Page 24 of Beary Mated Christmas

And just like I feared, Mac showed up early, bag in hand. It looked like one of those old-fashioned doctor’s bags fromLittle House on the Prairie. As ridiculous as was, it was also kind of perfect.

“How’s he doing today?” Mac asked.

“Not so good. His back’s really hurting him, and his balance is worse.”

“That’s not good.”

Those were not the words I wanted to hear from the midwife.

“It might be time to induce,” he added.

“He does not want a hospital,” I reminded him.

We had agreed that if it was the only way, he would go, but if not, we’d fight for the birth he wanted.

“You wouldn’t have to go to the hospital,” Mac assured me. “It’s just a tincture.”

“They’re still weeks away.” It was too soon.

“The baby’s ready. Due dates aren’t set in stone. Let’s check out your mate, and we’ll go from there.”

Abel was happy to see him when he walked out of the bathroom and told him everything he was feeling, which was so much more than even I realized. Mac then went about his normal routine of checking vitals, taking measurements, pricking his finger.

“What do you think about having this baby today?” he asked.

Abel hadn’t been there for the earlier conversation, and his jaw dropped. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. But I think your body’s tired. And this baby is not small. If we do this today, it’s better odds of avoiding a C-section.”

“Induce me, then.” He didn’t even wait a second to respond.

My mate was terrified of having a C-section, to the point where Mac had sat down with him earlier and explained how sometimes it was the only way, and that it wasn’t a failure. He even offered to help him meet some people who’d had them. Mac didn’t see a scenario where Abel would need that, but he wanted him to be prepared.

He was a really good midwife.

Mac gave my mate a tincture in a little bottle. The liquid was fluorescent orange. It looked more like a Halloween decoration than a medication, but my mate said it tasted good. So there was that.

And then we waited.

Not for long.

It shouldn’t have been called induction; it should’ve been called evacuation. Once that kicked in, everything went quickly. Contractions came. My mate screamed. More contractions hit.

Abel had me sit behind him so he could lean against me, holding both of my hands in front of him as he was guided to push by Mac.

“Push,” Mac said. “Everything looks great. Everything’s perfect.”

His calm voice and experience added a steadying presence, but I still hated it. Seeing my mate in so much pain… I would’ve done anything to take it from him.

And then he cried out one last time, his cries melding with those of our child.

“It’s a boy,” Mac said, cleaning him up enough to place him on my mate’s chest.

“Something’s wrong,” Abel said suddenly. “Something’s really wrong. I feel like I need to push again.”

“It’s probably the placenta. It’s normal,” Mac reassured him. “Do you want your mate to hold your son while we get this done?”

He nodded, and I slid out from behind him and took our baby in my arms. He was absolutely beautiful, but I wasn’t able to soak in all his details as my mate screamed out again.