Cindy (cindyanne1) wrote,
Cindy
cindyanne1

The Standish Legacy

 





Generation One:  Morgana:  Part Three 
Warnings: language, semi-graphic birth scene






Morgana and George were married in front of the local judge, with two strangers called in from the street and their unborn child as witnesses.   

 

 

It wasn’t exactly the type of wedding Morgana had dreamed of, but if the ceremony lacked, certainly her marriage did not. 

Although financially they were doing better than ever and George brought home a good wage, still they were living paycheck to paycheck, buying what they needed for the house as it grew, and there just hadn’t been a lot of money left over once George proposed.  Morgana fretted; she’d always wanted a big wedding and she had several friends from work who would have attended, but George assured her as a theorist, he had found a direct correlation between the extravagance of a wedding ceremony and the incidence of divorce.

“Trust me,” he said, and Morgana couldn’t tell whether he was serious or not, “I’ve done extensive research... and the more money a couple spends on their wedding, the more likely they are to get divorced.”

Morgana punched him playfully on the shoulder. “You’re only saying that to make me feel better.”
 


His blue eyes grew wide with innocence. “No, seriously, it’s true!”  But he laughed, and Morgana never knew whether he was teasing or not. It didn’t matter. Their only means to have a large wedding would be to sell the new Smoogoo, and that would be foolish in her pregnant state. 
 




It wouldn’t be long before the baby arrived.
 


******
 


Morgana woke so abruptly it was as though someone had shaken her.  Lying in the dark, quiet room, she looked around as best as she could at the dim surroundings, trying to puzzle out what had caused her to awaken. Then, the residual tightness of her abdomen and a receding crampy feeling made her wonder... Was it a contraction that did it?  

She pressed a hand into her swollen belly.  There was still some tightness there and an achiness in her groin and lower back.  She turned and looked at George, but he was sleeping peacefully. No need to wake him...yet, she thought.   However, she knew there would be no more sleep for her until she knew whether or not she was in labor. She lay quietly and waited.
 


Slowly, slowly, the tightness started again. Morgana felt the muscle gather under her hand, then she felt an ache begin in her groin and grow, the pressure moving upward until it clenched her back and pressed on her ribs and held her there, immobile. She could do nothing else but breathe. 

Oh, this has to be the real thing, she thought, taking slow, deep breaths. The sensation resembled the “false labor” contractions she had been having off and on for quite some time, but was much more intense, and the false labor didn’t have the sharp cramps in her groin and back.  Morgana hadn’t looked at the clock when she had first awakened, but when the contraction subsided enough for her to move, she hurriedly moved blankets and pillows in order to see the clock on the night stand. 3:47am.  She got up and walked into the living room.

 


There would be more light there, and she could read to pass the time without waking George. 

Five minutes later, Morgana found herself breathing through another contraction. 
 

 
She wondered if she needed to call the doctor yet, but decided against it. The grandfather-like obstetrician had told her not long ago that she was “just barely three” centimeters dilated.  Surely this would take a while, and she wasn’t in too much pain. In fact, between the contractions she wasn’t in any pain at all. But perhaps a shower would be nice. She stood up, stretched, and began to walk to the bathroom.
 



Midway there, however, another contraction slowly crawled its way up Morgana’s abdomen and squeezed like a giant fist. Morgana abandoned the idea of a shower and gasped as the contraction reached its peak. 



Suddenly, she felt a warm gush of liquid run down her legs. Not being able to see her own legs past the swell of her abdomen, Morgana ran her hand along the inside of her thigh and brought it up to her face. Her fingers were dripping with clear fluid.

Oh this is it...this is really it, she thought, panicked. My water just broke! “George!” she yelled. “GEORGE...I NEED YOU!” She was afraid to move. The water continued to trickle down her thighs and pool on the hardwood floor.

Instantly, George appeared by her side. “What is it, babe? What are you doing out here?” he asked, his blue eyes full of concern. 

“My water just broke.” she told him. “The baby’s coming.” 

“Damn!” he swore.  Just then, Morgana was gripped with another contraction.

 


Without the barrier of the amniotic fluid, the contraction seemed stronger than before, and Morgana bent over, panting, bracing herself with her hands on her knees. 
 

 
George ran over to her, and she gratefully held on to his shoulders as his arms encircled her for support. “Do you need to lie down?” he asked her, looking worried.

“No...just...don’t move.”  Morgana panted. “Be fine...in...a minute...” 

The contraction receded and she straightened, wiping her forehead. “That was a strong one.” she told George, and smiled weakly.

 




She was standing in a puddle of amniotic fluid that had collected on the wooden floor, and more fluid was running down her legs.  George eyed it in horror. “I’m calling the doctor.” he decided, heading for the phone.

Morgana felt another contraction begin, and she lost herself in its depths. She could do absolutely nothing else but pant and pant. 
 

 
She heard the handset of the phone being lifted and her husband’s hushed, urgent voice “...I’m not sure,” George was saying.   “I was sleeping and I heard her call for me. She was in the living room.  I don’t know how long she’d been there...” 

The next thing she knew, Morgana was feeling George’s touch on her arm. “How are you doing, babe?” he asked her gently. 

“I’m fine...for now!” Morgana said. “But, oh George... when those contractions come...it’s so hard!” 

“Just take them one at a time, Morgana.” George told her with a worried smile. “That’s what they told us in that class, right?  There’s no way out of this but through it.” He rubbed Morgana’s belly. “And soon we’ll see our baby.”

Morgana smiled at him.  “George?”

“Yes?”

“I’d like to go lie down in the bedroom now.”

“But, but... Morgana, don’t you think we should…?” George began, but Morgana cut him off. 
 

 
“I want to lie down!”  she snapped. 

“Okay, okay...” George soothed her. “Whatever you want...”

Morgana couldn’t walk. She felt as though she couldn’t even move.  Yet, somehow, George half-carried her to the bed and gratefully, Morgana stretched out, sighing and closing her eyes.

 



Another contraction came, and this time along with it came an irresistible urge to bear down. It shocked Morgana, even as she felt herself pushing down and grunting. She had no control over it; it just happened.
 
George hovered near her,“You want to push now?  You’re pushing now?” he cried, panicked. “But this all started not even an hour ago!”

“But I...” Morgana could not finish. Another contraction seized her, and she began to pant hard. She gripped George’s hand so tightly she felt the bones crack and grind together.

“We need to go!” George said, prising his hand out of Morgana’s grip, scared out of his wits. “We need to get you to the hospital NOW!”

“George...I can’t move,” Morgana gasped. “Please, just... I want to stay here.”

 



“HERE?” George cried. “No, Morgana...you have to be kidding, right?  You're kidding!  You can’t stay here...you can’t have the baby h...”

“I’M TELLING YOU I CAN’T FUCKING MOVE!”  Morgana screamed, then her angry yells turned into groans of pain. She fell back onto the pillows, writhing.

“Okay, okay...I’m sorry...” George said, wondering to himself how in the hell he was going to handle this. Calm down, George, he told himself sternly. You’re a scientist for God’s sake...Get a grip!

Yet he knew nothing could possibly prepare him for what he was about to go through. His child being born, with only him to assist? This was certainly not what he had bargained for!

 



Morgana was bearing down with all her strength. No way out but through...no way out but through... she thought over and over as she pushed.  She wanted to scream...the pain was so intense. It felt like she was trying to force her insides out, or that she was being ripped apart. No way out but through...come on, baby!

The contraction subsided and Morgana fell back. George, realizing he had to do something, cautiously made his way to the foot of the bed and examined his wife. “Oh... fucking shit!” he yelped.

“What? What is it?” Morgana cried.
 


“The head, it's...it’s right there!” George gasped. “Right there, Morgana!” He looked nearly ready to faint and sat down quickly on the edge of the bed, taking deep breaths.

“Don’t you DARE pass out on me now!” Morgana said angrily. “Don’t you d...” but she couldn’t finish. Another contraction began, and Morgana followed her instinct; she put her chin down to her chest, squeezed her eyes shut and pushed.  She felt a sliding movement, then a sharp burning pain between her legs that made her stop pushing in surprise. “George...you need to get down there... NOW.” she gasped.

Weakly, George made his way back down to the foot of the bed, and what he saw made him gasp in awe.

A tiny face was emerging!  The tiny face of a tiny person!  Automatically and without hesitation, he reached out and gently helped guide this new life into the world, first the head, then each tiny shoulder. “That’s it, little one,” he murmured. “It’s much better out here...”

He suddenly realized this wasn’t all about him and what he did or didn’t want to see.  It wasn't even all about his wife and the pain she was feeling.  No, it was all about the life he now held cradled in his arms, smeared with blood and dripping with fluid.

 


“It’s a boy,” he said to Morgana, wonder filling his voice. “A son.” He cuddled the child to him. 
 




“Welcome to the world, Kevin...” he murmured.



To Be Continued...


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