Chapter 15

Serra

"Mother fucker," I grunted with my teeth clamped shut. This wasn't the plan. That's all I could keep thinking is that this wasn't part of the plan. I was going to have a nice, relaxing delivery. This is the exact opposite. I'm sweaty, I feel like I'm being ripped in half and honestly, this is worse than being tortured in Hell. I don't know how to do this.

I glanced up at Sam and gripped his hand as tightly as I could. "You're doing so well, baby," he was saying and I wanted to be nice to him, I really did. But I was in a lot of fucking pain.

"Shut up, Sam," I gasped, laying my head back on the pillows.

Sam laughed, which is why we're supposed to be together. He takes my shit and doesn't second-guess me. "This will be over soon and we'll finally get to meet him."

I clenched my teeth together as another contraction started, or didn't really end, I couldn't tell the difference anymore. I nodded and for the first time, I wanted to push. "Get Alana in here," I gasped. "I feel like it's too early to push, but I want to."

Grace opened the door and stuck her head in. "Are you pushing already?" she asked, obviously hearing my thoughts. "Want me to get Dr. Alana?"

Sammy nodded, eyeing Grace. "I think so."

The pain was something that I wasn't ready for. The urge to push was ridiculous, but it hurt too much to try. Grace told me with the twins that it was a relief to push…right now, it was worse. Something wasn't right.

Alana came in, then, pulling her gloves on and smiling at me. "You're whipping through labor, Serra. This is great. Not so bad, huh?"

"Fuck off, Alana."

She chuckled, knowing my personality, so I didn't feel badly about swearing at her. Sam continued to hold my hand, wanting to be as invisible as he could be. She leaned forward to check my progress and made a face. "What?" Sammy said, concerned at the look on her face. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing Serra can't handle," she answered, pulling off a glove and leaning back. "You're at ten centimeters, so you're ready to push, but the baby is breech. It's gonna be harder to get him out." She stood and opened the door, gathering nurses and getting ready for me to push. "You're gonna have to dig deep, Sere. He's folded in half, butt first. I can see him."

"Son of a mother fucking dick bastard," I said, pulling words out of my ass, just to make myself feel better. "Can't you turn him?"

Alana shook her head. "He's already down into the birth canal, Serra. There's no way." She glanced at the monitors and smiled, "But his heartbeat is steady, he's calm. Your blood pressure could stand to go down a bit, but all in all, you're primed and ready to deliver. It's just going to be harder because he's backwards. You're gonna have to work really hard to get him out."

I wanted to cry. Or scream. Or break something. Sammy looked like he wanted to cry, so I tried to smile at him reassuringly. "It'll be okay, Sammy," I found myself saying. "I can do this."

"I know you can," he replied, taking my hand from the bar on the bed. "You're the strongest person I know."

"Liar," I said, gritting my teeth as the next contraction came. "Oh, shit."

Alana sat on the stool at the end of the bed and looked up at me. "Alright Serra. Let's get this done. Ten second counts, take a breath and dig in again. Three sets of pushing each contraction. Ready?"

I nodded and Sam started counting. The pain was incredible.

…

Grace sat on the edge of the chair next to Dean with her head in her hands. Leaning forward, Dean had a hand on her back, rubbing it gently, trying to keep her calm. "She swears like a sailor," Grace said under her breath.

Smiling, Dean nodded. "One of her redeeming qualities," he said, looking sidelong at his wife.

"Shut up," Grace said, unable to hide her grin. "I have an urge to go in there to help, but I don't want to get in the way."

"She's okay, Gracie," Dean sighed, tossing his coffee cup in the trash next to him. "If she wants you to come in, she'll tell you."

"The baby is breech," she whispered, closing her eyes and listening to the conversation. "Serra is scared."

Dean shook his head and looked up at the delivery room. "What does that mean, breech?"

"It means he's upside down. Butt first."

Making a face, Dean turned to stare at Grace. "Oh my God. Can she push him out like that?"

Nodding, Grace sighed. "Yeah, she can, but there's no relief when she pushes, like I had with Everett and Glory. It felt good to push." She gestured to Serra, "When she pushes, it hurts more."

"Oh, I'll bet that's going over well."

…

"Oh my fucking God," I gasped as another contraction ended and I threw myself back, trying to rest as much as I could in between. "This hurts so fucking much."

Sammy remained silent, still rubbing my back and trying to be supportive. "I know, but you're making progress," he said, smiling. "Stuff is happening down there."

"Stuff besides trying to push a watermelon out a hole this big?" I shouted, holding up my hand. "Grace!" I yelled. "Grace, get in here."

A few seconds passed and my sister walked through the door, her face apologetic. "Make it stop," I said, close to tears as soon as I made eye contact with her, "I can't do this. Make the pain stop."

Sam moved to the other side of the bed as my sister stood next to me, feeling my forehead and smiling gently. "I can't, kiddo. This isn't something I can stop. It's natural."

"It hurts so much, Gracie."

"I know," she said, nodding, her eyes on the monitor behind me. "But it's an hour out of your life for a love that's bigger than all of us." She stared at me, her blue eyes pleading, "You need to pull your shit together. Contraction starts in four seconds. Push. Push harder than you think you can, and then push more."

Sam took my hand on my right side and Grace took my hand on my left and as the contraction took me, a calm came over me that I knew was Grace's influence, and I squeezed my eyes shut as I sat up to push. Somewhere deep in my brain, I could hear Grace's voice. "Ten, nine, eight, seven…" she was counting back, timing the push.

I gasped as she ended her count and took another breath as Sam's voice started again. "Ten, nine…" he was counting as I pushed, harder than I thought I ever could. Finally, there was some relief as I felt Levi finally break past the barrier. I finally made some progress as Sam ended his count.

I took another deep breath as Grace smiled at me. "One more time and I'll bet he's out," she said. I barely heard her. I shut my eyes and leaned forward as hard as I could, Sam moving with me as I brought my hands down to the bed rails.

"He's out!" Sam said, loud next to my face. "He's here, Serra, open your eyes."

Relief spread through me as I cautiously opened my eyes, looking for my son. Alana held him up, his body still covered in afterbirth, but I didn't care. He opened his mouth and began to wail, a pathetic sound that echoed through the delivery room. A nurse wrapped him in a light blanket and smiled up at Sam. "Do you want to cut the cord?" she asked him as he struggled to hold it together. Tears flooded his eyes as he glanced up at me, and then over at Grace. She nodded, reassuringly, and he took a step towards the baby.

I leaned my head back, still gasping for air and still in quite a bit of pain. I turned to stare at my sister and questioned, Why does everything still hurt?

"Because she had to cut you," Grace answered quietly, stroking my face. "She has to stitch you up."

I shook my head. All of that sounded truly awful. I didn't want to deal with anymore, so I shut my eyes, waiting for Sammy to get back to my hand after cutting the umbilical cord. Alana got my attention once more as a final contraction forced me to push again. "There, now you're done," she said, smiling. "They're getting him cleaned up and weigthing him."

Grace nodded at her and smiled down at me. "He's perfect, Lucky. You're a mom."

"Oh, shit," was all I could think to say.

Sammy came back, wiping his face with the back of his hand. "He looks just like Everett," he was saying, "more hair, same nose." Sam laughed. "We have a son," he said, kissing my forehead as Alana closed me up. "I can't believe he's finally here."

Grace was backing up out of the room, making a minute for Sam and me to have a moment together with our new son. I glanced up at her before she made it through the door and I smiled at her. Thank you, big sister.

She grinned as she pushed through the door, back towards Dean.

I turned to Sam, who was grinning and crying, having only eyes for me. The nurse came closer from behind Sammy, holding Levi, wrapped in a blanket and a tiny hat. She laid him in my arms and I stared down at him, Sam getting as close to us as he could. He touched his cheek tenderly and kissed me on the head. "Hi, baby," I said, smiling. "I know you."

…

Grace sat next to Dean, her hand finding his as she closed her eyes and smiled. "Well?" he said, leaning forward, grinning.

"I'll let Sammy tell you," she replied, grinning. "He's coming."

The door flew open and Sam strode towards Dean as he stood to greet him. "Levi Adam," he declared proudly, "Eight pounds, one ounce! Fifteen and a half inches long." Sam opened his arms and Dean laughed, wrapping his baby brother in a hug, "He looks like Rhett."

Dean chuckled again, shaking his head, "No kidding," he said. "Congratulations, Sammy."

They all hugged again, Grace joining them.

…

Two days later, Serra and Levi were discharged from the hospital, happy and healthy and ready to start their lives at the Small House, riding home in the Tank. Afterall, both Serra's truck and Sam's El Camino only had a bench seat.