Birth Of My Son

Baby Cinco - ALT birth three

Hey, y'all!

So I talked to my bf about possible births for our final baby, and we had a few ideas. I liked them all I decided to have more than one bit scenario. So, all of these are "alternative" births to each other!

Here is the third alternative to our last kid!

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Sitting on the couch barely past midnight, watching Querétaro vs Mazatlán while Daniel folded the laundry.

"Vamos!" Daniel hollered at the TV, folding one of Marína's skirts before sitting it aside. "Vamos!"

"Forward!" I yelled.

Daniel grabbed a shirt of Samuel's and folded it before slapping it down and yelling in his mother tongue.

"Forward!"

"Vamos!"

"Go! Go!"

One of the players for Mazatlán kicked the ball into the goal, but it was blocked by the goalie.

"Dammit!"

Daniel started yelling at the screen in inaudible Spanish and I laughed hysterically.

I began to drown out his voice as I felt a rupture in my stomach - like an explosion of pain.

Now, most first contractions were easy to handle and not so numbing, but this one fucking hurt. It wrapped around my entire abdomen and uterus, forcing my eyes to squint shut.

"Daniel!" I gasped as it grew, feeling like the sound a fridge makes when it's making ice. "Daniel!"

"What's wrong?"

"I'm feeling a contraction, I think."

He moved to sit in front of me, on his knees. "Are you sure? This seems a lot worse than a first contraction. Should I take you to the hospital?"

I shook my head and set my hands on his shoulders, groaning.

"Let me take your pants off," he said as he gently moved to take my pants off of me, including my underwear so that I was only dressed from the top up. He played his hand on my belly and felt how hardened it was. "Okay..." he said to himself. "Should I-?"

"Oh-!" I crised as it tore through me with a sudden pop, and my water broke on our couch. I gasped and shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh, fuck," he said more to himself. "Okay... okay..."

"Oww..." I whined. "I need you to go get towels," I said. "please!"

He ran into our laundry room, sprinting back with several towels. He helped me sit back all the way on the couch, my legs spread apart. He lifted me just barely so he could place a towel underneath me.

"It hurts like a... like a pushing contraction," I informed him, salty tears falling down my face. "Fuck, it hurts so bad!"

"Do you think you need to push?" he asked.

"Not yet," I said as I shook my head.

"Do you want to stay here? I can inflate the birthing pool or run a bath. I can move you into the bedroom and we can-"

"No, no, I want to stay right here!" I begged. "Don't move me!"

"Okay, okay, I won't," he said. "I promise I won't. Just tell me when you feel like you want to move."

I set my hands back on his shoulders and my nails dug into his shirt. This contraction was taking for-fucking-ever.

Five minutes passed and it still was there, strong as ever.