A/N: I daresay this is a chapter you've been waiting for. It's rather lengthy and comes with a slight trigger warning for actual birth information - not hideously graphic, but enough that it might bother some people. I don't want to give anything away, but be forewarned. This isn't my personal history per se, although some parts come from personal experience and some from a great deal of research.

My eternal thanks to brenna-louise for the beta. :) Also, a shout-out to you amazing reviewers, particularly the guests to whom the only replies I can give are these. MWAH!

xx,

CSotA

Sunday, January 3, 2016

She'd been awoken by the feel of his lips traveling swiftly over her bare shoulder ... up her neck to the earlobe, nipping along the way, then brushing across her temple before he moved the hair aside and made his way back down. She tried to turn, but his broad frame was holding her in place; she could feel his heart beating, and its quickening pace mimicked that of her own.

The heat of his hand joined the hotness of his open-mouthed kisses, of his palm traveling up and underneath her chemise and caressing her breast. She gasped; he murmured something in her ear and she was suddenly aware of the darkness in the room, that it must still be the middle of the night and that, thankfully, the rest of the house was asleep. His hand dipped between her thighs, and she unwittingly moved herself back against him, smiled contentedly at the feeling of him pressed up against her. But as he shifted, moved to lift her leg higher, she shook her head: No, she told him; that's not what she needed.

Thankfully, he'd always been a good listener.

He whispered in her ear again - a question, and she grabbed at his hand, managed to push him onto his back and slowly sit herself up so that she could turn and face him in wordless reply. It had been a precarious thing for her, moving about over the past several days, and he knew that rolling onto her back to get on her other side was no longer an option; he remained still and watched her, this beauty of a woman, his woman, and he found himself astonished once again that she was his wife. His eyes drank in the sight of her as she stood, stripped the chemise and matching underwear from her body, and tossed them toward the foot of the bed. She carefully climbed back on, now completely disrobed, and he held a hand out to steady her as she maneuvered her way over to him.

He removed his boxers quickly and, suddenly, she was above him, smiling down; he reached up to caress her, to hold onto her hips as she joined them in one swift, expert move, and he once again thrilled at how right it felt when she wrapped him up within herself.

They'd had to become masters of this silent lovemaking and, somehow, she felt it had lent a passion to them that they hadn't possessed before. All emotion was conveyed in caressing, squeezing, kissing, and gazing into each other's eyes. And tonight was different still: primal, needing, unplanned, and earth-shattering, the both of them finally spent as he helped her to lie down comfortably in his arms. She felt him once again brush her shoulder with his lips, now sleepily, as they drifted off to sleep.

Dawn broke a few hours later, and his eyes opened slowly. He felt the warmth of her in his arms, and a moment later he realized they'd forgotten to dress themselves again before falling back to sleep. He managed to slip his arm out from under her and sit, locating his shorts and putting them back on before reaching down for her gown, wondering where her underwear had landed. But then he peeked under the sheet and realized that she'd actually managed to get those back on at some earlier point in the night.

Likely one of the four times she headed into the loo, he thought with a smile, and his heart thudded as he realized it would then have been intentional that she'd neglected to don the gown, too. He knew she liked to feel his skin on hers as they slept, and he figured that she'd been counting on his early-morning waking to remind her to dress before one of the kids might pop in, upset about some emergency or other, such as being out of milk or arguing over the television channel. The barrage of all of those thoughts - the passion, the comfort, the warmth, and thoughts of their family - assaulted him, and he had to catch his breath.

"Here, love," he whispered after a moment, and she smiled as she opened her eyes, holding her hand out for what she knew was the nightie.

"Thank you." She sat slowly, gingerly, and slipped it over her head before crawling back under the sheets. He spooned behind her once again and caressed her swollen belly with his warm hand, feeling the movements underneath it as he smiled into her hair.

"If that was the last time, I'd be a happy man."

She laughed at that, and rested her hand atop his. "Better not have been," she answered sleepily. "Much too early yet."

"I know," he said, sighing happily. "But soon it will be the last time for a while."

"Don't remind me." She shifted and tucked herself back a bit, and his arms were full of her once again; he breathed deeply, inhaling the familiar scent of her, unable to remember a time when he didn't know it.

"You won't even miss it," he said, chuckling softly. "You'll be too exhausted."

She knew this was probably true. Isobel has prepared her for the pain of childbirth, for the recovery from it all (which she honestly hadn't given a thought to previously). Everyone prepares the mother for the birth but not the after part, she thought, and she was grateful to have Isobel in her corner, giving her all of the information. She'd been told it would be weeks before she and her husband would be able to resume any sort of intimacy, and she'd been warned that she likely may not even miss it. That had scared her, really. She'd always been so blissfully aware of their mutual desire, and the thought of not feeling that was intimidating to her.

"I don't want to forget what it feels like," she whispered, lending voice to her thoughts. "To want you like this."

He reached over and kissed her on the temple, and he squeezed her tightly.

"Don't worry, love," he soothed her. "You won't."

She nodded, trusting him as she always had, and she drifted back off to sleep, lulled into peacefulness by his soft, steady breathing.

Elsie woke suddenly, feeling the bed empty behind her.

"Charlie?"

She was puzzled, and she was astonished to look at the clock and see that it was after nine. She managed to get up and dressed, and then she headed down the hall for what she hoped would be an excellent day.

"Good morning!" Daisy greeted her brightly. "Birthday breakfast!"

Elsie laughed as Daisy wrapped her arms around Elsie and the baby, and she placed a kiss to her girl's head.

"I can see that! Smells lovely. Where is the birthday boy?"

Charles tilted his head toward the staircase as he flipped a pancake. "Shower," he explained briefly. "He's excited, though, which is great."

She nodded and stole a strip of bacon from the plate on the counter, folded it in half, and popped it into her mouth.

"Hungry?" Charles asked with a smirk, one eyebrow raised playfully, and she felt herself flush a bit.

"Yes," she retorted. "I'm not really sure why …"

"You're working up an appetite," Daisy said innocently, and Elsie almost choked on her bacon. "Carrying the baby around; it's hard work, Isobel said."

"That it is," Charles agreed, enjoying the look on his wife's face as she regained control of herself. She refused to meet his eyes, but he was delighting in the little conversation.

They heard Tommy come down moments later, his hair still wet but combed back, and a new hoodie and jeans on. He was barefoot, something that Charles couldn't comprehend in the middle of winter. He looked at Tommy's feet and turned away before rolling his eyes.

"Happy Birthday, dear," Elsie said, giving Tommy a sideways hug and a kiss to his temple. "You're going be taller than me pretty soon," she added, and he chuckled.

"Thanks," he said, and Daisy came to give him a hug. "I'm not sure that's saying much," he added with a laugh, and Elsie swatted playfully at his arm. "This smells amazing."

"I hope you like it," Charles said, placing everything on the table. "Let's eat."

They passed plates around, a veritable feast before them: pancakes, bacon, sausage, fresh fruit salad, fried potatoes, and eggs.

"I'm not going to have to eat for a week," Tommy laughed.

"Yeah, right," Daisy said. "You eat a ton of food!"

"Well, he's a teenage boy now, Daisy," Elsie said, helping herself to some syrup. "They eat a lot because they grow quite fast."

"I remember going through that," Charles mused. "And when I wasn't eating, I think I may have been sleeping."

They joked around throughout the meal, until Daisy asked about the rest of the day.

"Well, that's up to Tommy," Elsie said, looking at him. "What would you like to do today? It's the last day of vacation, too."

"Can we go to the movies?"

Charles and Elsie shared a smile. "Why not?" Elsie said.

"Just like last year," Tommy clarified. "I feel like it's right, that we go today. One year from the beginning, I guess."

"Hey, that's pretty neat," Daisy said. "Yeah, cool."

Elsie pulled out her phone and flipped through the selections at the cinema in Portland. "Okay, let's see. There's not much out that's appropriate for us all, I'm afraid. Star Wars again? Or there's this Chipmunk sequel."

"Yes!" Daisy shouted, looking at Tommy. "Oh, but I mean, it's your birthday; you pick. Sorry."

He laughed at her and shook his head. "No, don't worry. The Chipmunks are fine with me."

"Papa won't like it," Daisy chuckled.

"Well, Papa, what do you think?" Tommy asked with a smile.

Charles looked up from his plate suddenly, a question for Tommy in his eyes, noticed by the boy before it blew away.

"I think I can manage," he said gruffly, rising from his seat. "I'll pick up here, and you all can make the final arrangements. Care to invite Jimmy?"

"Sure," Tommy said, a peculiar look now gracing his face.

Charles cleared the table and headed to the kitchen, and Tommy felt Daisy's eyes on him.

"I meant it as a joke," he said softly. "I think."

"Did you? I mean, it sounded like you did, but …"

"I know. And I have been thinking about it."

Elsie watched them with interest. She'd had no idea they'd discussed Tommy calling her husband anything besides Charles; neither of the kids had ever mentioned it. She was happy that they talked about things between them ... important things, such as she and Becky used to do when they were younger. She'd never have expected such a close relationship to have developed between Tommy and Daisy this quickly; then again, they had quite a bit in common.

"Elsie? What do you think?"

She looked up to see the kids looking at her. "Sorry, I was miles away," she admitted. "What was that?"

"Well," Daisy began, playing with the edge of her placemat, "Tommy and I were wondering if we should pick something that we would call you and Papa - the same words for each of us, I mean, so the baby's not confused when we talk to it."

Elsie's heart melted, and she sat back with her teacup in her hands, resting on her belly. "Oh, sweetheart, I don't think the baby will be confused at all. But that is totally up to you two. We aren't making that decision for you; it's whatever makes you comfortable. And you don't have to agree. I'm sure the baby will manage."

"We know," Tommy said. "But it just feels strange, the way it is now. You know what I mean?"

She nodded, understanding what he was saying but unable to relate to it herself.

"What did you call your mother?" Daisy asked suddenly.

Elsie smiled softly. "Mam," she said, and it sounded a bit like Marm. "A bit different than the English or American way, but not much. My mother was from generations of farming families, and it was how they all called their mothers. And my father was my Da."

"I called mine Pa," Tommy said with a scowl, "but it doesn't matter, as he wasn't."

Elsie looked back and forth between the children, nibbling her lip as she contemplated them.

"Charles and I will go along with whatever you wish," she finally said. "Whether you change things or not, it doesn't change that we're a family."

The corner of Tommy's mouth curled up a bit. "No, it doesn't."

"That was really funny!"

The kids started discussing the movie as soon as the lights in the cinema came up, rehashing all of the jokes and having trouble deciding on whether or not it was better than the first movie (with the three of them being in agreement that the Squeakquel didn't even bear discussing, it had been so bad.)*

Charles helped Elsie up from her chair and they headed out, following the kids but at a much slower pace. Suddenly, Elsie stopped in her tracks and squeezed Charles's hand tightly.

"Ow," she moaned. "What the hell was that?"

He turned to her, terrified. "What? Are you alright? Is it the baby?"

"It was … ohhh, that's better … a twinge, or something. Here," she said, pointing to the area where her leg and pelvis joined. "Well, that was new and exciting."

"But it's fine now?"

"Yes, it seems to be," she said, mystified. "I think I'll chalk it up as normal until I see Richard tomorrow for my check-up."

"Bed for you when we get home, I think," Charles said. "You've already been up and about too much today."

"We went to one restaurant, where I dutifully sat, and one movie - also sitting. I've hardly over-extended myself, love. Besides, we've Tommy's cake and gifts at the house, and that won't take long. I promise to go to bed after that."

"Alright," he agreed warily. "But any more twinges and I'm calling Isobel."

"Deal."

But there were no more twinges. They dropped Jimmy off, and Tommy headed in with him to thank Mrs. Kent for the Doctor Who hat and t-shirt that the Kents had given him. When Tommy jumped back in the car, they all headed home.

Everyone got comfortable in the living room, and Charles brought the cake out to a chorus of Happy Birthday.

"Aw, that's brilliant! It's too bad the Masons aren't here to enjoy it. Mrs. Mason did a marvelous job on that!"

The cake was an enormous Tardis, paying homage to Tommy's current favorite show, and Beryl had dropped it off while they were out. They cut into it and served it around with vanilla ice cream, and Elsie told the kids they could have another piece if they wished.

"Present time!" Daisy squealed after scarfing down her last bite of cake. She ran upstairs to retrieve the packages, which had been hidden away in her closet, and returned swiftly.

"Thank you," Tommy said, examining the packages Daisy deposited on the table. He reached out for the one he was sure was from her, pretending to shake it and listen to it despite the fact that he was most certain it was a book.

Peeling away the paper, Tommy gasped. "It's not a book," he said, and Daisy laughed.

"No, it's not. But I knew it would fool you."

The item in question was shaped like a book, but it was hollow: a box with a hinged lid that was designed to resemble a book but which was really for storing things on the inside, hidden away. As Tommy lifted the lid, he smiled: inside the secret compartment was a clock- and watch-cleaning kit, complete with gloves.

"Oh, wow," he whispered, examining the back of the package. "This is great!"

"Tell me about it," Elsie said. "Now perhaps the grandfather clock in the hallway will work correctly again!"

Tommy's face lit up. "You'd let me work on that?" he asked. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," she nodded. "Here you go; this one's from me."

Tommy watched as she shoved a large, heavier box toward him, and he tore away the paper and opened the lid.

"No way," he whispered. "This is crazy." He pulled out various DVDs of Doctor Who. "This is the entire set," he added, mystified as to why Elsie would give him such an extravagant gift.

"It is," she verified. "I know you love it, and it's a shame that you've never seen some of the older ones. I thought we should rectify that."

"Wow. Thanks!" He spent a few minutes examining the individual DVDs before putting them back in the box and turning to the remaining package.

"And that one's from me," Charles said softly.

Tommy took the small box carefully, looking at Charles curiously; there was something odd on his face, but Tommy couldn't identify it. He saw Elsie reach over and take Charles's hand, though, and suddenly Tommy was wary of what was in the box.

"It won't bite," Elsie said gently.

"I'd hope not," Tommy said with a laugh. He gently removed the paper and bow and found himself holding a wooden box, with no writing anywhere on it. It seemed familiar, somehow, and he spent a moment looking from Charles to the box and back again, turning the box over in his hands ... and then it clicked.

"No way," he said, shaking his head. "I'm not meant to have this."

But Charles was having none of it. "Open it," he insisted, motioning to the box with his finger.

Tommy complied, lifting the lid to reveal a crushed velvet interior … and, nestled into the velvet as he knew it would be, was Charles's old pocket watch.

"I can't accept this," he said again, shaking his head. "I can't."

"You can, and I hope you will," Charles emphasized. "Elsie gave me a new one for Christmas, because I'd planned for you to take over the care of that one."

"But … it's too much," Tommy protested. "It's like ... an heirloom or something."

"It is," Charles verified. "It was my father's. He gave it to me when I turned thirteen, and now I'm passing it along to you. 'Every man should own a proper pocket watch,' he told me. It's only fitting that you inherit it now, as you turn thirteen, particularly given your fondness for timepieces."

"But I'm … I mean, I'm not … not really …" Tommy was at a complete loss for words.

"You are my son," Charles said, finding the words that Tommy could not. "In all the ways that matter - really. And, as such, that goes to you today."

"But … what if you two have a son? The baby ..." Tommy stammered. "You won't want for me to have this; he'll really be yours."

"We already do have a son," Charles insisted. "As the eldest, that is rightly yours. I insist."

Tommy brushed his finger over the surface, over the scrolled design carved into it. He glanced at Charles's waist, where he saw the new chain dangling, and he realized that Charles had, indeed, been using the new watch since Christmas Day. He'd wondered why Elsie had gotten him a new one; well, now he knew.

"And the kit will help you to keep it clean and in great shape," Daisy added. "They kind of go together."

"And the Doctor Who stuff," Tommy said with a smile. "Time - it's like the theme of my birthday."

"Time moves on for all of us, Tommy," Elsie said sagely. "It's whether or not we move with it that's the question."

He nodded slowly, turning the watch over and over in his palm, understanding what she meant.

"Yeah," he whispered, looking up at Charles and smiling at last. "It does." His eyes teared up, but he managed to nod his thanks, the gesture returned in kind by his father.

Friday, January 22, 2016

It was Elsie's last day of work. The baby was due in another month, and while she'd tried her best to work up until her due date, it had become increasingly clear since Tommy's birthday that she'd be unable to do so. Her health was good for the moment, but she'd been working only part-time - three days a week since they returned from the holiday vacation. Jen was working out marvelously, though, and the kids really liked her - something that made Elsie much more comfortable about going out on maternity leave.

She'd just finished updating a student's file when she stood up from her desk … and promptly gripped the edge of it, leaning forward as a sharp pain made her catch her breath. The pain started in her lower abdomen and fanned out over her belly, making her stiffen and focus on relaxing until it passed.

"Elsie, I have - Oh, my goodness, are you alright?"

Joseph Molesley rushed over to her, laying a hand on her back and grasping her arm with the other. He eased her back into her chair and noticed her pale complexion and the sheen of her forehead.

"I'm fine," she managed. "Just had an unexpected pain."

She grasped the arms of her chair and stood again, albeit with some difficulty. "They've been happening off and on for a few days - false contractions, Isobel and Richard said. Nothing to worry about."

"Okay ... if you're sure," Joseph said, sounding for all the world as though he didn't believe her. "I just came in to give you this file on Suzanne. It's got copies of the letters I sent home to her parents."

"Perfect." She reached to take it, and then felt something … odd.

"Oh … Oh, shit," she gasped.

Joseph looked up at her, terrified. "What is it?" he whispered.

She looked up and met his eyes, her face the epitome of calm. "Joseph," she said carefully, "please go and get Phyllis for me, and then please have the front office fetch Daisy and Tommy. My water just broke, and I'm going to need to go to the hospital."

"Now?" Joseph asked, stunned.

She nodded her head, biting down on her lip as fear started seeping into her mind. "Yes, Joseph. Now."

Elsie was lying on the hospital bed in a johnny, with Charles by her side and rubbing her hair gently from her face. "It's too soon," she whispered, a tear streaming down from the corner of her eye. "It's too soon, Charlie."

Isobel was running her hands over Elsie's abdomen, pressing and feeling at times. "I'm going with eight-twelve," she said. "Eight pounds, twelve ounces; maybe as much as fourteen," she explained to Charles. "I think this baby will be just fine. How sure are you about the date of conception, Richard?"

"We could be off," he replied from his spot by the computer, "but likely not by much; all of her development benchmarks were spot on."

"Well, I'm almost never wrong," Isobel said. "In hundreds of births I've been at, I've been wrong about the baby's weight exactly three times. This one seems quite close to full-term."

"And the baby's size is an indicator of his or her development?" Charles asked.

Isobel looked at him and paused before answering. "Not exclusively," she said honestly. "But it's a good sign."

Just then, a wail from Elsie made everyone jump. She reached her hand out and grabbed Charles's, and he rubbed her shoulder as he attempted to soothe her and calm her breathing.

"Surely this type of pain isn't normal!" she exclaimed.

"We're bringing you for an ultrasound," Richard said. "That'll show us for certain the baby's position. The twinges you've been experiencing up until this point are typical for pregnancy at this stage, though, when the cervix can become pinched between the pelvic bone and the baby's head, and the false contractions are normal as well. But now that you're in labor, the contractions will be progressively worse - much different than the false ones you'd experienced before - and they'll be closer together as the hours go by. I don't think you have anything to worry about, Elsie, but we're going to check just in case, to see if the baby has turned at all. That would cause you an inordinate amount of pain."

"Okay." The look on her face said she thought this was all anything but okay, and she watched as Richard and Isobel headed out of the room for a while, presumably for Richard to set up the ultrasound while Isobel went to the waiting room to talk to the kids.

Charles brushed his wife's hair out of her face again. "Sit up, if you can," he said softly, and she complied. He reached into her bag and removed her hairbrush and an elastic hairband, and began to brush through her locks before braiding the hair and tying it off with the elastic. The gentle movements calmed her immensely, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"You can braid hair?" Elsie asked, chuckling. "How did I not know this?"

He peered around her body at her and dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. "I can now," he said. "Daisy taught me."

"You're the perfect father, you know."

He laughed. "Hardly."

"I'm scared," she whispered. "Oh, Charlie, it's so early."

"Not that early," he volleyed. "Thirty-five weeks and a healthy weight. We're going to be fine, Elsie. The baby is going to be fine."

"You can't know that!" she cried, but any further argument was cut off by Richard's return to the examining room, an orderly trailing behind him to wheel Elsie off.

"Alright, here we go!" he said, and they headed to the ultrasound room.

As Elsie rested back on the table, managing yet another contraction, Charles watched her in wonder; he led her through the controlled breathing once again, and then held her hand as Richard quickly got the ultrasound under way.

"Everything looks good," he muttered, moving the wand around swiftly. "Vitals are good, and everything looks well-developed. Head's in position … Isobel seems to have been right about the size ..."

He continued to mutter, but Elsie was already a bit calmer. She asked who was with the kids, and Richard verified that Isobel was sitting with them until Mary was able to get there.

Suddenly, she half-sat up and looked at Charles. "Has anyone called Beryl and Becky?"

"I did, as I was on my way here," Charles explained patiently. "Beryl's going to pick Becky up soon and then they'll come here and sit with Isobel and the kids."

She nodded, then rested her head back as Richard wiped off the gel. "Alright. That's good."

"Elsie?" Charles asked.

"Yes?"

"We're going to have a baby tonight," he replied, awestruck. "And I love you."

She chuckled, and reached out for his hand once again.

"You daft man," she whispered. "I love you, too. More than anyone ever has."

The next few hours, however, brought little progress. Elsie was tired by this point, and frustrated. She'd avoided taking anything for the pain up until that point, but she wasn't sure she'd be able to hold out much longer.

And then the fetal heart rate monitor sound changed, the beeping going from steady to slow.

"Oh no!"

"What is it?" Charles asked, looking at the machine. "Oh, my God …"

"Charlie? It's the baby's heart rate. It's dropping - what's happening?!"

Richard and Isobel had rushed into the room by then, with Isobel reading off some numbers to Richard as a nurse recorded them. The heartbeat stabilized again, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

"Elsie? I'm going to see how far dilated you are, alright?" Richard asked calmly, and Elsie nodded. Richard bent before her and examined her, and she could read the answer on his face before he spoke.

"It's not enough, is it?" she whispered tearfully, and he shook his head as he removed his gloves.

"No, not for this stage in the game," he said. "Because your membranes have ruptured, we need to deliver within twenty-four hours of that happening. You're only four centimetres; I'm afraid it's no better than when you arrived."

"So what do we do?" Charles asked.

"I would normally recommend Pitocin, to induce the contractions to come faster," Richard said. "It will force dilation."

"Not interested, as you know," Elsie said, and Richard nodded. "Next option?"**

"Cesarean section," Richard said abruptly.

"You can't be serious," Charles barked. "She's in labor now! Surely that's not necessary."

Richard looked at Elsie and then back at her husband. "You asked me what I'd do. We can go another couple of hours without the Pitocin and see where we end up, or we can start the Pitocin now."

"No, I won't do that," Elsie said forcefully. "I'd rather the C-section. It's safer for the baby."

"But, Elsie -" Charles tried.

"No."

He sighed, but held his tongue.

"Alright," Richard said, having thought up a compromise. "If you can manage, Elsie, let's give it two hours, and then we reevaluate. If you get below seven minutes between contractions, we'll be doing better, and I'd be comfortable continuing toward a vaginal birth."

"And if I don't, then wheel me in. The baby is stable now, correct?"

"Yes," Richard said. "The heart rate is back to normal."

"Okay."

But two hours brought no change, and Richard came in to see how they were doing. He pulled a stool over by Elsie's side and peeked at the printout from the monitor.

"I think it's time to get prepped for a C-section, Elsie," he said, matter-of-factly. "The baby's size is against you with your small frame, and while I think you could deliver this baby on your own given enough time, your body seems to have other ideas. Your waters broke at one o'clock, and it's now eleven; we can push it longer, but the longer we wait the more exhausted you'll be. In my professional opinion, it would be too risky for the baby, not to mention the danger to your spine as you're walking about and laboring for all that time, and we'd quite likely end up right back where we are now, anyhow."

"I know," she said. She reached over and took Charles's hand, and her blue eyes blazed fiercely. "You'll be with me, won't you? I can't do this without you, Charlie."

He squeezed her fingers and nodded tearfully. "I won't leave your side, I promise."

She looked back at Richard. "And you'll perform the surgery?"

He nodded. "I will."

"Let's do it." She looked at Charles. "We really are having this baby today."

The next ten minutes were filled with bustling activity. Elsie opted for an epidural for numbing her abdominal area, and this was to be administered when Charles left the room to scrub up and don a surgical cap and gown, which would allow him to be in the operating suite with his wife.

As he prepared to wash up, he took a few moments to calm himself and to shoo away any thoughts that this surgery would be putting Elsie in danger. It's a very common procedure, Richard's voice sounded in Charles's mind. I'll take very good care of her. You know that. And Charles did know, but the thought of losing either Elsie or that baby frightened him to his core.

Isobel joined him, briefly, to explain that she'd be with the children the entire time, and said she'd been sent in specifically to tell him that they sent their love to their 'Papa and Mam.'

Calming thoughts went by the wayside as tears overcame him, and Isobel handed him a handkerchief, allowed him to weep gently in her presence for a minute or two before firmly telling him he had to get himself together in order to be there for his wife. He nodded and wiped at his tears, thanked her, and finished scrubbing himself spotless, allowing the harshness of the brush on his hands to pull him back into the immediate reality of the situation. But his heart was a bit lighter now, and he couldn't wait until their family of five was complete. He said a brief prayer for the safety of Elsie and the baby, and then he allowed a nurse to tie his gown behind him.

Meanwhile, Elsie was being prepped for surgery.

"Stay as still as you can," Richard coached, and Elsie obeyed, breathing deeply and steadily as the anesthesiologist positioned the needle at the base of her back. "The procedure takes about fifteen minutes, and you have to remain perfectly still. You'll begin to feel the effects quickly, and we'll test you about twenty minutes after he's finished to be sure that everything is numb."

"Got it." She exhaled deeply and, after several more minutes, the anesthesiologist declared her ready.

Elsie noticed the onset of the numbing just as Charles was re-entering the room.

"Alright, let's see here …" Richard tested the effects of the epidural, and declared Elsie ready for surgery.

"Ready to have a baby?" he asked, smiling kindly at the couple.

Elsie reached out for Charles, and he took her hand and leaned over to kiss her forehead. "You bet," he said.

Elsie was wheeled into the operating room, and the hum of activity was drowned out by her husband's calming voice as he sat by her head and reviewed baby names with her, distracting her with chatting about what the baby might look like, and teasing her about the baby's size.

"I'm dreadfully sorry about that," he said, feigning seriousness.

"About not mentioning it until after you'd had your way with me?" she asked lightly, winking at him, and they heard Richard chuckle from where he was stationed in the room.

"Precisely," Charles said, eyebrows waggling. "Many, many times, as I recall," he added in a murmur that only Elsie could hear.

She smiled lovingly at him. "Wonderful times, too." And he nodded, leaning down to kiss her head through the cap under which it was hiding.

"Okay, we're ready," the nurse said, hooking up the sheet that would shield Elsie's lower body from her upper half. She looked up at Charles. "I'm aware that you can see what we're doing down here, Mr. Carson, if you so choose." She paused. "Most husbands don't look, though, so there's a seat there, by your wife's head. You can just talk to her as we go through it. The birth itself will take about ten minutes, and at that point you'll be too distracted to care about anything we're doing here," she said, smiling.

"Alright," he agreed, sitting.

"Here we go," Richard said. "Elsie, at times you'll feel pressure, particularly when we actually get to where we remove the baby. But you should never feel any actual pain, and if you're nauseous, I want you to tell us immediately."

"Right."

"Alright then, making the first incision …"

Elsie and Charles were silent as Richard mumbled through the first couple of steps, each focused on her remaining as calm as possible.

"How're you doing over there?" Richard asked once.

"Fine," came Elsie's reply. "Excited, to be honest."

"Perfect. Alright, we're about to get the baby's head out."

Elsie felt a bit of pressure.

"Oh, my, but you're a big one, aren't you?" Richard said sweetly, and it jolted Elsie's heart to realize that he could actually see her baby … was talking to him or her.

Suddenly, Elsie tugged on Charles's hand. "Charlie, look. Can you do it? Please? I need you to see our baby come into the world. For me."

He looked into her pleading eyes, clamped his lips together firmly, and nodded. Standing, he prepared himself for what he knew would be an awful sight - his wife's body in a way he'd never imagined seeing her - and looked over the barrier.

He gasped, but what caught his attention was not the blood, nor the surgical opening, but rather the sight of his baby: a head full of dark hair, below which were sturdy shoulders.

"Oh, Elsie," he whispered. "It's … it's our baby."

A nurse suctioned the baby's mouth and nose, and Charles dissolved into sobs as the rest of the baby's body was removed.

"It's a girl," he managed.

Elsie moaned, and Charles was back by her side in an instant, kissing her temple, with his tears causing her own to fall.

"Are you in pain?" he asked, but she shook her head.

"No, that last bit was just … odd. I felt it, Charlie. I felt … something. I knew the instant she came out. Oh, my God, Charlie … another darling little girl." He reached over to brush her tears.

"It's officially eleven twenty p.m.," Richard told them. "We'll note that for you."

"I have to hold her," she said after a moment, and Charles looked up at the nurse.

"She's just being weighed, Mrs. Carson. And she looks perfectly healthy." And just as the words were out of the nurse's mouth, a cry sounded from across the room.

Moments later, the nurse brought a squirming, red-faced bundle over to Elsie and placed her on her mother's chest, the gown having been moved aside by Charles for the skin-to-skin contact that Elsie wanted; Elsie reached her arms up and cradled her babe to her breast.

"Can I try to nurse her?" she asked in a whisper, and the nurse nodded.

"You can, actually. Michelle, can you assist?"

A young, red-haired nurse headed over to help Elsie adjust her gown and position the baby over her breast. "Mr. Carson, we'll need you to help hold the baby, like this," she said, demonstrating, and he nodded. "Make sure her nose isn't blocked. She may not latch on immediately, but oftentimes they do."

A few moments later, Elsie wept with happiness at the sight of her baby girl rooting and then latching onto her breast, a sight she never thought she'd ever see.

"Pull her upper lip out a bit, like this," the nurse coached, moving the lip as she spoke, "so that it's not trapped. It'll help with her suckling."

"It looks like it's too much for her to manage," Elsie said, but Michelle shook her head.

"It's perfect - you want the mouth opened as widely as possible. Keep an eye on her. As you know, the first several nursings are all colostrum*** and so it won't feel like much at first, but it's the most important thing for her to get into her system. Nursing will also help your uterus to heal."

"Okay," Elsie said, unable to tear her eyes off of her baby's face. She was mildly aware of Richard and his team finishing up the surgery, but she couldn't break her gaze away to look even up at Charlie.

"We have a beautiful baby girl," he said again. "My God, Elsie, you did such an amazing job. She's perfect."

"She looks like us," Elsie marveled.

"Your nose, thankfully," Charles said, and she laughed.

"And all that hair!"

As soon as Elsie was stitched up, Richard was by her side. He looked down lovingly at the baby, and then smiled at her parents.

"You did a remarkable job, Elsie," he said. "Her APGAR scores are wonderful despite the C-section.**** We'll monitor her for a bit, but as long as her lungs are healthy, she'll be treated as a full-term newborn."

"How much does she weigh?" Elsie asked, and Richard laughed.

"Eight pounds, fourteen ounces. Isobel was right on the money."

Elsie looked up at her husband. "Your girl, through and through."

"Daisy was just over six pounds, if I remember correctly," he teased. "So you can't really blame me. I think it's all that hardy farmer stock that you brought to the mix."

She smiled and shook her head, then felt a gentle tug on at her breast. The baby had unlatched and had fallen asleep, her head gently resting over her mother's heart.

The next hour was spent getting Elsie into recovery, where she and Charles were given a laundry list of instructions, most of which involved Elsie not moving a muscle without someone else's help.

"Prepare for it to take half an hour to use the toilet, and no way are you in there without either a nurse or your husband to help," she was told.

"We've done that before," Charles laughed, "so all set. Next?"

"The baby will be brought in for nursing every couple of hours, but between feedings, you are to rest."

"I need to see my other children," Elsie told the nurse, whose name was Penny. "I refuse to sleep until I see them and we introduce them to their sister."

Penny smiled. "Understood. We'll get your baby girl in here in about ten minutes, and then send them in. Do you have a name chosen yet?"

"We do," Charles said, "but we can't share that with anyone until we tell Daisy and Tommy."

"Fair enough."

Charles and Penny got Elsie set up in bed, pillows fluffed behind her.

"Feeling anything in your back or abdomen yet?" Penny asked, but Elsie shook her head. "Alright, well, Dr. Clarkson was adamant that you tell us when you do. He's a bit concerned after your spinal fracture, although all signs look positive as you weren't terribly uncomfortable during the pregnancy itself. A cesarean was definitely the best route for you, as it put so little pressure on your spine."

Elsie nodded, and looked at Charles. "Go get them, please," she said, and he leaned down to kiss her before heading out to fetch the kids.

As soon as he rounded the corner, Elsie laid her head back on her pillow and sighed deeply. She moved her hands to rest on her belly, only to have them plop down unceremoniously underneath her breasts, the absence of the enormous baby bump having been momentarily forgotten. She felt a pang in her heart at the loss, and couldn't quite manage to quell it until she heard the sound of rolling wheels as Penny brought the baby's cradle in and placed it by Elsie's bedside.

"No lifting," Penny warned, reaching into the clear cradle herself to remove the baby before placing her gently in Elsie's arms.

"She's so warm," Elsie marveled. "And so pink!"

"She's beautiful," the nurse said softly. "Congratulations."

"Thank you."

As soon as Penny had left, Charles came back into the room, accompanied by Daisy and, behind her, Tommy.

"There you are," Elsie beamed, reaching her free arm out to wrap first Daisy and then Tommy in a hug.

"How are you feeling?" Tommy asked.

"Wonderful," Elsie replied. "Tired, but wonderful." She patted the bedside by her hip, and Daisy gently sat beside her, yawning widely, with Tommy taking the chair by the bedside. Charles rounded the bed to the opposite side, where he sat in a second chair. He reached his finger underneath the baby's hand, and she grasped it tightly in her sleep.

"Daisy, Tommy ... meet your new sister," Elsie said. "Juliet Catherine Carson."

"Catherine," Tommy said. "That was your Mum's middle name, wasn't it?"

Elsie looked up at him and smiled tearfully, and nodded. "I can't believe you remembered that," she said.

"It was written in that book you let me borrow, the one that had belonged to her," he confirmed.

"Yes, I remember." She shared a fond look with him, a silent acknowledgement of a loss shared and mutually understood.

"Juliet, like in Romeo and Juliet?" Daisy asked. "I've heard of that."

"Yes," Charles said. "Like in that."

"The one who loved her Romeo so very much," Elsie added in a whisper, looking deep into her husband's eyes, "and who couldn't bear the thought of ever living without him."

Becky and Beryl came in for a brief visit, but other than them, Richard, and Isobel, everyone was banned from Elsie's room for the next twenty-four hours, allowing her some much-needed rest. Charles brought the children home, and Becky and Beryl would be staying with them when he returned to the hospital; he stayed at the house only long enough for a quick shower and to pack a bag for the next couple of days, as he refused to be anywhere but right by Elsie's side.

Charles kissed Daisy good night and, as he was preparing to leave, he caught up with Tommy in the hallway. They stood for a moment, staring at one another.

"Did you really mean it?" Charles asked quietly. "What you said?"

Tommy nodded slowly. "We did. That is, if you don't mind. Papa … it's odd, but I'll get used to it," he said with a smirk. "Daisy couldn't imagine calling you anything else."

Charles extended his arms, and Tommy moved over to hug him.

"I don't mind at all," Charles said gruffly. "I'm honored - as your Mam will be, when I tell her."

"Well, that's alright then, isn't it?"

Charles nodded. "Indeed it is."

Whew! Please do leave a review and let me know what you thought of it all. Two chapters to go, and both will be up within the next week. xxx

*Not the personal opinion of this author. If you have no idea what I mean by this movie stuff, IMDb "Alvin and the Chipmunks" movies. :)

**Pitocin can produce contractions that are abnormally stronger and closer together than natural ones, and some studies show it can decrease oxygen flow to the baby. In an already high-risk pregnancy, particularly one where the baby's size is so large, it's often avoided in favor of other options. In addition, a C-section is often performed when a baby is over 9 lbs. in weight if the mother's frame is small. Many options, with little time to decide …

***Colostrum is generated in late pregnancy, and is a rich, golden substance that comes in before the mother's milk. It's basically very highly-concentrated nutrition, and is what the baby receives during the first couple days of nursing, before the regular milk comes in. This isn't a PSA about nursing, just informational in a story where the mother has chosen to breastfeed.

****Appearance, Pulse, Grimace, Activity, Respiration - tests that show how well the baby is tolerating the birthing process. They are often lower with babies born via cesarean section, but not always.