Babies are a bit of stardust
Lisa was approximately seventeen months pregnant. And as such, she felt about the size of a beluga whale. It was ridiculous. She supposed she should have been grateful; nearly all of the weight she’d gained had been at her stomach, but she was also the type who’d never gained more than two or three pounds at any given time. Sleeping was uncomfortable, her back ached something fierce, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her feet.
All morning, though, she’d been experiencing slight, sharp pains in her lower abdomen. She was trying not to overthink it -- as pregnant as she was, she still had about two weeks left until Noah’s due date. Still, it was better safe than sorry. There was still a decent amount of time between each -- which meant there was still enough time to fetch Ernie.
Her hospital bag slung over her shoulder, Lisa slowly waddled through the Ministry, waving away the offer of a wheelchair. She was pregnant, not disabled; a retort that often came to her lips whenever Ernie tried to get her stop doing whatever she was doing and sit down. Luckily, it wasn’t a long trip from the Atrium to the Obliviators’ offices.
Her husband’s door was closed, but Wendi was sitting at her desk, scribbling away. Lisa smiled when the blonde glanced up. “Hi Wendi. I know he’s probably got an appointment in there, but can you interrupt him?”
The blonde grinned and pointed at the door with her quill. “Nope, he’s free. He just got back from lunch.”
“Oh, great. Thank you so much.” Waddling past the other woman’s desk, Lisa didn’t even bother to knock as she opened the door. “Sweetheart?”
Ernie was hunched over a pile of paperwork, scrawling notes in the margins of his files. He hadn’t gone through any of them in weeks and Wendi had finally put her foot down. She’d cancelled his appointments for the day and told him in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t get it finished, he didn’t get to leave. “Hi, honey.”
Her lips curled at the mound of paperwork on Ernie’s desk. He was terrible with a capital T about finishing it, but she couldn’t blame him. She’d never had to do paperwork in her lines of work, but the idea of it sounded awful.
She pushed a little further into the room, one hand on her swollen stomach. “Are you terribly busy right now?”
“Not at the moment, just paperwork. Have you had a good day?” he asked, glancing up at her with a smile.
“Um...” she was cut off from finishing the sentence by another wave of pressure his her lower back and stomach, this time much more intense than her previous one. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her left hand reached out to grasp the doorframe. Yeah, it was definitely time.
“Ernie, it’s time,” she breathed, inhaling sharply.
“Time? Time for what?” He stared at her for a moment before it clicked. “Oh. Oh!” He jumped to his feet, sending his chair skittering across the floor to the wall, where it impacted with a crash. “We have to go!”
If she were feeling more like it, she’d have laughed at the expression on his face. But at the moment, all she could think about was the pressure at the base of her spine and the way her body was aching.
“Yes, we do. Going would be good. I brought the bag, so we can go straight to St. Mungo’s.” She released her grip on the door to reach her hand out to Ernie. “Can Wendi owl our parents?”
He grabbed her hand and put his hand on her shoulder to ease her, very gently, through the door. “Of course she can. Do you need a wheelchair? Maybe we should get a wheelchair. Wendi, call for a wheelchair.”
Wendi, who - like any good secretary - had been eavesdropping for all she was worth, was already scribbling notes and rolling them up. At Ernie’s words, her gaze went to Lisa for confirmation rather than him.
Lisa met the other blonde’s eyes and minutely shook her head. She didn’t want a bloody wheelchair; she just wanted to get to the hospital and have her baby. “I don’t need a wheelchair, but thank you.” At Ernie’s sound of protest, she smiled up at him. “We’re just walking a little bit to the fireplace, and then we’ll be at the hospital. It’ll be fine, love.”
He nodded, somewhat distracted and not happy about the refusal of the wheelchair, and hustled her down the hallway and up through the Atrium to the floo fireplaces. He tossed a handful of powder into the fire. “I’ll see you there,” he told her, kissing her gently before he pushed Lisa through in front of him.
“St. Mungo’s!” Lisa had to swallow hard to keep from retching as she spun through the Floo, passing hundreds of other fireplaces quicker than she could notice before spitting her out in the vestibule at the hospital. Her legs were trembling, and there was something wet and sticky that hadn’t been there before.
Great. Her water had broken mid-Floo. Hurry up, Ernie!
By the time Ernie got through, only seconds later, Lisa was being hurried down the hall by medical personnel. He moved to follow, but was stopped by an administrator to fill out paperwork. By the time he was led to her room, he was ready to pull his own hair out.
Now dressed in a hospital gown and situated in a birthing room, Lisa was also ready to pull her hair out. The contractions were growing more frequent -- and more intense -- by the minute, and sweat was already starting to bead at her hairline.
"Where have you been?" she cried, causing the mediwitch to start in alarm. "You were right behind me!"
“They grabbed me for paperwork,” he replied, moving over to take her hand. She looked like she was moving along just fine. No one in the room aside from the two of them looked panicked, he noted.
“Bloody paperwork,” she said, tension in her voice rising as another contraction hit her. She squeezed Ernie’s hand, grasping onto him for dear life; bloody hell, this hurt. “I just want to have this baby right now!”
Ernie didn’t blame her in the least, especially since the bones in his hand were being ground to powder.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
She could barely move. Five hours of labor, and Lisa was exhausted. Her body ached all over, but it had been worth it. Her son -- her precious baby Noah -- was here, wrapped in a blue blanket and laying in her arms. Ten fingers, ten toes, one adorable nose, and two eyes that, for the brief moment he’d opened them, were a beautiful hue of blue.
He was, in a word, perfect.
“Welcome to the world, my little boy,” she whispered, brushing a kiss on his soft head. “What do you think?”
“He’s perfect,” Ernie breathed, tracing a finger over the top of his son’s - his son’s downy head.
Lisa glanced up at her husband, a loving smile curling at her lips. “He looks like you,” she said happily. It was what she’d been hoping for; a little boy with his Da’s dark hair and blue eyes.
The thought of that had him grinning like an escapee from the Janus Thickey Ward. “He does, doesn’t he?” he asked, full to bursting with pride.
“Our little Noah.” Her heart, already full of love and happiness, swelled at the look on Ernie’s face. “Not twenty minutes old and already a charmer.”
“Can I hold him?” Ernie asked, glancing over at her. He desperately wanted to hold his brand new baby.
Something irrational inside Lisa said "No!" She’d just gotten her baby boy; she didn’t want to let him go. But she smiled and nodded at the side of the bed. “Sit,” she said, waiting until he’d perched himself beside her before she transferred their tiny, tiny child to his waiting arms, making sure her husband supported his head the way the Healer had shown them how.
Ernie was the oldest of eight children; he knew how to hold a baby. He was practically an expert at it by now. This was different, though. This was his son. He was holding Noah with one arm, the other hand was running over him, brushing over his head - dark with downy hair - tracing his tiny fingers, watching those fingers curl around his own. “He’s got a grip on him,” he murmured, staring.
“He’s going to be a strong boy. Tall, too, I’d bet ten galleons on that.” Both she and Ernie were tall and, aside from her sister Emily, had tall family members. It was likely that Noah would grow to be a tall boy. But it was hard to imagine him tall, when he was so tiny.
Reaching out, she traced her finger over Noah’s tiny nose, down over his blanket-swaddled body until her hand could rest over Ernie’s own. “He’s just so beautiful.”
“My son is not beautiful,” Ernie replied, frowning. “He’s strong. Strong and manly.”
“Ernie, he’s a baby. He’ll grow into that.” Lisa smiled and leaned over to brush her nose over her husband’s. “But right now, he’s a beautiful baby boy. Our beautiful baby boy.”
Ernie took the opportunity to nuzzle, brushing a soft, sweet kiss over his wife’s lips. He had his doubts about his son being beautiful - because he wasn’t. He was not going to be beautiful, he was going to be rough and tough and all the other things boys were supposed to be - but he wasn’t going to argue the point. Not when he had something so absolutely perfect in his arms.
“I love you,” she whispered against his lips. “Thank you.”
“I love you, too.”
Summary: Ernie and Lisa welcome Noah into the world.
All morning, though, she’d been experiencing slight, sharp pains in her lower abdomen. She was trying not to overthink it -- as pregnant as she was, she still had about two weeks left until Noah’s due date. Still, it was better safe than sorry. There was still a decent amount of time between each -- which meant there was still enough time to fetch Ernie.
Her hospital bag slung over her shoulder, Lisa slowly waddled through the Ministry, waving away the offer of a wheelchair. She was pregnant, not disabled; a retort that often came to her lips whenever Ernie tried to get her stop doing whatever she was doing and sit down. Luckily, it wasn’t a long trip from the Atrium to the Obliviators’ offices.
Her husband’s door was closed, but Wendi was sitting at her desk, scribbling away. Lisa smiled when the blonde glanced up. “Hi Wendi. I know he’s probably got an appointment in there, but can you interrupt him?”
The blonde grinned and pointed at the door with her quill. “Nope, he’s free. He just got back from lunch.”
“Oh, great. Thank you so much.” Waddling past the other woman’s desk, Lisa didn’t even bother to knock as she opened the door. “Sweetheart?”
Ernie was hunched over a pile of paperwork, scrawling notes in the margins of his files. He hadn’t gone through any of them in weeks and Wendi had finally put her foot down. She’d cancelled his appointments for the day and told him in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t get it finished, he didn’t get to leave. “Hi, honey.”
Her lips curled at the mound of paperwork on Ernie’s desk. He was terrible with a capital T about finishing it, but she couldn’t blame him. She’d never had to do paperwork in her lines of work, but the idea of it sounded awful.
She pushed a little further into the room, one hand on her swollen stomach. “Are you terribly busy right now?”
“Not at the moment, just paperwork. Have you had a good day?” he asked, glancing up at her with a smile.
“Um...” she was cut off from finishing the sentence by another wave of pressure his her lower back and stomach, this time much more intense than her previous one. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her left hand reached out to grasp the doorframe. Yeah, it was definitely time.
“Ernie, it’s time,” she breathed, inhaling sharply.
“Time? Time for what?” He stared at her for a moment before it clicked. “Oh. Oh!” He jumped to his feet, sending his chair skittering across the floor to the wall, where it impacted with a crash. “We have to go!”
If she were feeling more like it, she’d have laughed at the expression on his face. But at the moment, all she could think about was the pressure at the base of her spine and the way her body was aching.
“Yes, we do. Going would be good. I brought the bag, so we can go straight to St. Mungo’s.” She released her grip on the door to reach her hand out to Ernie. “Can Wendi owl our parents?”
He grabbed her hand and put his hand on her shoulder to ease her, very gently, through the door. “Of course she can. Do you need a wheelchair? Maybe we should get a wheelchair. Wendi, call for a wheelchair.”
Wendi, who - like any good secretary - had been eavesdropping for all she was worth, was already scribbling notes and rolling them up. At Ernie’s words, her gaze went to Lisa for confirmation rather than him.
Lisa met the other blonde’s eyes and minutely shook her head. She didn’t want a bloody wheelchair; she just wanted to get to the hospital and have her baby. “I don’t need a wheelchair, but thank you.” At Ernie’s sound of protest, she smiled up at him. “We’re just walking a little bit to the fireplace, and then we’ll be at the hospital. It’ll be fine, love.”
He nodded, somewhat distracted and not happy about the refusal of the wheelchair, and hustled her down the hallway and up through the Atrium to the floo fireplaces. He tossed a handful of powder into the fire. “I’ll see you there,” he told her, kissing her gently before he pushed Lisa through in front of him.
“St. Mungo’s!” Lisa had to swallow hard to keep from retching as she spun through the Floo, passing hundreds of other fireplaces quicker than she could notice before spitting her out in the vestibule at the hospital. Her legs were trembling, and there was something wet and sticky that hadn’t been there before.
Great. Her water had broken mid-Floo. Hurry up, Ernie!
By the time Ernie got through, only seconds later, Lisa was being hurried down the hall by medical personnel. He moved to follow, but was stopped by an administrator to fill out paperwork. By the time he was led to her room, he was ready to pull his own hair out.
Now dressed in a hospital gown and situated in a birthing room, Lisa was also ready to pull her hair out. The contractions were growing more frequent -- and more intense -- by the minute, and sweat was already starting to bead at her hairline.
"Where have you been?" she cried, causing the mediwitch to start in alarm. "You were right behind me!"
“They grabbed me for paperwork,” he replied, moving over to take her hand. She looked like she was moving along just fine. No one in the room aside from the two of them looked panicked, he noted.
“Bloody paperwork,” she said, tension in her voice rising as another contraction hit her. She squeezed Ernie’s hand, grasping onto him for dear life; bloody hell, this hurt. “I just want to have this baby right now!”
Ernie didn’t blame her in the least, especially since the bones in his hand were being ground to powder.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
She could barely move. Five hours of labor, and Lisa was exhausted. Her body ached all over, but it had been worth it. Her son -- her precious baby Noah -- was here, wrapped in a blue blanket and laying in her arms. Ten fingers, ten toes, one adorable nose, and two eyes that, for the brief moment he’d opened them, were a beautiful hue of blue.
He was, in a word, perfect.
“Welcome to the world, my little boy,” she whispered, brushing a kiss on his soft head. “What do you think?”
“He’s perfect,” Ernie breathed, tracing a finger over the top of his son’s - his son’s downy head.
Lisa glanced up at her husband, a loving smile curling at her lips. “He looks like you,” she said happily. It was what she’d been hoping for; a little boy with his Da’s dark hair and blue eyes.
The thought of that had him grinning like an escapee from the Janus Thickey Ward. “He does, doesn’t he?” he asked, full to bursting with pride.
“Our little Noah.” Her heart, already full of love and happiness, swelled at the look on Ernie’s face. “Not twenty minutes old and already a charmer.”
“Can I hold him?” Ernie asked, glancing over at her. He desperately wanted to hold his brand new baby.
Something irrational inside Lisa said "No!" She’d just gotten her baby boy; she didn’t want to let him go. But she smiled and nodded at the side of the bed. “Sit,” she said, waiting until he’d perched himself beside her before she transferred their tiny, tiny child to his waiting arms, making sure her husband supported his head the way the Healer had shown them how.
Ernie was the oldest of eight children; he knew how to hold a baby. He was practically an expert at it by now. This was different, though. This was his son. He was holding Noah with one arm, the other hand was running over him, brushing over his head - dark with downy hair - tracing his tiny fingers, watching those fingers curl around his own. “He’s got a grip on him,” he murmured, staring.
“He’s going to be a strong boy. Tall, too, I’d bet ten galleons on that.” Both she and Ernie were tall and, aside from her sister Emily, had tall family members. It was likely that Noah would grow to be a tall boy. But it was hard to imagine him tall, when he was so tiny.
Reaching out, she traced her finger over Noah’s tiny nose, down over his blanket-swaddled body until her hand could rest over Ernie’s own. “He’s just so beautiful.”
“My son is not beautiful,” Ernie replied, frowning. “He’s strong. Strong and manly.”
“Ernie, he’s a baby. He’ll grow into that.” Lisa smiled and leaned over to brush her nose over her husband’s. “But right now, he’s a beautiful baby boy. Our beautiful baby boy.”
Ernie took the opportunity to nuzzle, brushing a soft, sweet kiss over his wife’s lips. He had his doubts about his son being beautiful - because he wasn’t. He was not going to be beautiful, he was going to be rough and tough and all the other things boys were supposed to be - but he wasn’t going to argue the point. Not when he had something so absolutely perfect in his arms.
“I love you,” she whispered against his lips. “Thank you.”
“I love you, too.”
Summary: Ernie and Lisa welcome Noah into the world.