Chapter 7: The Delivery
It had just started to rain when Chavez left the Spice Shop earlier in the afternoon, but it was full on thunderstorm-ing now. Adalind paced back and forth in the Spice Shop basement, stopping every once in a while at the potions table to take deep breaths. Nick followed about two steps behind her, and it seemed to Adalind that he was asking if she was alright about every ten seconds.
"Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" Nick asked yet again.
"No," Adalind growled. "You heard that woman. Do you know how easily someone can kidnap a baby from the hospital? Even with your police people hanging around? Better safe than sorry. And seriously, just get out of my way." And she just kept on pacing. The last child was so much easier—only six months of pregnancy and labor was over in twenty minutes, start to finish. This one was taking its sweet, sweet time. Adalind glanced at the clock. Six hours in and the contractions had only started to speed up.
They decided to have the baby at the Spice Shop, so Rosalee would have access to all sorts of potions and herbs lest any of them came in handy. Over the past few hours, Monroe and Rosalee had transformed the basement into a birthing center. The small couch that Adalind presumed she'd be giving birth on was covered in lots of sheets and towels; there was a small basin in which to wash the baby; and finally, there was a small suitcase of onesies, diapers and Adalind's clothes that Nick had picked up from their house earlier.
"Adalind," said Rosalee, "Do you want some ice cubes? I've also got some skullcap root for you to chew on, it can help soothe the pain. Monroe, get some ice cubes from the freezer." A nervous Monroe knocked over a small cauldron, tripped over the area rug and nearly fell down the stairs as he followed his wife's orders.
"Men." Rosalee shook her head and looked over at Nick, who looked as lost and nervous as Monroe.
A deep sharp pain shot up Adalind's belly and she fell to her knees. "Ugh….I think this is it."
Rosalee took charge right away. She gestured for Nick to carry Adalind to the couch. Monroe was then sent upstairs to boil water, which, Rosalee whispered to Adalind, was just a ploy to get him out of the way. Rosalee asked Nick to move over to Adalind's head and just hold her hand. Things all of a sudden started to move at lightning speed.
Rosalee's voice trembled with excitement, "Um wow, okay, Adalind, you're ready to push. On the count of three. Take a deep breath and one, two, three…"
"OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW." Nick screamed as Adalind pulled his hand to her mouth and took a good old bite.
"Good. Good. Oh he's coming," Rosalee shouted over Nick's whimpering. "He's coming fast. Another push, ok? On three. One, two, three, push!"
Nick pushed a small towel towards Adalind's mouth in anticipation of another chomp down. This time, Adalind just opened her mouth in a silent scream. A small flicker of Hexenbiest rippled over her face, ever so faintly, and disappeared just as quickly as it came. And when Nick looked over his shoulder, he saw Rosalee pull out a grayish, whitish, bloody and messy mass.
"He's here," said Rosalee, "He's out! And in his amniotic sac. Quick, Nick, scissors, quick."
Nick did not remember how or where he found the scissors—his fingers were trembling so—but he handed them over to Rosalee. With the slightest touch, the sac burst open and there he was. His son. The baby started wailing right away.
Adalind was crying and laughing, "Is he ok?"
"Ten fingers and ten toes! This kid's got some lungs. Nick, cut the umbilical cord." Said Rosalee, her hands still shaking. "And Monroe, come down here with that water!"
Rosalee wrapped the baby in a soft warm towel and handed him to Nick. Nick was surprised at how light the baby was. He had stopped wailing but was now flailing around in Nick's arms.
"Yes, those are your arms," he said quietly and handed the baby to the weary Adalind. Tears of relief and joy streamed down her face as she kissed the newborn on the forehead.
"Oh sweet baby," she kept murmuring, as she ran her fingers along his face. At that moment, it occurred to Nick that he had never seen anything more beautiful.
"It's auspicious, you know," said Monroe when he returned with the warm water. "To be born with the amniotic sac intact. It's called an en caul birth. They say those born en caul are destined for greatness."
"Oh great," said Adalind, as she rolled her eyes. "Another child destined for greatness."
After cleaning up the baby and Adalind, Monroe and Rosalee went home. It was well into the wee hours of the morning, and everyone was beyond exhausted. Nick was sprawled on the floor next to Adalind's couch, keeping vigil over mother and child.
"What are we going to name him?" Nick yawned as he reclined against the foot of the couch.
"I was thinking that you should name him," Adalind said softy, as she took a whiff of the sweet scent from the baby's head.
Nick looked over at the small little bundle in Adalind's arms. Still red and bloated, it was too early to tell who he looked like-but he definitely had the signature dark brown curls of the Burkharts.
"Jacob," he said. "Jacob Reed Burkhart."