Chapter 54: Here Comes the Son Pt. 1

[theladyholl]

Author: TheLadyHoll
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Yes, they are mine. I own them. Come to me my pretties and dance, DANCE I SAY. Or, more truthfully, not...



NOTE: The next two chapters in this work are devoted wholly to the birth and labour, and much like labour, this is LONG, graphic in parts, but worth it (I hope) in the end. However, I leave the choice to you, I simply wanted to make it as real to life as possible save for some thematic elements. XO

As she often did these days, Miranda seemed off and irritable, frustrated with her own lack of mobility and subsequent lack of oversight of the goings on of Runway even though she had technically started her official maternity leave even before the issues with Irv had come to their final resolution.

The endless energy of her girls exhausted her and the palpable anxiety that flowed from Andrea although she tried her best to hide it affected her more than she cared to admit. She had enough anxiety about the coming birth and labour to be able to deal with the younger woman’s as well. She simply hadn’t the energy. Restless despite her constant exhaustion, Miranda found herself in the nursery once again, arranging and re-arranging the bedding and the drawers. A dull ache starting in her lower back as she finished folding a layette brought her over to the wooden rocking chair, lowering herself into it gingerly as she admitted grudgingly to herself that even with that simple task she might have overdone it. God, how she wanted this to be over. And yet she begged her body to hold onto them for as long as possible so that they were delivered healthy. But mercy if this waiting wasn’t complete anathema to Miranda Priestly.

Oh wonderful, just as she had gotten even the slightest bit comfortable, Miranda thought irritably as the nagging pain in her back returned along with a familiar feeling of fullness and pressure that generally preceded an urgent trip to the bathroom as the babies rolled across her bladder.

As she finished her ablutions, Miranda once more sought refuge in her study, thinking that at least if she was going to sit still she could at the very least be somewhat productive in answering any email - which truth be told was all but non-existent under the strict orders of Andrea who had suddenly it seemed, become of a higher authority than the editor-in-chief of Runway.

Suddenly, every ounce of irritability vanished and she raised herself carefully to her feet, seeking out the younger woman from wherever she had holed herself away understandably to escape the ire of the older woman.

“Mmm?” Andy hummed her response to Miranda’s call but didn’t look up from the brightly lit screen of her laptop, so close to getting the right wording for a tricky bit in the article she was working on.

Finally, she looked up to see Miranda framed in the soft light coming through the doorframe, one hand pushing the door open and the other one held in place underneath her belly, bunching the soft black fabric of her tunic as she moved her hand back and forth.

“Miranda, what is it?” Andy slid the computer off her lap and turned to give the older woman her full attention.

“I think,” Miranda looked down at her stomach and moved her second hand to link with the one cradling her abdomen before looking up to meet the younger woman’s gaze. “I think my waters have broken.”

Every hair on Andy’s body stood on end in that moment, and she would be forever grateful Miranda hadn’t been near enough to see or to know how Andrea’s stomach lurched as she felt an overwhelming panic take hold of her body. Instead, Andy took a mental twenty seconds to close her eyes and exhale, knowing she had to be the calm one in the situation and she opened her eyes grounded; both terrified and euphoric she managed to keep her expression, or at least hoped, neutral and calm as she uncrossed her legs and stood.

“Are…”

“Ooh,”

Andy’s question coincided with a wince and a sharp intake of breath from Miranda who kept both hands laced underneath her belly but spread her fingers wider to better distribute the weight as she bent forward, still looking impossibly elegant and more composed than any woman in labour rightfully should.

“Okay, so I think that answers my question about whether you’re feeling any contractions.”

“They, they’ve been on and off all afternoon, and resting or drinking didn’t seem to be helping. And then when I stood from my desk, I felt this pressure and then a ‘pop’ of sorts and the pressure eased somewhat but now I’m, I’m wet,” her face flushed pink “and I can’t tell if, if it’s amniotic fluid…” she trailed off once more, looking more angry than anything else and Andy was quick to swoop in to do damage control.

“Okay, first things first, let’s get you into dry things okay?” Very little further investigation proved necessary however, when halfway down the hall to their bedroom, Miranda stopped dead in her tracks, her breath catching again as she was frustratingly helpless to stop another stream of liquid from trickling onto the floor in tandem with the gnawing pains that now circled from her back to reach around her belly as well.

Reaching into a spare linen closet, Andy threw a towel over the stain so no one would slip and turned her attentions back to Miranda who looked as though she didn’t know whether to yell or cry.

“It’s not time yet,” Miranda looked up at Andy beseechingly as the younger woman returned to her side as she was still bent double. “It’s not time, it can’t be. It’s not…they’re not ready yet.”

“Shhh, yes they are.” Andy’s arm slipped around Miranda’s shoulders and she brought her back slowly to an upright position, gently laying a hand on the tight drum of her stomach and focusing on getting Miranda to centre herself so they could figure out what their next moves were going to be.

“How close have they been coming together before now?” Andy kept her voice low and warm as she replaced Miranda’s hands on her belly, taking over the gentle circular motion of her hands and doing her best to keep the older woman calm.” Andy ran her hands up and down the sides of the bump slowly and Miranda sighed inwardly; she hadn’t realized how in need of support and contact she had been throughout the day, only noticing now, with Andrea’s touch, just how much it served to abate her fears and frayed nerves.

“I, I only began really taking account of them after I’d experienced similar bouts of discomfort after forty minutes or so. That was two, perhaps three hours ago. Then the pressure became worse and I came to find you after I believed my waters might have broken.”

“Well I think it’s a pretty safe bet now,” Andy teased lightly as she continued to rub gently.

“Ohh, that’s better.” Miranda was able to straighten up again and allow Andy to help her step over the towel and towards their bedroom.

Miranda hesitated. “Andrea, if I could ask of you…”

“Anything you need.”

“I, I wanted to have my hair and legs done before the birth, and I know they’re coming sooner than expected but I still want to wash my hair and shave my legs before I go into hospital.” Miranda looked up at Andrea, who laughed, breaking the fragile tension of the room.

“Of course I’ll help you sweetheart, I know you haven’t been able to reach your feet since the end of your 6th month.” Miranda blushed fiercely and looked away.

“What, did you think I thought your legs were smooth by magic? I knew you were getting them done, Miranda. I used to be the one who booked your aesthetician appointments & whoever the newest Emily is called me in a panic to see if you’d want the same person. What made this any different from getting your hair done?

“It was around the time we had fought and you’d left. I didn’t want to admit to needing help when I noticed that bending over in the shower that far was putting uncomfortable pressure on my stomach and I had already felt myself getting lightheaded once or twice from the awkward angle.”

Miranda leaned forward against the side of the shower, her forearms braced against the cool tile as her forehead rested against them. She tried to move one hand to the sharpening, tightening ache at the very base of her belly, but the motion pulled uncomfortably along her lower back and she brought her arm back to rest on the marble tile as before, letting out a sharp exhalation of air between pursed lips.

Gently, Andy led Miranda through her ablutions in the shower, helping her to wash her hair and balance as she shaved her legs before guiding her to sit on a folded towel on the closed toilet seat as she threw on a clean set of clothes and returned with the outfit Miranda had chosen weeks ago to wear to the hospital.

Miranda was still breathing through the pains with relative ease, although once or twice she had to set down the hair dryer and brush and hold onto the countertop until the current contraction ended.

“So beautiful.” Andy pushed back her favourite ubiquitous silver lock and let the back of her hand rest against Miranda’s cheek.

Eyes closed, Miranda turned into Andrea’s palm and pressed her lips to the skin she found there.

“I’ll apologize now, Andrea, if my temperament in labour is less than agreeable. All I ask is,” she grimaced slightly. “That you don’t leave.” ‘Me’ had been on the tip of her tongue but she held back, afraid of appearing too needy.

Instead, Andrea just kissed her sweetly and lay a hand against the side of Miranda’s stomach.

“Now let’s go pop these suckers out!”

“Andrea, really. If you would be good enough to contain that phraseology to within the confines of your own mind”

But it worked, it was enough to distract the older woman from the more difficult emotions she was struggling with.

“That’s fine, Roy. We’re in no big rush I don’t think. And I don’t think she wants anyone she doesn’t know around her right now.”

Andy crossed the room once more and perched on the few inches of couch between Miranda’s feet and Cassidy.

Three pairs of blue eyes looked up at her expectantly. “Roy’s still a fair bit away, did you want me to call a cab to take us to the hospital or do you want to stay at home for a little while seeing as you’re still in the early stages of labour?”

“How long?”

“Forty minutes, an hour at most.”

Miranda nodded thoughtfully. “I believe I’d prefer to stay at home as long as possible, I don’t wish to spend hours and hours lying in a hospital bed, shackled to the monitors and breathing in stale, recirculated air.”

Andy nodded, shooting off a text to Roy before pocketing her phone and settling in closer to Miranda on the couch so that the older woman was lying with her head in the brunette’s lap and her legs stretched out along the sofa with a cushion stuffed under her stomach. She exhaled slowly through her nose as the latest tightenings eased, looking down at the vastness of her stomach and wondering at the fact that so soon her babies would be here, and that in the next twelve hours she was going to have to expel two infants from her body and please God, that those infants would be healthy.

“Was that a contraction, mom?” Caroline placed two small hands gently overtop of Miranda’s belly, her touch featherlight. “I felt your stomach go all hard and bumpy.”

“Are they like the Braxton whatevers?” Cassidy piped up as well.

“Yes Bobbsey, that was a contraction. And Cassidy, they are like the Braxton Hicks contractions except that these ones are actually pushing the babies down and helping my body to stretch to let them out.”

“How do you know when it’s time for them to come out?”

Miranda looked slightly flummoxed at this, and turned to meet Andrea’s gaze who just laughed. “Your body knows when it’s time, Cass. Once the contractions do their job and make a path for the babies, then they’re going to keep working and help push them out. That’s why we need to go to the hospital, so the doctors can help your mom do that and make sure the babies are safe. ”

“That is SO weird,” Cassidy commented, shaking her head as Andy snorted at Miranda’s indignant expression.

“It doesn’t feel weird when it happens, munchkin, it’s completely natural.”

“It still sounds like aliens are taking over your body.”

Right at that moment, a contraction caught Miranda by surprise & she wasn’t able to moderate her reaction as she had been doing thus far with the girls present.

Cassidy’s eyes grew wide and she walked towards her mother on her knees. “I didn’t mean it, mom, I don’t think the babies are aliens.”

Caroline interrupted her from where she sat, still pressed into Miranda’s side and she rested one hand against the middle of her mother’s belly. “I think that was another contraction, Cass.”

“It’s alright, Bobbsey,” Miranda motioned her youngest daughter closer. “I’m alright, darling.”

“But why do you keep making those noises and looking like that?”

“It does hurt a little now, and it will more later, but ultimately it’s a good kind of hurt because I know it means the babies are coming. Just like you and your sister, it was all worth it when they placed you in my arms. Between your father and myself, I don’t think you were put down for a moment the first two days of your life.”

Miranda looked over at Andrea, “that one was worse,” she murmured, running a hand down the centre of her stomach until it settled under the bottom curve. “How far apart are they now?”

“They’re still pretty irregular, anywhere from twelve to twenty minutes apart.”

“Oh,” Miranda replied with some surprise in her voice. “It felt much quicker.” Her eyes met Andrea’s again, her worry evident in the lines around her eyes. “How much longer until Roy gets here?” Her voice began to take on a panicked tone. “Even with traffic, shouldn’t he be here by now? The pains are coming more regularly now and I don’t know how much I’ve dilated and we need to have the babies monitored and…”

“Shh, my love. I just texted him, Roy’s only twenty minutes away. We still have time. It’s going to take longer because the babies haven’t dropped yet, like they would have at full term, they’re still sitting really high.” She ran her own hand over Miranda’s belly as she leaned in to kiss the frown off the woman’s lips. “But you’re doing so well, and you’ve carried them longer than any doctor thought you would” she tried to reassure the anxious woman.

Caroline and Cassidy had now seated themselves on the floor beside the couch and were staring up at Miranda, both small sets of brows furrowed as they saw their imperturbable mother curled on her side, hiding her face in Andy’s thighs as her features tightened with the onslaught of another contraction.

“Mom, you gotta breathe, remember?”

“Yes you can, we’ll do it with you, right Cass?”

Andy watched with tears in her eyes as the girls demonstrated the different breathing techniques they had studied after hearing about them in the Lamaze class.

Andrea felt Miranda stiffen once again, but the girls kept going, encouraging her to breathe like they were in a rhythmic pattern.

“Blow out once and puff out your cheeks and then three shallow breaths before you breathe in through your nose for a count of 8.” Caroline instructed her mother, sounding scarily like her as she gave orders.

“Good, that’s it mom,” Cassidy encouraged her from her spot beside Caroline, reaching over to take her mother’s hand until the contraction was over.

Miranda motioned for Andrea to help her sit up once more and she held out her hands to her daughters, who clambered back up onto the couch and immediately snuggled into Miranda’s sides respectively, still nervous and uncertain about what was happening.

Andy watched as Miranda twisted and turned in her seat, pressing a hand to her back or side as she tried to find some relief for the pulling in her spine caused by the contractions of the muscles surrounding her uterus and irritating the inflamed ligaments. Finally, the contraction ended and the hard ball of muscle and sinew that had bunched up under her shirt smoothed

Andy reached out for Miranda, but the older woman batted her hand away, turning her head away and tightening her jaw even as she held her whole body tightly, fighting against the sensations coursing through her. “Don’t touch me.”

Unsteady as she was feeling on her feet, Miranda insisted on walking into the hospital under her own steam, ignoring Andy’s pleas for a gurney or even a wheelchair as they made their way to Maternity.

Halfway there however, and knowing how slowly the older woman had been moving as of late, Andy could only assume the now hastened pace of Miranda’s actions was spurred by the desire to be safely ensconced in the private birthing suite before the next contraction hit and she would no longer be able to maintain her façade of cool composure.

It happened though, that as they exited the elevator onto the floor housing the maternity wing Miranda was subjected to another contraction and was all but immoveable from her position for its seemingly endless duration, the 45 seconds or so an eternity to be trapped as such out in the open.

Her posture still practically perfect, Miranda stopped dead in her tracks, an elegant, manicured hand pressed flat against the wall as her only means of support. Shielding the older woman mostly from view, Andy watched Miranda slowly exhale a thin stream of air between tightly clenched teeth as she waited for the pain to fade once more. The hand not bracing itself against the wall pressed itself under the firm curve of Miranda’s stomach and against the rippling muscles that clenched and spasmed there.

Immobilized by the pain, but acutely aware of her surroundings, Miranda’s eyes squeezed shut as she tried to even her breaths and ward off the nauseating panic that set off answering pangs in her stomach.

“It’s alright, we’re almost there,” Andy spoke softly, gently guiding Miranda to move forwards again once she saw the release in tension in the editor’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry. Andrea, I…”

“Shhh, don’t be sorry. Come on, let’s just get you into your room, okay?”

Miranda just nodded, allowing herself now, the comfort of the younger woman’s body as they made the rest of their way down the hall to the admittance desk, Andrea’s arm warm and sure around her waist.

No sooner had they gotten to the room than two men walked into the room, without knocking first both women noticed, and an eyebrow was being drawn higher as they began to speak.

“Bore someone else with your prattling, Dr. Jansen has been my primary caregiver for the duration of this pregnancy and is the only one with the knowledge of what complications are to be expected for this delivery. As such, she is the only one I expect to be the ‘attending’ doctor,” Miranda all but growled at the man as the nurse and orderly behind him looked as though they would very much like to be anywhere else.

“Erm, yes, well as I understand she has been paged, so if that is your wish Ms. Priestly, I shall leave you to her care. It was an, erm, pleasure to meet you.”

It was both women’s turn to roll their eyes as the revered surgeon beat a hasty retreat although Andrea’s stomach turned uneasily with each minute Dr. Jansen still didn’t appear through the door.

Insisting she wanted to change alone, Andrea took the opportunity to do a lap of the maternity ward, the knot in her own stomach feeling like a contraction as she failed to find the female doctor. Actually it seemed, any doctor. But the accident that had slowed their progress to the hospital had been rerouted here, she’d heard when they first came in from the nurse at the admitting desk who had been on the phone, ending the call abruptly as she saw exactly who was standing in front of her.

Andy re-entered the room quietly, trying Dr. Jansen on her cell phone again but shutting it off quickly as Miranda emerged from the bathroom in one of the several outfits she had selected to wear during the labour and during her hospital stay.

Miranda was breathing hard again, and her breathing grew harsher and harsher and Andy quickly hopped up on the bed, straddling Miranda’s legs and squeezing both her hands as Miranda’s body curled into the contraction. Andy could practically see the muscles of Miranda’s abdomen knot as she panted and slowly relaxed back against the cushions, looking at Andrea with such innocent question in her eyes. “Where is Dr. Jansen?” she asked hoarsely, her hands now released from Andrea’s and idly rubbing the sides of her stomach as she spoke.

“I’m sure she’ll be here any moment. Any other time we’ve called her, she’s gotten here at lightning speed. So even if she is off-duty, I’m sure she’ll be coming through the door any minute.

“I certainly hope so,” Miranda said, beginning to pant again, holding the front of her stomach with one arm and supporting herself on the bed with the other.

Another contraction passed and then another. “I know honey, I know,” Andy soothed as Miranda turned her head and cried into her arm. “You’re doing so well. You are so strong. Shh, it’s all going to be over soon.”

Her body felt wrecked and weak and it was all she could do to stay in the brunette’s arms when the pains hit and keep breathing until they were over.

“I can’t,” Miranda kept her head pressed into the young woman’s arm, “I can’t. Make it stop, PLEASE make it stop,” she sobbed.

Andy didn’t reply but rocked back and forth, a tear or two of her own falling to meet with Miranda’s.

The anticipation of meeting her son and daughter made her feel as though her bones would vibrate out of her skin, but seeing Miranda in such pain, so fast, sweating and moaning in her arms tugged her back down to earth and put her focus solely on the woman she whispered soothing words to and helped to breathe through the contractions and whose flushed cheeks and forehead she cooled over and over again with a damp cloth and basin of cold water that they had been left with in the beginning before Miranda’s decree for exodus.

After a while, Miranda began to move and squirm restlessly, digging her heels into the mattress to turn one way and the other, ultimately getting more frustrated as she tried each new position.

“Miranda, what is it?”

Breathless now from the exertion of moving her unwieldy body into different configurations, Miranda grimaced and leaned back on one arm, using the other to press against the bottom of her belly. “I can’t…get comfortable,” she huffed, shifting again but still having no luck.

“There’s pressure, it’s too much.”

“Okay, okay,” Andy climbed off the bed with an ease Miranda could only envy at and begrudge her slightly for, pressing the call button for the nurses’ station as she did so.

“What do you want to try? Another shower? Walking? The exercise ball?” Andy had added the last option almost as a joke, knowing Miranda’s aversion to the ‘birthing tool’ they had been introduced to in their prenatal class.”

“I think I want to try the ball,” Miranda replied in a pained voice, so that any laughter or smart comment died in Andy’s throat as she watched the older woman struggle with the pain and know how much she must be hurting.

She lined the bulbous rubber sphere up against the bed so that it didn’t roll away, and Miranda had something to lean on as she lowered herself onto it.

“How does that feel?”

“Better.” Miranda replied before hunching over as another contraction tightened the muscles in her core and hardened her belly.

Seeing that Miranda was still fighting the pain, Andy took a chance and began rolling the ball in small circles beneath Miranda.

The movement of the ball underneath her increased the pressure uncomfortably for a moment until the circular motion began to flex and rotate her hips and the back and forth pressure became therapeutic, loosening the tight muscles until they were loose and pliant.

Head resting on her forearms, Miranda had managed to fall asleep with the ball taking away some of the pressure and keeping the weight off her legs. Andy was careful not to

“Oh my God,” Andy’s voice brought Miranda out of the meditative state she had sunk into with the rhythm of the ball.

“What?”

Andy took one of her hands off the ball and then the other, much to Miranda’s irritation, although she found that she had un-tensed enough to continue the pattern on her own, moving the ball in circles with the rocking movements of her hips.

“Look how much lower they’re sitting.” Andy’s hands moved to the part of Miranda in question as she wondered over what she was seeing.

Focusing inwardly, Miranda took stock of her own body and found that the younger woman was right. Her center of gravity did feel lower, and she could take deeper breaths now than she could before with the babies pressing upwards against her organs.

It was even more vital now that Miranda keep the rocking motion of her hips, as the babies’ shift downward meant the pressure she was feeling increased tenfold. “Ah, ah, ah,” her voice rose as she pressed herself harder against the ball and against the pressure, deepening her squat and clutching tightly to the edge of the mattress.

“Ohh,” Miranda moaned, resting her head on her forearms that were bracing her on the mattress. “I think I want to push.” She rocked again against the ball, the answering pressure from within her own body confirming the primal desire that had begun to descend upon her like a fever.

“I need to push,” Miranda murmured again, a plaintive almost questioning tone in her voice before arching her back and spreading her knees slightly as her head fell back and she bounced gently through the next contraction.

Her breath was ragged as she opened her eyes again. “Andrea?”

Reading the editor’s mind as she always had, Andy moved around the ball, keeping one hand on the sphere protectively so that it wouldn’t roll away if Miranda’s grip faltered.

Andy’s fingers pressed strongly into the base of her spine and Miranda allowed short and low vocalizations to fall from her lips as she resisted the overwhelming urge to bear down.

“Dr. Jansen should be here any minute,” Andy murmured as Miranda’s breathing quickened with the onset of another contraction. They were even closer together now, and Andy knew that soon she wouldn’t be able to stop Miranda from pushing - nor of course could Miranda stop her own labour or stop herself from delivering the baby who was so determinedly making his way into the world.

“I want to push, it’s time. I need to push!” Miranda hissed, speaking through clenched teeth as another physical sensation overtook her. The pressure in her body shifting again, Miranda untangled herself from Andy’s hold and struggled to her feet, disappearing into the bathroom where Andy heard the lock click.

Deciding Miranda would call if she needed her, Andy sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her face tiredly. But hearing Miranda call out for her, all thoughts of rest were once more forgotten and the editor again became her sole focus and the only thing that mattered in that moment.

“Miranda?” Andy crouched down in front of the older woman, who to her surprise, was still seated on the edge of the toilet

Miranda rocked back and forth, whimpering slightly as she kept her hand between her legs as though the inch of scalp that was showing meant that she had to hold in the baby lest it fall out.

“A-after I had finished, I - I felt like I had to use the restroom again and then I couldn’t stop myself from pushing and I, I can feel the head.” Panicked baby blues pierced brown with a plaintive, almost entreating expression.

Andy knelt next to Miranda, looking into her face as she instinctively began to rub Miranda’s lower back as she spoke. She knew what the answer would be to her next question but she still felt as though she had to ask it anyway.

“Did you want to stay here for a few contractions if it felt good to push like this? It’s actually a pretty common place to deliver.”

“Our children will not be born over a toilet!” Miranda hissed, looking suddenly murderous.

Yep, that had been a non-starter alright. “Okay, alright, just thought I’d ask. Come on, let’s get you up then.”

Although she was sweating and covered in a thin layer of perspiration, Miranda started to shiver violently as Andrea took her hands and helped her up. Seeing the older woman’s discomfort and feeling the damp, perspiration soaked fabric rapidly cooling beneath her fingers Andy disappeared for a moment, returning with a fresh change of clothes

A nursing tank top, albeit from La Perla, with a built in bra and an empire waist, cut so that it flowed over her belly for modesty but was short enough and loose enough so as not to get in the way of the doctor or the monitoring bands. And over that, a short silk robe.

Seeing the fresh clothes, Miranda nodded her approval and Andy began to slide off the old - relatively speaking, considering this WAS Miranda Priestly they were talking about - tank top when she saw the editor turn her head away as she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror.

“Hey, no, none of that…You are so beautiful, you know that?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever feel beautiful again,” Miranda muttered disbelievingly as she caught sight of her distended and marked body in the mirror.

“I could never have imagined how strong you are without watching you these last few months and it’s made me more in awe of you than any draconic moniker or comparison or sinfully cut pantsuit ever could. You represent life to me, Miranda. You are my life, and this body is more than I could ever want, and all that I could ever need.”

Miranda sucked at her bottom lip as Andy finished pulling down the camisole and smoothing her hands over the curves she spoke of so lovingly.

“You do realize, that sex is the absolute last thing on my mind at this moment, Andrea? The only thoughts I have regarding that area involve ‘out’ and ‘pain’ and ‘babies’. There is nothing sexy about any part of my anatomy at the moment.”

Andy chuckled, relieved that Miranda was acting more like herself than before. “No, not right now,” Andy agreed smiling, “right now your body belongs to these babies and it’s working so hard to bring them out into the world. And that is always going to be the best thing about it and why once you’re healed, I am going to worship it with every part of my body.

Despite the pain and exhaustion coursing through her body, Miranda shivered in arousal before submitting once again to the expulsive efforts of her body to deliver the first of the babies, coming to her senses again minutes later to find herself bent double, gripping Andrea’s forearms so tightly that her fingernails had left half-moons of blood as they pierced the pale skin.

“Oh Andrea, I’m sorry,” Miranda gasped, breathless from the contraction and riddled with guilt as she looked over the matching sets of puncture wounds.

“Hey, it’s okay, I can take it,” Andy joked, trying to make the older woman feel better. “That’s what I’m here for. I signed up for it all, remember?” she waggled her ring finger and grinned.

“Come on, let’s get you back in the bed so you’re ready when the nurse comes back in and we’ll see if you’re dilated enough to push.”

“Andrea, if I can feel the baby’s head, and it’s visible to you, then I am long since fully dilated and the head has already passed through my cervix,” Miranda spoke through gritted teeth as she braced herself for the next round of surges that came just as Andy was helping her into position on the bed.

Andy watched Miranda’s belly physically change shape as another contraction took hold, pressing in on the two tiny forms in her belly so that the straining muscles were outlined in an almost rectangular shape.

But the little grunting noises Miranda was making even between contractions now had Andy worrying that she was closer to delivery than they thought.

“Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“A lot of p-pressure,” Miranda ground out between clenched teeth as she arched her back off the mattress in her attempt to slow the birth until such a time as there was trained medical personnel in attendance.

“It’s coming,” she spoke in a half-whisper, half-whimper, her eyes wide as she stared down at her stomach in a kind of muted horror, the tensely contracting globe rising and falling with her short, sharp breaths that coincided with the slow emergence of a round, foreign body stretching the fragile skin at the entrance of her body.

A ragged sob broke free as she felt the muscles in her belly contract and convulse, drawing her babies into a world she wasn’t sure they were ready for.

“Miranda,” Andy spoke calmly as she brushed back the limp white strands from the sweat matted forehead, “My love, I think we need to face the facts that these babies are coming now.”

“No,” the older woman growled as she gripped the bedsheets tighter in her hands as the contraction peaked. “Oh God!”

“Miranda, your water has already broken,” Andy tried to reason in low soothing tones in the wake of the other woman’s rising panic.

“Do you remember what Dr. Jansen said? It’s better for you and for the babies to be born as quickly as possible now, alright?”

“Alright, alright…”

“But I don’t want you to push yet.”

“Wh-what? Andrea how do you expect the babies to be born?”

“Let your body do the work for you. If you push now and push hard enough, you’ll rupture the scar tissue from the girls’ birth and that can cause…complications,” Andy stopped herself from saying haemorrhage and managed to conceal her shudder from Miranda. There were so many things that could go terribly wrong with the birth and she cursed herself now for reading up on them when there was nothing she could do for Miranda now.

“Come on; let’s try walking around a little bit to see if we can bring the head down,”

One arm firmly wrapped around Miranda’s waist and the other clasped tightly by the woman in question, Andy led Miranda slowly up and down the hallways, that were still disconcertingly bare.

And in between contractions, Miranda wondered how the young woman seemed to so intuitively know when her next contraction was going to be and position herself so that she could use her as support until it was over.

During contractions, Miranda would turn into Andy’s chest and bury her head in her shoulder, leaning with nearly all her weight draped across the younger woman who alternated firm and gentle pressure on her back and hips to relieve the torturous pressure that gathered there. As time wore on, Miranda cared less and less about appearance or dignity and took to doing whatever she could to ease the pain and speed the birth. Nothing mattered anymore, nothing except for giving birth. If parading naked through Anna Wintour’s offices at Vogue would mean that she would immediately progress to ten centimetres she would have done so gladly.

But as it was, Miranda pushed, every effort and every trembling and quivering muscle going into delivering the baby and she strained harder, her face growing red and the veins in the side of her neck standing out as she followed Andrea’s order to bear down, visualizing the internal path their daughter would take to greet them. She broke off from her efforts, gasping and instantly Andy was ready with a damp cloth to wipe away the perspiration that threatened to run into her eyes and lay sticky on her skin. Tenderly, the young woman washed every tired limb, refreshing the cloth every so often so it remained cool against her skin.

She wanted to know how far she’d come. She had been pushing for what felt like hours and still Andrea had said nothing about the baby being visible. She couldn’t see over her own stomach to verify anything of course and she didn’t want to disappoint the younger woman by failing to progress when she knew how much Andrea had secretly wanted a natural birth. So shifting her weight to one arm as she remained on hands and knees, Miranda took matters upon herself and reached back to see if she could feel the baby. But she was evidently weaker than she had anticipated given that as soon as she reached back, her supporting arm gave out and her chin nearly hit the guardrail of the hospital bed as she fell forward.

“Miranda! Are you okay? What happened” Andy helped Miranda back into a reclined sitting position against the pillows and smoothed the pregnant woman’s bangs back as she spoke before they gravitated to her belly as was their wont.

“I wanted to know if I had dilated any further. The hospital staff appears to all have lost their hearing or their will to continue working seeing as we’ve rung for them four times now and not a single soul has appeared.

Andy’s hands continued to work their magic as they gently massaged the bump and Miranda felt some of the residual soreness of her abdominal muscles ease along with the tension in her shoulders and she sighed.

Andy watched as the readings on the monitors that showed Miranda’s heart rate lowered and slowed down and gave her own sigh of relief.

“Miranda you don’t need to worry about efficiency while you’re in the process of giving birth. They’ll come when they’re ready,” she tightened her hold on the bump slightly to emphasize her point. “As long as you and the babies are safe and doing okay I’ll wait as long as I have to.”

“And if they want to take me for a Caesarean? You said before you didn’t want that. I thought…”

“You thought what? That I wouldn’t stay? That I would leave? No! Do I want them to cut into you and risk your life by putting you under anaesthesia? No! That’s why I told Dr. Jansen I wanted you to have a natural birth. But if anything should happen and you need to go into surgery I will be right there with you as long as they let me, and I’ll be right there with you when you wake up, maybe even holding our babies.”

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this, Andrea. I wish, I want to be strong for you, for them…”

“It takes so much more strength to be this vulnerable, and this open and to share this with me. It is the most amazing gift you could give me other than these two beautiful babies you are giving birth to as we speak. Don’t you ever apologize for letting me see you like this because it makes me the luckiest girl in the entire world.”

“What I have done to deserve you, Andrea, I don’t know…” Miranda stopped speaking and groaned as she was cut off by another pain, letting her sweaty forehead rest against the soft, dry skin of the younger woman’s shoulder and gritting her teeth against the pain that felt as though it were turning her inside out.

“I don’t,” she swallowed thickly, “I don’t feel well.”