birth and labour

Angel

Shawn Mendes x Reader

Word count: 1,196

A/N: This one is for one of the greatest people on earth, @shawns-love , ily a lot. Shawn as a father…

Masterlist


Y/N’s P.O.V

Shawn has basically been pregnant with me during the last 4 months. He would wake me up in the middle of the night saying he was craving a cheeseburger and did I want one. I mean, obviously I did, but who’s the pregnant one here? Watching the excitement in his face as we set up the nursery and picked out clothes and toys and bedding was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. He’s been looking forward to meeting our little baby since the very first day it was confirmed that I was pregnant. I love him for that. For always supporting, and loving, and caring for me.

All of these heartwarming thoughts are flooding my brain as I stare at Shawn pacing back and forth in the hospital room. “Shawn, baby, I’m fine. My contractions aren’t that close together yet. Have patience.” I say to a frantic Shawn, trying to calm him down a little. He just huffs and stands still, tapping his foot restlessly on the ground. “Shawn. Come here.” I reach out my hand as Shawn walks over to me, a defeated look on his face. “I’m sorry. Sorry,” he says, taking both of my hands in his, “I’m just so nervous and I want everything to go as perfectly as possible. And I just really love you so much and-” Shawn’s tangent is interrupted by the doctor finally entering the room with a warm smile on his face.

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Raymond de Merville x fem!reader (Series 2 Part 9)

Previously:

Series 1: masterlist

Series 2: Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8

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France, 1209AD 

Your labour began quickly and within an hour you knew that you were minutes away from your daughter being born. Raymond had watched you writhe in pain, unable to hold back your vocalisations of the agony raging through you from your burns and the contractions. He held your hand, kissed your head and watched as you wept. 

The healer stood at your feet, watching as the baby began to crown. “You will need to begin pushing,” he instructed. 

“I can’t!” you groaned loudly, dropping into the stacked pillows behind you. The burn on your back scraped against the pillows and you arched your back, crying out. “Please, I want the pain to end.” 

Raymond got up from his seat, pulled his tunic off and threw it to the floor, then gently eased you forwards. As he got into the bed behind you, he shoved the pillows out. “Rest back against me,” he said, hoping that because he was now without clothing on his top half, your skin would not be irritated by fabric. You felt Raymond’s warm chest behind you and he pulled you against him, helping you as you still did not have the full use of your right arm. He put his one arm around your middle, above your bump, holding you and then his other hand held your left one, stabilising you. “You can do this, my love,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. 

You had no fight left within you. All the pain had stripped it away, leaving exhaustion and agony behind. “I can’t, Raymond,” you panted. 

“You can. You are the strongest and most courageous of anyone I know,” he told you. “Our baby needs you. She can’t do this without you. And I’m not going to let you do it alone. Put as much pressure against me as you need to.” 

You could feel your daughter needing to be born, and the need to push became stronger, until you had no control left and began pushing. Using everything you had left, you helped your daughter into the world, with Raymond holding on to you. 

Then you heard newborn cries. But darkness came over you again. 

                                         ********************************

Raymond remained at your bedside constantly, cradling your daughter in between nursing. Even feeding time was exhausting, and you would instantly fall asleep afterwards, leaving your newborn with Raymond. You only held her once, and even then you almost dropped her. 

The first week after your baby was born and you only remembered snippets, like the flashing of a projector, intermittent scenes. 

Raymond knew that you were weak, still healing from your burns and the effects the machine had had on your body. Every night he would sit beside you, your daughter in a crib at the bottom of your bed, and he would hang his head in shame. How could he have allowed this? You were his family and needed him. But he felt good for nothing, having let you both down. 

Your baby still had no name. 

One day he held her in his arms, his hand brushing across her head, feeling her fine hair beneath his fingers. He smiled, watching her wriggle and yawn. She was such a beautiful sight. Then he placed a gentle kiss against her head. “My little Belle,” he whispered. “Just as beautiful as your mother.” 

Lucille came in behind Raymond, watching him in such a sweet moment with his daughter. “My Lord?” she asked. 

“Yes?” he snapped, not wanting to be disturbed from time with his daughter. 

“Do you wish to bathe and rest? I will look after your daughter for you. You will not do well if you continue going without sleep. They need you to be rested for them,” Lucille said. 

Raymond turned around, kissing his daughter again. “You are right,” he replied, shamed by his outburst. He looked at his little girl for a few seconds, smiling at her as her eyes opened. “I have named her Belle.” 

My Own Daughter? - Tony x Reader

Requested by ske072103 - i know its very short but i’m suffering terrible writers block 


“SCREW YOU TONY STARK” you screamed gripping Tony’s hand and squeezing, trying to give him the pain you were currently going through. “IM NEVER HAVING SEX WITH YOU AGAIN”

“okay that’s a bit extreme” he grunted with his hand still in your grip.

“really? you think that’s EXTREAME!” you started shouting again. You had been in labour for 8 hours and now it was time to push.

“okay I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry. I don’t suppose you could loosen your grip could you” you just looked at him and squeezed harder giving him the answer. “right, stupid question. Just push baby”

“YOU PUSH” you screamed at him

“I know it hurts gorgeous, you ca…” he didn’t get the end of the sentence before you interrupted him.

“DO YOU, DO YOU REALLY?” you hissed

“one last push, your doing well” the doctor called to you as you threw your head back in excursion.

“TONY!” you screamed before feeling sudden relief.

“hey, remember the last time you were screaming my name?” he smirked in your ear, causing you to glare at him. After Tony cut the cord your precious baby girl was handed to you. Tony kissed you lightly on the forehead, moving the hair from your red face. “I’m so proud of you Chiana, look at what we did” he smiled and you swore you saw a tear in his eye

“What we did? I think I did most of the work, really. I carried her around for 9 months and went through all that pain” Tony just continued to gaze at your baby in your arms. “I’ll give you 12%”

His looked up at you quickly, “12%? Of my own daughter.”

“Yes, you get pregnant, go through sickness and labour and then you can take more credit” you smirked at his face as he pouted.

“I suppose” he chuckled and leaned in to kiss you. “I love you sweetheart.”

“and I love you Iron man. What should we call her?” you looked down at her and smiled, moving the blanket from her face slightly.

“How about (pick a name)?” he whispered before sniffling.

“Tony Stark are you crying?” you smiled and looked up at him.

“can I not be happy about having a beautiful family” he chuckled and wiped the tears away quickly with the back of his hand.

Blessed

Several hours after your waters braking in the front of your father’s car you were finally dilated enough to start pushing. “Where’s Leroy?” You asked your brother frantically “He’s on his way sis, he had to hand the case over to Tony and with the way he drives he should be here any minute now” Tim joked trying to lighten up the mood “Find him!” You groaned as a contraction hit. Doing as he was told, Tim jumped up and ran out of the room. “Deep breaths, Miss Pride” the midwife coaxed as the contraction slowly passed. “Dad” you coughed after the contraction passed “Don’t struggle sweetheart. I got you” Dwayne smiled softly. “When Leroy gets here, don’t kill him. I’m two weeks early so he wasn’t expecting this” you chuckled as best you could. “For you sweetheart, I’ll try my best not too” Dwayne chuckled also. After two more contractions Tim came running back in with Leroy in tow. “I’m so sorry honey, I got here as fast as I could” Leroy smiled softly as he panted trying to return his breathing to normal. “Dad, Tim do you mind waiting outside? I’ll get Leroy to call you in when it’s all over” you smiled trying not to grin. After what seemed like eternity to your father and brother a midwife finally called them in. Leroy wasn’t anywhere to be seen but they just thought he had nipped off to the toilet. “Dad, Timmy, I’d like you to meet Jackson Dwayne Gibbs” You smiled “Oh and you might want to meet his sister, Phoenix Grace Gibbs” Leroy grinned as he came out from behind a curtain. The shock on your brother and fathers faces was priceless. 

Originally posted by of-badges-and-guns

Originally posted by chattymissy

So far my labour plan is ‘call my mum when I have contractions so she can come over and we can all watch Les Mis, Lord Of The Rings and other long movies to try and pass the time whilst she makes tea and snacks and I wait until I need to call my midwife.’


Should be good if I’m in for a long labour.


Also I turn 37 weeks pregnant tomorrow which means he’s considered full term and I can officially have him at home! Yay!

Rosebud

Winter Solstice, has found me
Deathly afraid of tonight’s outcome
All these questions not asked before
Leave me breathless, desperate for air
To be released from this self induced torture
I find myself making deals with God
What sort of hell had I gotten myself into?

Nothing good could happen
I imagined, it marked the Twilight of my childhood
If I were able to stop the panic, look around
There were signs and messages abound
To soothe me and offer solace
Hestia’s ancient words fell upon deaf ears
Absorbed by my misery

If I were able to look out a window
I would have felt nature aligned
The Winter Solstice, and a full moon aglow in the dark
The pain was more than I could bear
Hubris to thinking that as a teenager I was ready for this
Please let me turn back time, to whomever was listening
With these crescendos of pain they wanted me to push at the crest of the wave

Gaia did smile upon me and gifted me a small mercy
Very little pushing, from my womb appears, a wiggly thing covered in goo was flopped onto my chest
I was happy when she was taken away
My thoughts were cruel-bright red and shrivelled were not what I expected a baby to be
It confirmed my fears-I was going to do a terrible job
I didn’t feel anything towards her, not in my heart or in my bones
Yet she is of my flesh-should I not feel a connection, right away?
The nurse was coming back with a little pink football, clean and swathed
Once she my arms I looked down
Falling instantly inlove-she had the perfect little rosebud lips
Willow, my beautiful daughter, I’ve never felt more love

Melissa Watson ©

Imagine #75

Imagine Draco being right beside you through labour when you gave birth to your daughter, your first child. You both can’t believe that she is finally here.

Originally posted by edsonlnoe

Originally posted by weasly-is-our-king-934

salvadors ode to Sweden

we’re not ready to give up,
call my name call my name,
poems are writing the readers.

we will tell in time, time will tell in cells,
who yell, all who fell, from hell’s bells.

come out of me po-e-tree,
fly free, up with the highest bee,
see, flea, fleet, defeat, de foot
is in de mouth, heading south.

the readers are writing the poems,
poems are writing the readers, hiding in northern bird feeders,
please forgive me for my trespasses,
I have not texted you in weeks (?)
I wanted to tell you, I hear you peeing,
the last time I saw you, you looked golden
that is all I wish for you,
secret neighbour in labour, birthing a novel writer.

we’re not giving up so easily,
with a whimper, a bang and a roar,
haven’t I written all of this, before? hardcore!
this is what happens, when the poets start imitating fake news.

dedicated to Salvatori Torrente, a 19th Century Latin American poet who is dead, but I have decided will be my new boyfriend. 

Baby Series: Your Second Child Is Born ~ Harry

       "It hurts!!“ You cry out, grabbing at your husband blindly as you try to focus on what the doctor’s doing. "I know baby, just a little bit longer.” Harry assured you, running his thumb over the knuckles of your hand as you clenched it. “Ok Y/N, I can see the head! A few good pushes and this baby will be here!!” Dr.Smith cheered. You nodded and smiled before beginning another session of pushing. “You’re doing so good!” Harry whispered as he kissed your sweaty forehead. “Shut up!!!!” You yelled as another rush of pain hit you, really wanting all of this to just be over. Harry quickly backed off and began counting again as you did yet another round of pushing. “ONE MORE!!!! YOU CAN DO IT!!” Dr.Smith screamed in excitement. That single scream gave you the strength that you needed to do this. With one last deep breath, you pushed down with everything you had left, feeling a release of extreme pressure. “Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Styles, it’s a boy!!!!” you faintly heard the doctor say as he placed the gooey infant on your chest. Before you could even wrap your mind around what just happened, the baby was quickly whisked away from you to go and get cleaned up and examined. At that moment you and Harry just look at each other and immediately start sobbing, not because he was taken away, but because of the beauty that you had both created. A little over 2 years ago you had given birth to your daughter Claire, and she was absolutely perfect, but a boy was different. You couldn’t even explain the feelings that were going through your veins. “I-I’m so p-proud of you!!” Harry eventually whispered into your ear after what seemed like an eternity of sobbing into each others shaky figures. “I couldn’t have done it without you!” You smiled back, causing him to chuckle. Just as he was about to respond again, a nurse entered the room holding a blue bundle in her arms. “Would you like to hold your son Mr.Styles?” she asked. “Yes please.” Harry nodded, accepting the bundle into his arms. As he looked down at your freshly cleaned baby, his eyes widened and a huge smile came across his face, completely mesmerized by him. The room was silent for about 10 minutes until he looks up at you. “Do you wanna hold him??” He asks. You nod and Harry hands you the child. The only thing you can think is how utterly perfect he is as you stare down at him in amazement. “Hi buddy!” you whisper to him as a tear falls down your face. You, much like Harry, just sat in your hospital bed and stared at him in silence. Finally Harry broke the quietness by saying “So what are we gonna name him?”. CRAP!! You had been so wrapped up in your peaceful pregnancy to even think of coming up with a name. “Uuuumm…I don’t know. What do you think we should name him?” you asked, still staring down at the baby, but now in a confused way instead of a loving one. “I’m not sure.” Harry sighed, puzzled. “Well we’ll think of one eventually.” You smile, handing your son over to him again. The second he was in his arms Harry began softly crying again, causing your heart to melt as you thought about the amount of pure love that he had for that child even though he had only known him for an hour or so. “I think no matter what we decide to name him, he’ll still be the best son in the world.” You say. Harry looked up and grinned, nodding a bit. “He’s already so perfect, don’t you think?” You ask, letting out a few more tears, most likely from hormones. {{gif}} “yeah..” Harry squeaks, now letting his tears flow freely as he looked back down at the baby. Just as you both became silent again, the door to your room opened and you could hear tiny feet run in. “Buddah??” Claire questioned, pointing to the blanket in Harry’s arms. You nod and smile, but instead of the huge smile that you expected on her face, she responded with a frown. “Daddy, no cry! No cry daddy! No cry!” she whined, running over and hugging his arm. “Sorry babe, Daddy’s just happy that the baby is finally here.” He explained with a chuckle. “I see?” she asked, standing on her tippy toes to try and catch a glimpse of her brother. “Sure, c’mere Claire Bear.” You say, holding your arms out to lift her onto your bed. “Do you see him?” you ask, pointing. She nods as she examines his small face. “What do you think his name should be?” Harry asks her. “Andy!!” she yells after thinking for a moment. “Quiet babe, don’t wake him up!” you instruct, holding your finger to your lips to demonstrate. “I like it. Andrew…..something..Styles!” Harry whispers and you nod. “How about Jonathan? It was my grandpa’s name.” you say. “Andrew Jonathan Styles…..that’s lovely babe.” He smiles. At that very moment, you realized just how blessed you were to have such a beautiful, healthy family.