Hmmm what about the missus being really afraid and saying she can't do it (give birth) because it hurts so bad
It’s right in the middle of the pushing process. Just before she begins to crown, moments before the two of them become a family of three.
With Harry perched on the birthing ball rolled from the corner, she’s squatting between his knees, with her forehead pressing against his abdominal; just beneath the dip of his chest. Forearms braced on his thighs as he kept his feet planted to the covered floor to keep her stable, hands gripping and fisting at the hem of the t-shirt on his body, dressed in one of the most unappealing hospital gowns she’d been told to change into before things got a bit messier. His own hands cupping her shoulders as he whispered words of encouragement into her ear, cheek pressed against her head as she curled forward and let out tiny grunts of pain.
“I can’t do this,” she cries, throwing her head back and letting out a stomach-churning sob that broke Harry’s heart. A hand coming from her shoulder to wipe away the tears that dribbled down her cheeks and mixed with the sweat beads that covered her cheeks, catching at the corner of her lips, “Harry, I can’t do this. It hurts. It hurts so bad,” she sobs, gulping thickly as the words waver on her tongue, coming out wobbly and shaky and wet with tears.
All he wants to do is take away the pain but he can’t and it shatters his heart knowing she’s in a lot of pain and he can’t do anything about it but give her words of encouragement. Words of praise as he sits there helplessly and unable to do anything.
“Try not to push, my lovely. You’re about to start crowning so we need pants. Deep and heavy pants,” the midwife explains from her place behind her, cupping her hips and giving them soft pats, giving her back a rub to soothe her spine, “you’re doing so well. We’re very close to having the baby. This is just the tough part. Once the head is out, things will move much quicker. I promise you,” she coos, giving Harry a gentle smile.
“Hear that, Gorgeous? We’re so close,” he grins, teeth bearing and shining under the light of the room, “we’re going to have a baby soon. Our little girl. She’s so close,” he coos, cupping her face in his hands as he began to pant slowly, deeply and in a rhythm that was easy for her to catch on to once she’d calmed herself, “come on now. We practised this, didn’t we? In and out, in and out. No pushing. Just breathing.”
But she can feel the urge to push riding through her, fast and quick and it takes everything in her to pant out her contraction rather than pushing to the urge. Eyes locked on his green eyes as he brushed his thumbs over her wet cheeks, collecting the salty moisture on the pads of his thumbs, nails soothingly dragging down to her lips as he rid the build-up of liquid from her mouth. Panting with her in a gentle rhythm, and smiling when she was told to stop, the head of his baby girl sitting between her thighs and almost there in her human form.
“It hurts so bad,” she cries out, eyebrows furrowed as she shuffled on her aching feet and changed to kneeling on the ground between his legs, wincing as she pushed out her bum and followed the orders given by the lead midwife, “you’re never getting me pregnant again. This is it.”
“Just a couple more pushes, and we’ll have a baby.” xx