Slowly, she reached out, letting her hand drift down until her finger was trailing over the tiny wisps of hair that covered the tiniest little head she'd ever seen. "Hi," she said softly, still staring in disbelief. Her other hand gravitated towards Derek's, their fingers locking as soon as they touched, cradling their baby together. Meredith let her finger continued its journey down the small body; winding past a little ear, over a slender shoulder, and down a soft, narrow arm, towards a miniscule hand curled in a fist. She lay her finger flat against the fist, and suddenly, tiny fingers were wrapping around her own and holding tight. Tiny, perfect fingers. Her daughter's fingers.
"Amelia," she whispered, murmuring the name they'd picked out what felt like a lifetime ago. Her daughter's name--the name of the little girl that was actually laying there, holding her hand.
Meredith shook her head, and burst into tears.
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Derek stood perfectly still, staring transfixed down at the tiny little creature laying in front of him. She was perfect. That was really all there was to say. His daughter was absolutely perfect. She was asleep, dark lashes tracing delicate shadows just beneath her eyes. And she lay curled, her knees tucked tightly to her chest, her hands squeezed into these minute fists. These perfect fists. He sighed, a small wondering smile playing its way across his face. He could stand here forever. He could…except, already he missed Meredith. He could stand here forever if he had her standing next to him. They'd both fallen asleep not too long after Amelia was born, but he'd woken up after a few hours--too thrilled to rest. Meredith, though… The last time he'd checked, she'd still been sleeping; giving birth tossing her to a place far beyond exhausted. Still, after a last longing glance at his sleeping daughter, he found himself stealing back down the hall towards Meredith's room.
As he'd expected, she was asleep. Her hair spilled unkempt over the pillow, hiding her face from view beneath a veil of dark gold. Slowly, cautiously, Derek crept into the room, and towards the bed. He reached out a hand, brushing back the disheveled strands as softly as he could. Meredith stirred at his touch, snuffling quietly in her sleep. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to her brow, kissing her as gently as he'd touched her hair. It was just this feathery whisper of a touch--light as air. Still, when he straightened up, Meredith's eyelids were fluttering. Two slits of pale green appeared, focusing on him. She breathed in, the sound sharp and sudden, only to relax back into the bed with a sigh. A lazy smile floated across her face, and she opened her eyes a little wider.
"Hey," she murmured, tilting her head towards him.
"Hey." Derek watched her smile, and eased down into the chair beside her bed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."
Meredith rubbed her hands over her face, yawning into them. "No," she mumbled groggily, her voice still thick with sleep. "It's okay…" She yawned again, and finally lowered her hands. Blinking and bleary-eyed, she tilted her head towards him. "What time is it?"
Derek frowned, and glanced at his watch. "Five after four," he said. Meredith raised an eyebrow.
"In the afternoon?" she asked despite the sunlight filtering softly in through the small window. At his nod, she gave an incredulous shake of her head. "I was out that long…"
"You were," he agreed, scooting his chair closer to her. "How'd you sleep?"
"Like the dead, apparently."
Derek tilted his head to the side, studying her. Her eyelids still drooped heavily at the corners, begging to close. Her voice was quiet and worn, traces of exhaustion tinting her speech. His eyes filled with concern, and he pushed back away from the bed, about to get up. "I should let you rest some more," he said gently. Meredith just shook her head, stretching her arm out to wrap her hand around his wrist.
"Stay," she said quietly. "I want you with me. And Amelia…" A smile more gentle than he could ever remember seeing blossomed suddenly on her face, and she looked up at him, hopeful. "Where is she? She should be here with us."
"She's in the nursery," Derek said, getting to his feet. "You want me to get her?"
"Yes."
Derek half expected her to have already fallen back to sleep by the time he returned, wheeling the little isolette in front of him. But Meredith was still awake, and had managed to sit up. She lay propped up against her pillows, beaming at the sight of him. Wordlessly, she stretched her arms out for her daughter, eyes going straight to the crib and the tiny child curled inside it.
"You want me to get her out?" Derek asked, suddenly balking. He stared down at Amelia, who lay there looking infinitely small and breakable, and then back at Meredith, incredulous.
She frowned at him, and nodded her head. "Well, yeah."
"Out of there?"
"Yes, Derek. Out of there," she said flatly. "I want to hold my daughter."
"Right…" He glanced back down at the baby. Somehow, she seemed even smaller than she had a minute ago. He leaned forward. Brushed a cautious fingertip over her tiny foot, and straightened back up again. "Okay," he said, drawing the word out. "Pick her up. I can do that." He made no move to do so. Meredith heaved a sigh, throwing the blankets back from the bed. Derek turned around to find her halfway to easing herself down towards the floor, her movements slow and tentative. "What are you doing?"
"Well if you're just going to stand there," she said with a wave of her hand towards the isolette. "I'll go get her myself."
"No," said Derek quickly, cutting her off. "You just gave birth. Rest. I'll do it." She frowned, but settled back against the pillows, watching him. Again, Derek dipped back towards Amelia. He eased his hands slowly beneath her small body, only to pull away, straightening up once more.
Meredith quirked an eyebrow at him, her voice growing disbelieving. "Derek, are you…afraid to pick her up?"
"What? No! No…"
"Okay… Then pick up our daughter."
Derek nodded, staring wonderingly back down at the little sleeping girl. He touched a fingertip to the tiny tip of her nose, and looked back at Meredith. "She's just-- She's so small," he said at last.
"Of course she's small. She's under a day old."
"Just…" He looked at Meredith, cheeks suddenly reddening. "What if I drop her?"
"I'll kill you."
"Right…"
"Derek! Would you just pick her up already?"
He frowned, but gave another reluctant nod. Slowly, he leaned down once more, and lifted the child out of her bed. He held her as if she were made entirely of glass, taking slow, cautious, shuffling steps over to Meredith. "There," Derek whispered as he eased Amelia into the arms of her mother. The little baby let out a tiny cry, but hushed almost immediately, laying curled against Meredith's chest. Derek dropped back down into the chair, relieved.
"Hey," Meredith whispered to her daughter, her eyes wide and wondering. Gently, she pressed her lips to the top of the tiny head before glancing back at Derek. He met her eyes, only to look quickly down at his feet, embarrassed. "I don't believe it," she said quietly, teasingly. "You're a doctor. You have a small army of nieces and nephews. You've probably held more babies then you can count, but you're scared to hold Mia?"
"No. I'm not. It's just--" Derek sighed, and raked his hands through his hair. He took a breath, looking earnestly up at her. "She's so small, Mer."
"…Yeah."
"And, I don't want to hurt her," he admitted, letting his gaze drop back down to his daughter. She lay curled in Meredith's arms, still looking absolutely perfect. Even more perfect than she had in the nursery, if that was possible.
"I know that, but--"
"She's different," Derek continued, cutting her off. "Mia's different. I can't hurt her." He shook his head, still watching the baby, entranced. "I don't know what I'd do if I did."
Meredith's expression softened, her voice hushing to a whisper. "Yeah…I know the feeling." She pursed her lips together, her green eyes glistening beneath a sudden sheen of tears. "It's like… I can't believe we actually get to take her home, you know?" She glanced back up at Derek, grinning at him incredulously. "It's ridiculous. The hospital's just going to let us keep her. That doesn't seem very responsible…" She trailed off, her gaze dropping back down to her daughter.
"I know," said Derek quietly, with a grin as disbelieving and delighted as hers.
They fell silent, staring enraptured down at Amelia. Meredith's eyes stayed transfixed on the child, but Derek's attention floated back and forth between the baby and the woman holding her. He couldn't remember a time when Meredith had looked more beautiful to him than she did in that moment, laying back cradling their child against her chest. And, when she finally glanced up from Amelia's face to stretch out her hand to him, he thought his heart would burst.
"How do you feel?" he asked after he'd watched her slowly, gingerly ease over to make room for him on the bed.
"Tired," allowed Meredith. "Sore." A small sigh escaped her lips, and she curled up in his arms, "But, happy… So, so happy."
Derek smiled, and pressed his lips to her cheek. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
They drifted off into silence again, but, after several minutes of staring down at Amelia with their heads bent together, Derek cleared his throat. "So, you know…I took a poll."
Meredith quirked an eyebrow, glancing up to look at him. "A poll?"
"Yep." He reached out, and brushed his hand gently down his daughter's arm, grinning proudly. "And Amelia's the prettiest baby in the entire hospital. I asked all the nurses in the nursery."
"Oh you asked all the nurses, did you?" echoed Meredith, her voice teasing. Derek just nodded, his smile still proud, and a little bit ridiculous. She laughed, and shook her head. "Normally I'd say they're just humoring you 'cause you look like that, but…" She sighed, shifting Amelia in her arms so that her tiny face lay tilted towards her parents. "She really is the prettiest baby in the entire hospital." The little girl squirmed, her eyes squinting open to reveal slits of the deep navy blue of an infant's eyes. Meredith beamed down at her, adding, "And quite possibly the entire world."
"Yeah," Derek agreed quietly. "She is." Meredith just murmured happily in response, sinking deeper in his arms. Her head was nestled in the crook of his neck, his chin resting on the very top of her head; the two of them fitting together perfectly. Derek tightened his hold on her, feeling content to lay in bed with her and their daughter for the rest of his life. Her friends had all been up to the nursery countless times already, and he knew they were dying to come in and see Meredith with the baby, but…it was just going to have to wait. Maybe it was selfish, but he didn't want to have to share his family yet. He just wanted to sit and stare at Meredith and Amelia. Stare at them forever. His small, beautiful, perfect family. He couldn't quite believe that they were both his. That Meredith… That she had given him this. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice hushed, yet loud against the silence of the room.
Meredith blinked, pulling herself back from the hazy space she'd drifted to--somewhere between dreaming and waking. "What?" she murmured, twisting to meet his eyes. "For what?"
"Just…thank you," he repeated quietly. He stared down at his daughter, eyes shining reverently, before glancing just as wonderingly back at Meredith. "For this," he continued, his words rich with awe. "For having our baby."
"Derek," began Meredith, her voice hinting at protest. "It's nothing. Of course I'd--"
"No, it's something," he said, cutting her off. "It's definitely something. What you did today, what you went through…" He shook his head, his voice hitching a little. "You're amazing, Mer, and…I don't know how to thank you enough."
Meredith eyed him cautiously, not sure of how to respond. "I--" Her voice sounded funny, and so she fell abruptly silent. She glanced down at the baby in her arms, and then back up at Derek, uncertain. She didn't even realize she was worrying her bottom lip back and forth until he reached out with his thumb, brushing it free from her teeth.
"You get that I love you, right?" Derek asked, smiling at her. "That I love you and Amelia so much." He let his thumb drift from her lip to stroke her cheek, and she swore his eyes looked wet. "That every time I think I couldn't possibly love you any more than I do…you smile, and I find myself falling in love with you a little bit more."
"I get that," said Meredith quietly, her words less than a whisper. She hesitated, never quite sure of what to say the way Derek always seemed to be. It was as if the right words just rolled off his tongue without any effort. And so instead, she craned her neck until her mouth met his, and kissed him as hard as she could with a baby cradled against her. Her lips parted his, her tongue forcing its way gently, deeply into his mouth. She pulled him to her with her kiss, trying to make him feel just how much, how completely she loved him. When they finally pulled away, it was to stare straight into each other's eyes. Meredith swallowed hard, a shy smile suddenly flitting across his face. "And ditto," she added softly. "To everything you said."
-----
So yeah, the baby's finally born. It took awhile, but I didn't want to just let Mer pop the baby out like it was a piece of toast in a toaster. Anyway, this was a lot of fun to write. I was going to cut off right after Meredith gave birth, but then…Meredith and Derek kept insisting that I give them time to be all mushy and in love together with their new baby, so hopefully the fluffy-ness of the last scene isn't too much. And hopefully nobody hates the name! I think they'd be the types to pick a normalish name instead of calling her, say…Apple Shepherd or whatever. But yeah, they had their baby, and everything turned out fine in the end. There's one more chapter left and then an epilogue (because I'm a sucker for wrapping things up in a happy ending), but then it'll be over. It's a little shocking to me since I feel as if I've been writing this thing forever! But yep, that'll be it. Thanks so much for reading!