The Family Origin

Chapter Fifty-Six: MAISIE POV

Joseph's behaviour became more and more odd as I became closer to giving birth. At first, I thought he might be drunk, but I found no whiskey bottles around the house and his words were not slurring. When we ate dinner, he would push the food around with his fork for a few minutes as he muttered a few words before eating. Joseph and Miles did manage to speak to each other without arguing.

When Miles would go outside at night to sit around a fire, Joseph loved putting his hands against my stomach to feel the baby moving. Despite him doing this for months, his smile never lessened. He would tell me stories about Clara's pregnancies and when they had newborns. It reminded me so much about how Clara spoke to me when I was pregnant with Briar. The only difference was Joseph would run his hand over my hair and sometimes brush his knuckles along my cheek. He always pulled away and went up to his room when the kitchen door lock would click and turn. Miles never asked about what would happen in the home while he was outside by the fire. He would usually tell me to go upstairs to rest, and he would spend the rest of the night by my side.

One night, Miles fell asleep with his hand on my stomach. I was unable to sleep because of the pain in my back. No matter how I readjusted my weight, I could not relieve any of the aches in my muscles or bones. Miles was laying on his side, and his breathing was deep and rhythmic. In the moonlight, I could see how his strands of dark hair fell over his face. His large size forced him to take up most of the one side of the bed. I placed my hand over his and watched him sleep.

My eyes were heavy, and I almost fell asleep when I felt the first contraction. I gasped as a new wave of pain ran through my body. The feeling brought me back to the excruciating hours of Briar's birth. This was going to get so much worse.

I tapped Miles's hand, and he groaned as he stirred. He did not wake, and settled against my side. I shook his shoulder, but put more force behind my action. His hand left my stomach as he rubbed his eyes.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I think the baby is coming," I said.

Miles pushed himself up higher. His movements were frantic as he tried to get out from underneath the blankets and turn on the oil lamp as fast as possible. He stacked his pillow behind my head to prop me up higher. I tried to remember Joseph's advice last time, and I focused on my breathing.

"I should get my Dad," Miles said.

"Not yet," I said. "Let Joseph rest. The baby will not be here for a while."

Miles let out a deep breath. There was an etch of worry in his usually blank expression. The change was subtle, but I could see the slight furrow in his brows and the way he chewed on his bottom lip as he stared at me.

I was hit with another wave of pain. The contractions seemed to be starting quicker. Was my labour not going to be as long as painful as Briar's? I held my stomach and grimaced as I waited for the pain to pass.

Miles sat on the edge of the bed. When I opened my eyes, his fear was more apparent. His eyes were wide, and he gripped my arm. I forced myself to smile in an attempt to reassure him. Seeing him worried was unnerving, and I did not need that to add to my anxiety.

"I am okay," I said. "We have already been through this together before."

Miles let go of my arm to touch my stomach. His palm was slightly above my own. The crease between his eyebrows disappeared, but he continued to chew on his lip. He was silent, and I focused on my breathing. My eyes were closed as I anticipated the next painful contraction.

"Do you ever think about Briar?" he asked.

I opened my eyes and looked up at him. We rarely spoke about Briar. The few times I mentioned her name, Miles became quiet and usually stormed away. It became easier to be quiet, and it also stopped me from getting upset about our daughter. There were still moments I would get teary-eyed thinking about my baby.

"I think about her," I said without getting into too much detail. "How about you?"

"Every night," he said. "The fire helps distract me, but I think about her a lot."

I never asked Miles why he sat next to a fire every night and excused it as a quirk. In my mind, it was just something he did. Was he often upset and worried? Our family had gone through so much in the past two years.

"She must have been weak," Miles said. His voice was soft like he was muttering to himself. "She was always so small."

He slid his hand to the side of my stomach as he felt the baby move.

"I think this baby will be stronger," I said. "This one has been kicking me a lot harder."

"It's a boy," he said. "I have a feeling it's a son."

I watched the worry wash off Miles's face as he watched my stomach. He was quiet. I would have loved to know what was going through his mind, especially once he softly smiled.

We were going to be parents again.

Our peaceful moment was interrupted when I was hit with another contraction. My muscles tightened as I gritted my teeth. Remembering to breathe was already getting harder. These contractions were different than the ones with Briar. Miles shifted his weight on the bed so that he was next to me. He stretched his one arm around my shoulders and grabbed both of my hands.

We stayed in this position as we spoke about our new baby. Miles told me he had assembled the crib a few days ago, and it was waiting in the basement. After comparing a variety of names, we decided on Jasper for a boy and Lilian for a girl. Every time I experienced a contraction, I would squeeze Miles's hands and focus on my breathing. He kissed the top of my head and held me close until the pain lessened.

While in labour, there was only one thing I could think about: we were going to be a complete family again.

–

My skin was slick with sweat and my breathing was heavy when I heard my baby's cry. I smiled as my shaky hand brushed a piece of hair away from my face. The cries were heavenly and I almost burst into tears at the sound. My baby was here.

I wanted to see my newborn, but my arms were too weak to push my body up any higher. Miles and Joseph had a basin of water, and I could see a small arm waving in the air as they quickly washed the baby before Joseph wrapped them in one of Clara's small knit blankets. Miles's face was bright, and he smiled as he set the baby down in my arms before sitting next to me.

"It's a boy," he said.

He was bigger than Briar but still seemed so tiny and fragile in my arms. His crying soon calmed, but his skin was still red. Already, I could see Miles's features in our son, like his dark strands of hair and big eyes.

"He's perfect," I said.

Speaking made me realize I was crying. Miles said nothing about my tears of happiness and pulled me closer.

"Jasper," I repeated the name we had agreed on. "He's beautiful."

Miles pressed his lips against the side of my temple. Despite all of this pain, I was in an absolute bliss again.