It's OWWWWWWWWW! all your fault Sheppard!
Title: It’s… OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW all your fault Sheppard !
Author: Fenchurch
Series: ‘It’s…’ pregnancy drabbles
Notes: Unbeta’d. Dedicated to my Goddess47 who is a true friend and also to my little girl, Norah, born just before Christmas.
***
“OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!”
“It’s ok Rodney, just breathe… breathe! Don’t push, just breathe…”
“It hurts!” Rodney wailed, doubling over as another wave of pain went through him. “IT HURTS!” He repeated, just in case anyone hadn’t got the message.
“Take the gas’n’air Rodney,” Dr MJ Heider encouraged quietly, “Remember to breathe it in deeply and then breathe out into the mouthpiece…”
“It HURTS!” Rodney shouted, red in the face and ready to throw things.
“Of course it does!” John grinned. “You’re having a baby!”
“I wasn’t designed for this! Get it out of me! Please, John, get it out of me!” Rodney begged and John’s heart almost broke at the plea.
“Isn’t there anything else you can give him?” He asked desperately, gripping McKay’s hand. “He’s been at this for hours!”
“It’s the irregular contractions, John,” MJ explained again, “His body may have a womb, but it wasn’t meant for labor. I can’t tell which stage he’s reached.”
“Canna we intervene?” Carson asked again for what John reckoned was the fifteenth time.
“If I intervene now, then there’s the risk of infection. We don’t know if the waters broke or…”
“Oh my God! What was that?”
They all reacted to Rodney’s startled shout (followed up by more ‘owww’s and frantic breathing into and out of the tube), by surrounding him and asking questions. Rodney grabbed John’s lapel and told him,
“Something popped inside me! Something popped… like a big… pop!”
“Like this?” MJ asked, popping her mouth with her finger.
“Yes! Pop!”
“That’s the waters breaking… at last!” She crowed. “Now… we time the contractions and then…”
“OWWWWW!”
“Time it, John!”
John had timed every contraction, every interval, every movement… everything. He felt so helpless and his lover was in such pain.
Half an hour later it was still obvious that the contractions were refusing to behave, so MJ made the decision to investigate.
Rodney took time out of his shouting and swearing about the constant pain (“it’s only suppose to hurt when there is a contraction! What are you doing to me?”), to complain loudly about the prodding and poking going on.
“Where the hell are you putting those fingers? You can’t just stick them…. Did you scrub your hands? I could get infected! OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! SHEPPARD!”
Dr Heider ignored him and felt around inside, then she gasped.
“He’s seven centimetres dilated!”
“Is… is that good?” John asked, gripping Rodney through the next round of ‘ow’s. “Is it coming?”
“I don’t believe it! He’s… keep him breathing… no pushing…”
John watched as MJ and Carson went to consult with a midwife whose name escaped him. She had been hovering around, not daring to offer suggestions to her bosses, but she had been whispering to John, telling him how to help his lover through this trial. Now, finally, she seemed to be allowed to give her opinion.
All three agreed and faced John, who was watching Rodney overdosing on Gas’n’air. He had asked for pethedine, for an epidural, for anything to help, but so far they had only given him the magic tube and some acetaminophen. It didn’t seem like much to him and Rodney was in such pain…
“Please, Carson, there has to be some kind of Ancient doohickey!” John pleaded as Rodney loudly rode another contraction. “Can’t we beam it out… you know, like we did with the Gouald in Colonel Cauldwell?”
“No John!” Carson tried to be patient, but Rodney’s pain was making him more tetchy than usual and his voice sounded snappy. “I’m sorry,” he apologised on seeing the pain and love on John’s face. “It won’t be…”
“It’s crowning!” Dr Heider cried as Rodney gave another moan. “Start pushing when there are contractions!”
After that everything was a blur. John remembered Rodney’s cries of anguish, his claims that he COULDN’T DO IT ANYMORE and his utter exhaustion, but suddenly Rodney had given a huge push and there she was… their daughter… all pink and squirmy, covered in blood and goop, but beautiful.
It was trebly amazing, John thought as he contemplated the scene. In one instant Rodney had totally forgotten that he was in pain, had been working so hard for nearly twenty hours, that the birth had brought on hypoglycaemia, hysterics and howling. Now he sat on the bed, adorably rumpled and sweaty, cradling a little bundle of wriggly baby with such joy and love.
Suddenly Rodney looked up and bestowed the same look of love and adoration on John, who zoomed to Rodney, pulling him in for a hug while perching on the infirmary bed. They shared a look and John nodded, turning to the nameless midwife, MJ and Carson, grinning.
“Meet our daughter, Elizabeth McKay-Sheppard.”
Author: Fenchurch
Series: ‘It’s…’ pregnancy drabbles
Notes: Unbeta’d. Dedicated to my Goddess47 who is a true friend and also to my little girl, Norah, born just before Christmas.
***
“OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!”
“It’s ok Rodney, just breathe… breathe! Don’t push, just breathe…”
“It hurts!” Rodney wailed, doubling over as another wave of pain went through him. “IT HURTS!” He repeated, just in case anyone hadn’t got the message.
“Take the gas’n’air Rodney,” Dr MJ Heider encouraged quietly, “Remember to breathe it in deeply and then breathe out into the mouthpiece…”
“It HURTS!” Rodney shouted, red in the face and ready to throw things.
“Of course it does!” John grinned. “You’re having a baby!”
“I wasn’t designed for this! Get it out of me! Please, John, get it out of me!” Rodney begged and John’s heart almost broke at the plea.
“Isn’t there anything else you can give him?” He asked desperately, gripping McKay’s hand. “He’s been at this for hours!”
“It’s the irregular contractions, John,” MJ explained again, “His body may have a womb, but it wasn’t meant for labor. I can’t tell which stage he’s reached.”
“Canna we intervene?” Carson asked again for what John reckoned was the fifteenth time.
“If I intervene now, then there’s the risk of infection. We don’t know if the waters broke or…”
“Oh my God! What was that?”
They all reacted to Rodney’s startled shout (followed up by more ‘owww’s and frantic breathing into and out of the tube), by surrounding him and asking questions. Rodney grabbed John’s lapel and told him,
“Something popped inside me! Something popped… like a big… pop!”
“Like this?” MJ asked, popping her mouth with her finger.
“Yes! Pop!”
“That’s the waters breaking… at last!” She crowed. “Now… we time the contractions and then…”
“OWWWWW!”
“Time it, John!”
John had timed every contraction, every interval, every movement… everything. He felt so helpless and his lover was in such pain.
Half an hour later it was still obvious that the contractions were refusing to behave, so MJ made the decision to investigate.
Rodney took time out of his shouting and swearing about the constant pain (“it’s only suppose to hurt when there is a contraction! What are you doing to me?”), to complain loudly about the prodding and poking going on.
“Where the hell are you putting those fingers? You can’t just stick them…. Did you scrub your hands? I could get infected! OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! SHEPPARD!”
Dr Heider ignored him and felt around inside, then she gasped.
“He’s seven centimetres dilated!”
“Is… is that good?” John asked, gripping Rodney through the next round of ‘ow’s. “Is it coming?”
“I don’t believe it! He’s… keep him breathing… no pushing…”
John watched as MJ and Carson went to consult with a midwife whose name escaped him. She had been hovering around, not daring to offer suggestions to her bosses, but she had been whispering to John, telling him how to help his lover through this trial. Now, finally, she seemed to be allowed to give her opinion.
All three agreed and faced John, who was watching Rodney overdosing on Gas’n’air. He had asked for pethedine, for an epidural, for anything to help, but so far they had only given him the magic tube and some acetaminophen. It didn’t seem like much to him and Rodney was in such pain…
“Please, Carson, there has to be some kind of Ancient doohickey!” John pleaded as Rodney loudly rode another contraction. “Can’t we beam it out… you know, like we did with the Gouald in Colonel Cauldwell?”
“No John!” Carson tried to be patient, but Rodney’s pain was making him more tetchy than usual and his voice sounded snappy. “I’m sorry,” he apologised on seeing the pain and love on John’s face. “It won’t be…”
“It’s crowning!” Dr Heider cried as Rodney gave another moan. “Start pushing when there are contractions!”
After that everything was a blur. John remembered Rodney’s cries of anguish, his claims that he COULDN’T DO IT ANYMORE and his utter exhaustion, but suddenly Rodney had given a huge push and there she was… their daughter… all pink and squirmy, covered in blood and goop, but beautiful.
It was trebly amazing, John thought as he contemplated the scene. In one instant Rodney had totally forgotten that he was in pain, had been working so hard for nearly twenty hours, that the birth had brought on hypoglycaemia, hysterics and howling. Now he sat on the bed, adorably rumpled and sweaty, cradling a little bundle of wriggly baby with such joy and love.
Suddenly Rodney looked up and bestowed the same look of love and adoration on John, who zoomed to Rodney, pulling him in for a hug while perching on the infirmary bed. They shared a look and John nodded, turning to the nameless midwife, MJ and Carson, grinning.
“Meet our daughter, Elizabeth McKay-Sheppard.”