Naquadah Tipped Warheads & Banana Smoothies ~ Over 16s ~ 11 of 11
Details, disclaimers and Part One here
Part Two here
Part Three here
Part Four here
Part Five here
Part Six here
Part Seven here
Part Eight here
Part Nine here
Part Ten here
Dowload the mp3 podcast for this chapter by clicking (right click to save) here
Monday, Nov 5th, 2007
Jack, it’s Daniel.
Yeah, I know, not who you were expecting, but me anyway.
Now, if any of this doesn’t come out right, you’ll just have to stick with me because I’ve been up since 3am, it’s now 11.30pm or something and I haven’t had nearly enough coffee, okay?
I can’t congratulate you enough - you are dad to a beautiful, strong, gorgeous, *loud* infant!
Did I mention beautiful? And LOUD.
And perfect, Jack, absolutely perfect, no problems at all. Sam is also fine, very tired, a bit sore but incredibly, radiantly happy and they are both sleeping right now.
She asked me to get this down because there was no way she could manage it today and there is so much to say.
Believe me, there is so very much to say.
Let me get coffee.
By the way, I promised Sam I wouldn’t look at any of her past entries and although it’s tempting, I won’t.
I’ll have to start where I think she left off.
Which was yesterday. Yes, she was at the CMC on a Sunday. Don’t get mad - she wasn’t in for long, but she and Siler were calibrating an ion resonator - a doohickey to you - and they needed the lab when it wasn’t going to be busy.
I’m assuming that you know already that the baby is late... it was due on Oct 27th ...and we’re waiting. By the way, you should be aware that Sam has been taking very good care of herself, and she’s had quite a bit to deal with, you being MBK and everything. I wish more than ever that you had been here to witness her determination and strength these past few months and after what I witnessed today, I am in awe of her.
Jack O’Neill, you are one damn lucky man.
Meanwhile, back at the lab, Sam’s back is playing up - Siler tries heat packs, chocolate and back rubs to no avail. Eventually, Sam calls it a day and Siler calls *me* right after she leaves and tells me to be on Sam-delivery-watch (you may recall, he has six kids).
I get some shuteye, no fire, boots on, and I do indeed-y get a call at 0302 hours from a very breathless, soon-to-be-mother-of-your-child explaining quite rationally in between gasps that she was halfway to the Academy hospital but has turned off to Cheyenne instead as the baby is coming. Like *now*. Can I please (please? She says please when she’s in hard labor!) call Dr Lam and meet her there?
After I get hold of Carolyn (thankfully she’s already at the base on duty), I grab the video camera along with my Cruiser keys and I think I must have broke every speed limit on the planet and a few that aren’t to get the CMC... the gate guards are waiting for me and wave me through with lots of pointing. If they’re rattled... crap... I spot Sam’s Volvo almost immediately, mainly because half the medical staff are clustered around it... I think I did swear at that point. And pray.
Parking was interesting - I hit General Ashbee’s Hummer. My passenger side is caved right in and he’s lost a few paint scrapings, so no biggie. I jump out, remember the camera, and do the two minute mile over to Sam (and you know I don’t do running). Sam is white as a sheet and obviously in pain. Carolyn is trying to entice Sam into a wheelchair, but every time she (Sam) sits down, she gets up again - the pain is coming in waves and she feels she wants to walk. Carolyn gives up and gets Steve (big guy nurse, dark hair, comes in handy when one of us gets possessed by aliens again) and me to help her across the parking lot and into the elevators. I look behind us and we’re being followed by the nursing staff like we’re the Pied Piper of Hamlyn (Germanic urban myth, I’ll explain it to you one time).
Sam is leaning on me with each contraction - every three minutes and getting her out of the main elevator and across to the SGC elevator is a problem. She’s pale, out of breath and sweating heavily by this point but not making much noise - I can tell Carolyn is really, really worried.
I love your girlfriend more than I can say at this point.
At last we’re on level 21 and about fifty paces from the infirmary. Sam suddenly pulls away from me and starts to squat! My heart rate hits the roof and Carolyn calmly says something like; “Colonel Carter, it’s way too cold to have your baby in the corridor!”
The look on Sam’s face is nothing short of desperate. I don’t know how we managed it, but Steve and I grab her arms and get her into the infirmary and over to a bed... Carolyn is barking orders (she’s scary when she’s in charge) and there’s people running everywhere.
And then I hear her.
Sam has bent herself over the hospital bed, one hand is on her stomach and the other grabs the sheets and begins to pull... she must have been in so much pain... she’s whimpering. What an awful sound - I’d preferred her screaming and cursing.
She was saying your name, Jack. Begging you to help her. Asking you to save the baby.
I remembered the video recorder and I tried to video, but my hands are shaking - I had to turn away, I was almost overcome with what you would call sloppy stuff. Then Becky Rush is all business (did you know she was a qualified midwife as well as an RN?) and is asking Sam about pain relief, she can’t get an answer - I think Sam was having a contraction? Becky manages to ease her maternity pants down and does a quick internal exam, and coolly announces that Colonel Carter is fully dilated and pushing and if I’m staying, will I please not get in the way?
Steve is shoring up Sam from the side, Becky is giving gas and air, and Carolyn is at the business end, calling for - dear Lord - a flashlight. It became clear to me that Sam is going to have your baby, YOUR baby - standing up. I’ve delivered three babies now, and all the moms have been so considerate as to lie down... standing up is something else. I’m filming all this very badly and then remember to call encouragement to Sam, who is drenched in sweat by this time.
I don’t think I’d ever heard her use the F-word before, until then. It was something about putting the f*ck*ng camera down and helping... so I did.
She wants her top off, it’s stuck to her with sweat at that point, and whatever madam wants, madam gets, so I do the honors before she leans back over the bed, now with only her brassiere on. Her hair, longer now than you will remember it, is plastered to her head, there are two very bright red spots on her cheeks, but the rest of her is so pale... she’s clutching the same sheet with that same hand. I wish I could help her, I wish I could make it all go away and yet I’m desperate to see my niece or nephew. I stand on the other side, smooth her hair and rub her neck, Carolyn is angling the flashlight up towards Sam’s tusch, and Becky is readying forceps in a towel.
The reality of Samantha Carter - the girl I’ve virtually grown up with - one of the original SG1 - soldier, scientist, superwoman - about to bring a child into the world, about to become a mother - I was so afraid for her at that moment.
I can *feel* the power with which the contractions are gripping her; tight ripples across her skin, radiating over her body to where I’m holding her hand. She’s sweating and gasping and pushing and I swear, I’m sweating and gasping and pushing along with her.
Then I hear her again.
Asking you to save the baby. YOU.
It breaks my heart, Jack.
Carolyn hears her and she’s saying that’s not necessary, that the baby will be here any minute because she can see lots of ginger hair (GINGER!) and can Colonel Carter please concentrate to get her breathing under control? Perhaps it was fortuitous that Dr Lam was not within a good punching angle.
I think Sam is using every one of her muscles in an effort to get the baby out. All I can see is her eyes, looking up at me, full of pain and fear.
I’m really scared at that point.
Sam takes a sharp breath in… my hand is crushed beyond all feeling... her eyes squeeze tight shut
~ohmythebabyiscoming~
There’s a flurry of activity at the end that I can’t see - then a noise like a small pop and the sound of liquid hitting the infirmary floor, two more pushes and Becky and Carolyn are all arms and towels and whoa!
Becky’s got this bundle in her arms - I can see a bit of skin and blood wrapped in a blanket and Carolyn’s saying something about suction and now I’m actually terrified. There’s no noise coming from the child!
The crushing sensation round my hand lessens and I realize that Steve is lowering Sam onto an infirmary chair swathed in yet more towels. Why isn’t the baby making a noise?!
Becky is rubbing the baby’s face and Carolyn is doing something with a small plastic tube.
“Please.” A plea. From Sam. So tired. Her arms are outstretched towards the pathetic muddle of cloth and child but everyone looks so serious.
I can’t bear this. I couldn’t endure losing one more child in my life.
The bundle is put into Sam’s arms...
.. but then I hear the sweetest music.
Not Angels.
Not Baroque.
The sound of a tiny baby screaming its head off and Sam sobbing with happiness.
If I never live another day, I will die (again) with the knowledge that I was present at the most personal and sacred of human events. It happens everyday, every minute, all over the planet, where a new life joins the human race with all its hopes, failings, frailties and ingenuity.
I am overwhelmed.
Steve is sniffing, Becky is grinning like an idiot while she expertly clamps the umbilical cord and even Carolyn’s eyes are suspiciously bright. “Would you like to cut the cord?” she announces.
Me?
I look to Sam for confirmation. Her face is pink, her eyes scream exhaustion, but she’s laughing and nodding, so I take the medical scissors and I do just that.
*snip*
You’re on your own now, kiddo.
Wait! What am I like?!
“Sam!”
Everyone looks me.
“What is it?!” I don’t know yet!
Sam is smiling that blinding grin of hers and pulls away a little more of the towel.
Oh boy. “He takes after Jack, alright!” I announce loudly.
The laughter and the tears that follow are sweet.
You have a son. He’s perfect. And sleeping.
Congratulations.
***
A few hours later, there’s quite a crowd gathering outside the infirmary. Carolyn Lam is trying to ignore it, but she has her own way of running her sickbay and contending with Sam-fangirls and boys is not something she is entirely happy about, especially since an SGC birth was *un*expected.
There is a solution. I’ve been filming Sam trying to give your son his first breastfeed but it didn’t go as well as she’d hoped. Becky is reassuring: it’s all about finding the best position and they’ll both learn from each other. Although Sam has managed a quick shower while the baby was asleep, she is looking totally worn out now and it’s obvious from the dark circles that she isn’t going to last much longer and visitors are a no-no.
I take matters into my own hands.
“Sam, why don’t I take him and show him off a bit? That’ll make everyone happy.” I turn off the video camera and start packing it away so she takes the hint.
The new mother is gazing into her son’s eyes. “No, I want him here with me; they can come in one by one now I look more like a human being.”
Carolyn is hovering and we exchange glances. Mom needs to rest. “They can come back *tomorrow*. All they want at the moment is a quick peek and that will be enough.”
Junior seems to have dozed off, one strong fist balled in his mouth. Sam is fingering a pale blue crocheted blanket that Wendy Mitchell sent which is wrapped around her baby’s tiny body and strokes his hand that sports surprising long fingernails. “Oh, alright, but not long; just a few minutes.”
Ha! “Okay.” I hitch round to Sam’s side and lift the mass of baby and blanket into my arms. I love that feeling of holding a baby and he’s so pretty - I felt quite broody myself!
Sam falters. “And only you are to hold him. Pass the parcel will have to wait for another day.”
I nod. “Gotcha.”
“Two minutes and he’s back with me.” Okay. I do what mom says, little one, she’s the boss.
I’m half-way through the privacy curtain when a thought strikes me. “Sam?”
“Mmm?” The kid won’t be the only one asleep soon.
“Can I tell them his name?” I hold him tighter.
She yawns, lashes dark against her pale skin. “Sure.”
I carry the precious, cherished life out to his well wishers. Sure enough, the ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ are an indicator of one who will win many hearts in the future.
I hitch him up slightly so our friends can get a better view. His eyes squint open a little; so he wasn't asleep. “Faker,” I whisper over his head. So many friends. Hank, George, Cameron, Cassie, even Siler and Harriman and many others standing respectfully at the back. Some people are missing though, so there is sadness here too.
I stand holding your son and regard these lives that you and Sam have enriched and saved and brought happiness to, and muse over the journey that has brought us all to this point.
So much love.
And in the end, that’s what it’s all about, because in the end, that’s the only thing that carries the hope down through the years.
I clear my throat and I swear your son glares at me. I know I’ve seen *that* look before. I think I was pretending to be the Wizard of Oz at the time…
I pull the delicate blanket a little further away from the baby’s face, mindful of any chill on the newborn’s skin.
“Hello friends. Meet Jonathan Jacob Carter O’Neill, son of Jack and Sam.”
Love.
It’s the thing that carries the hope.
***
The End
Part Two here
Part Three here
Part Four here
Part Five here
Part Six here
Part Seven here
Part Eight here
Part Nine here
Part Ten here
Dowload the mp3 podcast for this chapter by clicking (right click to save) here
Monday, Nov 5th, 2007
Jack, it’s Daniel.
Yeah, I know, not who you were expecting, but me anyway.
Now, if any of this doesn’t come out right, you’ll just have to stick with me because I’ve been up since 3am, it’s now 11.30pm or something and I haven’t had nearly enough coffee, okay?
I can’t congratulate you enough - you are dad to a beautiful, strong, gorgeous, *loud* infant!
Did I mention beautiful? And LOUD.
And perfect, Jack, absolutely perfect, no problems at all. Sam is also fine, very tired, a bit sore but incredibly, radiantly happy and they are both sleeping right now.
She asked me to get this down because there was no way she could manage it today and there is so much to say.
Believe me, there is so very much to say.
Let me get coffee.
By the way, I promised Sam I wouldn’t look at any of her past entries and although it’s tempting, I won’t.
I’ll have to start where I think she left off.
Which was yesterday. Yes, she was at the CMC on a Sunday. Don’t get mad - she wasn’t in for long, but she and Siler were calibrating an ion resonator - a doohickey to you - and they needed the lab when it wasn’t going to be busy.
I’m assuming that you know already that the baby is late... it was due on Oct 27th ...and we’re waiting. By the way, you should be aware that Sam has been taking very good care of herself, and she’s had quite a bit to deal with, you being MBK and everything. I wish more than ever that you had been here to witness her determination and strength these past few months and after what I witnessed today, I am in awe of her.
Jack O’Neill, you are one damn lucky man.
Meanwhile, back at the lab, Sam’s back is playing up - Siler tries heat packs, chocolate and back rubs to no avail. Eventually, Sam calls it a day and Siler calls *me* right after she leaves and tells me to be on Sam-delivery-watch (you may recall, he has six kids).
I get some shuteye, no fire, boots on, and I do indeed-y get a call at 0302 hours from a very breathless, soon-to-be-mother-of-your-child explaining quite rationally in between gasps that she was halfway to the Academy hospital but has turned off to Cheyenne instead as the baby is coming. Like *now*. Can I please (please? She says please when she’s in hard labor!) call Dr Lam and meet her there?
After I get hold of Carolyn (thankfully she’s already at the base on duty), I grab the video camera along with my Cruiser keys and I think I must have broke every speed limit on the planet and a few that aren’t to get the CMC... the gate guards are waiting for me and wave me through with lots of pointing. If they’re rattled... crap... I spot Sam’s Volvo almost immediately, mainly because half the medical staff are clustered around it... I think I did swear at that point. And pray.
Parking was interesting - I hit General Ashbee’s Hummer. My passenger side is caved right in and he’s lost a few paint scrapings, so no biggie. I jump out, remember the camera, and do the two minute mile over to Sam (and you know I don’t do running). Sam is white as a sheet and obviously in pain. Carolyn is trying to entice Sam into a wheelchair, but every time she (Sam) sits down, she gets up again - the pain is coming in waves and she feels she wants to walk. Carolyn gives up and gets Steve (big guy nurse, dark hair, comes in handy when one of us gets possessed by aliens again) and me to help her across the parking lot and into the elevators. I look behind us and we’re being followed by the nursing staff like we’re the Pied Piper of Hamlyn (Germanic urban myth, I’ll explain it to you one time).
Sam is leaning on me with each contraction - every three minutes and getting her out of the main elevator and across to the SGC elevator is a problem. She’s pale, out of breath and sweating heavily by this point but not making much noise - I can tell Carolyn is really, really worried.
I love your girlfriend more than I can say at this point.
At last we’re on level 21 and about fifty paces from the infirmary. Sam suddenly pulls away from me and starts to squat! My heart rate hits the roof and Carolyn calmly says something like; “Colonel Carter, it’s way too cold to have your baby in the corridor!”
The look on Sam’s face is nothing short of desperate. I don’t know how we managed it, but Steve and I grab her arms and get her into the infirmary and over to a bed... Carolyn is barking orders (she’s scary when she’s in charge) and there’s people running everywhere.
And then I hear her.
Sam has bent herself over the hospital bed, one hand is on her stomach and the other grabs the sheets and begins to pull... she must have been in so much pain... she’s whimpering. What an awful sound - I’d preferred her screaming and cursing.
She was saying your name, Jack. Begging you to help her. Asking you to save the baby.
I remembered the video recorder and I tried to video, but my hands are shaking - I had to turn away, I was almost overcome with what you would call sloppy stuff. Then Becky Rush is all business (did you know she was a qualified midwife as well as an RN?) and is asking Sam about pain relief, she can’t get an answer - I think Sam was having a contraction? Becky manages to ease her maternity pants down and does a quick internal exam, and coolly announces that Colonel Carter is fully dilated and pushing and if I’m staying, will I please not get in the way?
Steve is shoring up Sam from the side, Becky is giving gas and air, and Carolyn is at the business end, calling for - dear Lord - a flashlight. It became clear to me that Sam is going to have your baby, YOUR baby - standing up. I’ve delivered three babies now, and all the moms have been so considerate as to lie down... standing up is something else. I’m filming all this very badly and then remember to call encouragement to Sam, who is drenched in sweat by this time.
I don’t think I’d ever heard her use the F-word before, until then. It was something about putting the f*ck*ng camera down and helping... so I did.
She wants her top off, it’s stuck to her with sweat at that point, and whatever madam wants, madam gets, so I do the honors before she leans back over the bed, now with only her brassiere on. Her hair, longer now than you will remember it, is plastered to her head, there are two very bright red spots on her cheeks, but the rest of her is so pale... she’s clutching the same sheet with that same hand. I wish I could help her, I wish I could make it all go away and yet I’m desperate to see my niece or nephew. I stand on the other side, smooth her hair and rub her neck, Carolyn is angling the flashlight up towards Sam’s tusch, and Becky is readying forceps in a towel.
The reality of Samantha Carter - the girl I’ve virtually grown up with - one of the original SG1 - soldier, scientist, superwoman - about to bring a child into the world, about to become a mother - I was so afraid for her at that moment.
I can *feel* the power with which the contractions are gripping her; tight ripples across her skin, radiating over her body to where I’m holding her hand. She’s sweating and gasping and pushing and I swear, I’m sweating and gasping and pushing along with her.
Then I hear her again.
Asking you to save the baby. YOU.
It breaks my heart, Jack.
Carolyn hears her and she’s saying that’s not necessary, that the baby will be here any minute because she can see lots of ginger hair (GINGER!) and can Colonel Carter please concentrate to get her breathing under control? Perhaps it was fortuitous that Dr Lam was not within a good punching angle.
I think Sam is using every one of her muscles in an effort to get the baby out. All I can see is her eyes, looking up at me, full of pain and fear.
I’m really scared at that point.
Sam takes a sharp breath in… my hand is crushed beyond all feeling... her eyes squeeze tight shut
~ohmythebabyiscoming~
There’s a flurry of activity at the end that I can’t see - then a noise like a small pop and the sound of liquid hitting the infirmary floor, two more pushes and Becky and Carolyn are all arms and towels and whoa!
Becky’s got this bundle in her arms - I can see a bit of skin and blood wrapped in a blanket and Carolyn’s saying something about suction and now I’m actually terrified. There’s no noise coming from the child!
The crushing sensation round my hand lessens and I realize that Steve is lowering Sam onto an infirmary chair swathed in yet more towels. Why isn’t the baby making a noise?!
Becky is rubbing the baby’s face and Carolyn is doing something with a small plastic tube.
“Please.” A plea. From Sam. So tired. Her arms are outstretched towards the pathetic muddle of cloth and child but everyone looks so serious.
I can’t bear this. I couldn’t endure losing one more child in my life.
The bundle is put into Sam’s arms...
.. but then I hear the sweetest music.
Not Angels.
Not Baroque.
The sound of a tiny baby screaming its head off and Sam sobbing with happiness.
If I never live another day, I will die (again) with the knowledge that I was present at the most personal and sacred of human events. It happens everyday, every minute, all over the planet, where a new life joins the human race with all its hopes, failings, frailties and ingenuity.
I am overwhelmed.
Steve is sniffing, Becky is grinning like an idiot while she expertly clamps the umbilical cord and even Carolyn’s eyes are suspiciously bright. “Would you like to cut the cord?” she announces.
Me?
I look to Sam for confirmation. Her face is pink, her eyes scream exhaustion, but she’s laughing and nodding, so I take the medical scissors and I do just that.
*snip*
You’re on your own now, kiddo.
Wait! What am I like?!
“Sam!”
Everyone looks me.
“What is it?!” I don’t know yet!
Sam is smiling that blinding grin of hers and pulls away a little more of the towel.
Oh boy. “He takes after Jack, alright!” I announce loudly.
The laughter and the tears that follow are sweet.
You have a son. He’s perfect. And sleeping.
Congratulations.
***
A few hours later, there’s quite a crowd gathering outside the infirmary. Carolyn Lam is trying to ignore it, but she has her own way of running her sickbay and contending with Sam-fangirls and boys is not something she is entirely happy about, especially since an SGC birth was *un*expected.
There is a solution. I’ve been filming Sam trying to give your son his first breastfeed but it didn’t go as well as she’d hoped. Becky is reassuring: it’s all about finding the best position and they’ll both learn from each other. Although Sam has managed a quick shower while the baby was asleep, she is looking totally worn out now and it’s obvious from the dark circles that she isn’t going to last much longer and visitors are a no-no.
I take matters into my own hands.
“Sam, why don’t I take him and show him off a bit? That’ll make everyone happy.” I turn off the video camera and start packing it away so she takes the hint.
The new mother is gazing into her son’s eyes. “No, I want him here with me; they can come in one by one now I look more like a human being.”
Carolyn is hovering and we exchange glances. Mom needs to rest. “They can come back *tomorrow*. All they want at the moment is a quick peek and that will be enough.”
Junior seems to have dozed off, one strong fist balled in his mouth. Sam is fingering a pale blue crocheted blanket that Wendy Mitchell sent which is wrapped around her baby’s tiny body and strokes his hand that sports surprising long fingernails. “Oh, alright, but not long; just a few minutes.”
Ha! “Okay.” I hitch round to Sam’s side and lift the mass of baby and blanket into my arms. I love that feeling of holding a baby and he’s so pretty - I felt quite broody myself!
Sam falters. “And only you are to hold him. Pass the parcel will have to wait for another day.”
I nod. “Gotcha.”
“Two minutes and he’s back with me.” Okay. I do what mom says, little one, she’s the boss.
I’m half-way through the privacy curtain when a thought strikes me. “Sam?”
“Mmm?” The kid won’t be the only one asleep soon.
“Can I tell them his name?” I hold him tighter.
She yawns, lashes dark against her pale skin. “Sure.”
I carry the precious, cherished life out to his well wishers. Sure enough, the ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ are an indicator of one who will win many hearts in the future.
I hitch him up slightly so our friends can get a better view. His eyes squint open a little; so he wasn't asleep. “Faker,” I whisper over his head. So many friends. Hank, George, Cameron, Cassie, even Siler and Harriman and many others standing respectfully at the back. Some people are missing though, so there is sadness here too.
I stand holding your son and regard these lives that you and Sam have enriched and saved and brought happiness to, and muse over the journey that has brought us all to this point.
So much love.
And in the end, that’s what it’s all about, because in the end, that’s the only thing that carries the hope down through the years.
I clear my throat and I swear your son glares at me. I know I’ve seen *that* look before. I think I was pretending to be the Wizard of Oz at the time…
I pull the delicate blanket a little further away from the baby’s face, mindful of any chill on the newborn’s skin.
“Hello friends. Meet Jonathan Jacob Carter O’Neill, son of Jack and Sam.”
Love.
It’s the thing that carries the hope.
***
The End
