#Schreave babiesssssssssssssss

[hushedhands]

Challenge 78

For @blooming-rosesss​! Maxon’s experience of Maisy’s birth, when America’s blood pressure dropped and he had the daylights scared out of him. 

When America went into labor with Addy, it was slow, steady, and four days early. When she went into labor with Jamesy, it was long, drawn out, and a week and a half late. Neither Maxon nor America knew what to expect with their third baby, but when America went into labor right at noon on her due date, it came hard and fast.

Their birth plan had predicted anything from an even-paced ramp up like Addy’s birth had been, to an almost two-day marathon like Jamesy’s had been. But America’s contractions started abruptly, already strong enough that she had no doubt about what was happening. Though she was on maternity leave, she was in her office to be near Maxon just in case this very thing happened. She walked from her desk over to Maxon’s, told him that it was time, and before he could even finish packing away his work, America was doubled-over with the contraction that broke her water all over his office floor.

It was the kind of labor that Maxon thought only happened in movies, where one second everything was fine and the next second the mother was gritting her teeth through contractions, and the next scene she was pushing, and within a minute or two of dramatic film time, the baby was born. But he timed America’s contractions on their walk to the hospital wing and they were already less than ten minutes apart, a milestone that usually took her at least twelve hours to achieve.

Maxon wondered, as the nurse connected America to a machine to monitor her heart rate and blood pressure, and another to monitor her contractions, if maybe America hadn’t been in a kind of gentle labor all morning. What other explanation could there be? But the nurse didn’t seem alarmed at all. She said that the more naturally intense the contractions are, the faster the body dilates, and the sooner a baby is born. America’s body just usually took longer to ramp up the intensity. There was no cause for concern, this was all perfectly natural.

But unlike the nurse, Maxon was extremely concerned because he’d watched America’s contractions on the monitor for Addy’s and Jamesy’s deliveries. He’d never seen them spike this high, and they were only getting worse. Hearing his wife cry out in pain and being unable to help her was always the worst part of having a new baby, but it was one thing to hear her struggle. It was another to be able to see on a chart with his own eyes how ravaging these contractions were.

America was dilating faster than she ever had before, the only good news about the speed at which this baby was being born, in Maxon’s opinion. America would be done and resting comfortably in no time compared to her previous experiences. Even so, the hours that followed were some of the longest of Maxon’s life as they waited for her to finish dilating.

The contractions were so bad, and coming so fast, that Dr. Ashlar felt comfortable having the anesthesiologist administer pain-relieving medication relatively quickly after America’s arrival in the hospital wing. Maxon could have kissed the anesthesiologist on the mouth when he saw the sheer relief on America’s face as the drugs kicked in. Still, the contractions kept coming and kept growing stronger, and though the pain was gone, the pressure in America’s hips was unbearable.

The anesthesiologist returned twice to adjust the dose of pain medication America was receiving to keep her relatively comfortable, but Maxon could tell this labor was still wearing her down. She hadn’t even started pushing yet and she was covered in sweat despite how chilly the birthing sweet was kept. The fact was, her body was running a marathon at a sprint’s pace, and she was feeling it.

Maxon sat behind her on the bed for a while, allowing her to lay against his chest and squeeze both of his hands when the contractions came. From there, he was able to murmur into her ears, reminding her to keep breathing and that it would all be over soon. This had been America’s toughest pregnancy by far: she’d been sicker than ever in the early months, the aches and pains had been especially bad in the later months, and she’d been exhausted for nine months straight. Between that and having two children under the age of five, and a country to run, they were both very excited for this baby to be born so that America could regain a feeling of control over her own body.

They were excited, but even so, this was a bit extreme.

When Dr. Ashlar returned and checked America for dilation again, he announced that it was time to push. Maxon got into a position he knew well from Addy and Jamesy’s birth, on America’s right side holding her hand with his left, and keeping her knee up and in position with his right hand.

When her next contraction hit, Maxon could have sworn the bones in his hand cracked, but his adrenaline was too high to feel it. America gritted her teeth and pushed hard. The fact that she was already crying out and this was just the first push concerned Maxon. Was her pain medication not sufficient? Or was giving birth always this painful, even with medication? Maxon asked the doctor if they needed to give America more drugs, but the doctor was not comfortable going beyond the dose she’d already been given.

After only a few hard pushes, the doctor announced that he could see the baby’s head. Maxon, whose eyes had been locked with America’s as he coached her through that contraction, looked down and was stunned. There was the baby already! This was the fastest he’d ever been able to see the baby once America started pushing. “Ames! I can’t believe it, you’re so amazing. They baby’s right here!”

America smiled as she tried to catch her breath, and a few seconds later it was time to push again. The strength of the contractions seemed to be pushing the baby out at record speed. It’s little nose broke through as America cried out, tossing her head back and giving up pushing for a second. Maxon had learned by now that the baby’s face caused more pain than the shoulders as it was being born because of the stretch caused by its little nose. “That was the worst of it, America.” Maxon reassured her. “Keep breathing.”

The baby’s head was born. Maxon was looking down at the head of his next child, and he just couldn’t believe it. “The baby’s perfect!” he reported to her. “All we need are the shoulders and you’re done.” Once Dr. Ashlar could get those shoulders, he could gently pull the baby out and America would be finished pushing. She could rest.

The baby was born with the next monumental contraction, gorgeous and healthy. Maxon checked his watch and laughed with joy, it was only 5:30! America had given birth so fast, most of the Singers probably hadn’t even made it to the Palace yet. Wouldn’t they be stunned when, instead of having to wait all night, they’d get to hold their new little family member as soon as they arrived?

Maxon counted ten fingers and ten toes and heard the baby cry before America exhaustedly asked, “Boy or girl?” and Maxon remembered to check.

“A girl!” he exclaimed, tears flooding his eyes. They had another daughter. Their first daughter was the light of their life and now they were outrageously lucky enough to have another? It was a miracle. Their whole lives just got doubly better.

Maxon cut the umbilical cord and kissed America hard on the lips. She was trembling which he knew was normal, her body was going into post-labor shock. “You’re such a warrior. God, America, I can’t believe how incredible you are.”

She squeezed his hand and asked him to go keep an eye on the baby while they waited to dispose of the placenta.

Maxon joined his third child and Dr. Ashlar at the scale where the baby girl was being weighed. Eight pounds even, twenty inches long, with curly hair already on her head. Maxon volunteered to give her her first bath in the sink, and had just finished cleaning her up and wrapping her in her first teeny-tiny diaper, then swaddling her in a warm blanket, when he heard the nurse say loudly, “America? Can you hear me?” and then everything turned from joy to panic like a curtain falling.

A machine next to America’s bed began making loud siren sounds. Dr. Ashlar dropped the baby’s chart and rushed to America’s bedside, immediately issuing orders Maxon couldn’t understand. The nurse fled the room and Maxon hurried to America’s side, “Ames? Can you hear me?” he asked. The baby girl in his arms, only a few minutes old, started wailing at the sound the machine was making.  

“Your Majesty, I need you stay back.” Dr. Ashlar insisted.

Maxon barely heard him. His wife was unconscious and pale. “Her heart?” Maxon guessed.

“No. Her blood pressure has dipped, it’s dangerously low and she’s lost consciousness. Stay back so that we can help her, do you understand?” Dr. Ashlar asked again.

Maxon was lost. Leave America’s side? How?

Dr. Ashlar pointed to the corner of the room where the baby’s bassinet was waiting, “Go stand there.”

It was easier said than done, and in the end the only reason Maxon was able to walk away from America was that he wanted to get the baby away from that loud, horrible machine’s siren.

People began flooding into the room, all with instruments and trays full of vials. Maxon felt as if he’d left his body behind, but somehow that vacated body continued to comfort the newborn infant it held. The baby’s cries grew quieter as it took comfort in Maxon’s actions, the work of an experienced father, but Maxon noticed as if spotting a peculiar detail in a photograph that his own hands were shaking. Was he in shock too?

When the crowd of people around America thinned enough, Maxon saw that she had an oxygen tube in her nose and something was being added to her IV. Maxon looked for any sign of relief on the faces of the doctors and nurses, but everyone looked like they were at a funeral.

A funeral?

That couldn’t be right.

Maxon was holding a brand new baby girl in his arms, how could there be a funeral?

There couldn’t. America would never have a funeral. Never. Maxon needed her to wake up and hold this new baby to her chest. He needed her to bond with the baby, then teach the baby how to drink milk, and then introduce the new baby to their other babies.

Their other babies.

Addy and Jamesy needed America to wake up, they needed their mom. Didn’t these doctors and nurses understand, there were two excited kids on the other side of this Palace who needed to snuggle up to their mother? He and America had a whole plan for how to reassure both kids that they were still loved and cherished, even though they had a new sibling. The plan involved special cuddle time with America tonight. How could that happen if America stayed unconscious?

If she stayed unconscious forever?

Maxon pressed his lips to his daughter’s hair. Now that it was clean, he could see it was blonde like his. He and America had one kid with red hair and one kid with blonde hair, and this baby was the tie-breaker. She needed to wake up so that he could tell her that the blondes were now ahead in their family.

They also had one kid who was a girl and one who was a boy. America also needed to wake up  so that she could tell him that the girls were now ahead in their family.

Before he knew what was happening, he was praying. He was not especially pious, but he begged any god who would hear him out to save his wife. He begged to be taken in her place. He offered any price to any deity or demon, anything that could save her.

And then the siren stopped. The silence in the room made his ears ring, and for a moment he wondered if he hadn’t just sold his soul to the devil. If so, he didn’t care. The doctors around America were standing back, shoulders dropped, watching the machine that monitored her blood pressure and heart rate unblinkingly.

Waiting for the bottom to drop out again.

It didn’t happen.

Dr. Ashlar ordered the others out of the room, and then he joined Maxon in the corner. Maxon allowed himself to be guided to a seat by the window, still clutching his perfect new healthy baby girl to his chest.

Dr. Ashlar sat next to him and pulled off his paper scrub hat with relief. “Her blood pressure plummeted. Her organs weren’t getting enough oxygen, including her brain. We have her stabilized for now, but we need to watch her carefully until she’s fully recovered.”

Maxon didn’t know what to say, “Her heart condition—“

He’d had reservations about having a third child, given the heart defect America had been born with. She was on medication to help her heart, and she seemed completely healthy, but could it have caused her blood pressure to fall like that?

Dr. Ashlar simply said, “We don’t know what caused it. It could have been her heart, it could have been something else. I’ll confer with my team as we monitor her and we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“Is she… is she okay now?” Maxon asked. If her brain had been without oxygen for all of that time…how long had it been? How old was the baby in his arms? He checked his watch. Ten minutes? The baby’s birth and that entire crisis, the most horrifying thing to ever happen to him including the massacre that had stolen his parents from him, had only taken ten minutes combined? Time was a joke. Time was a meaningless farce and Maxon was furious at it.

America’s hand twitched.

“Go be with your wife. Let her bond with your new daughter.” Dr. Ashlar encouraged. “I’ll finish the paperwork and be back in a little while to check her over.”

“What if it happens again?” Maxon worried.

“That machine sends an alert directly to me.” Dr. Ashlar showed Maxon a little device he kept in his pocket that rang or buzzed when a patient needed help. “That’s how so many doctors responded so quickly when the siren started last time. I’ll know if she needs me before you do.”

Maxon supposed, if it was true that America had only been in trouble for a few minutes, that it really was impressive how quickly the medical staff had responded. He’d have to find some way to thank them in the future, maybe with flowers.

Maxon stood and carried the baby over to America, whose gorgeous ice blue eyes fluttered open. “Maxon?”

Maxon perched next to her on the bed and said, “Something happened, Ames.”

“What?” America asked as she realized that she had a tube in her nose. She went to remove it but Maxon placed a hand over hers to stop her.

While she pushed the button to raise her bed’s angle just a bit so that she wasn’t flat on her back, he told her all about how he’d almost lost her forever. He’d almost become a widow with three small children to raise all by himself while she’d been unaware that any time had passed at all.

She didn’t seem to think the danger had really been so great, but she’d been unconscious for the siren, so what did she know?

Maxon removed the blanket from their baby girl and placed her on America’s bare chest, then tucked them both in. America hummed the most beautiful song to the baby as best she could with a tube in her nose. Maxon asked her how she felt.

She was exhausted, sore, and still numb from the waist down thanks to her drugs. She hadn’t expected to be this tired after such a short labor, but she supposed she’d still done all the work of a regular labor, just in less time.

Maxon kissed her like there was no tomorrow, because there almost hadn’t been. America pulled away after a few moments, giggling, and loopily told him that they couldn’t make another baby for a few months. Maybe now she had too much oxygen in her brain, or maybe the drugs were still making her silly. Either way, Maxon frowned heavily because he knew that they could never have another baby and as much as that weighed on his heart, it was an easy trade to make for America’s safety. It was a conversation they’d have to have later, once she was out of the hospital wing and healed up.

America’s health stats returned to normal and she no longer needed the additional oxygen by dinner time. After dinner, Addy and Jamesy joined their parents for a very special family time. Maxon took a thousand pictures as Addy held her new baby sister for the first time ever and Kenna, who had been watching the kids that day, burst into happy tears. America squeezed her hand, tearing up a little herself, both fully understanding the bond that Addy would grow to have with her new sister in time. Maxon was thrilled that he and America had been able to give Addy such an irreplaceable companion.  

Jamesy was very gentle and loving with the new baby, but he was far more interested in getting attention from his mom and dad. Maxon held him, rocking him back and forth in his arms, while Addy continued to bond with the new baby in her mother’s lap. She’d been mad at the baby in recent months for taking up so much of America’s energy, but all of that anger seemed to be forgotten now that the baby was here for Addy to kiss.

The rest of the family came after the kids went to bed, each having gotten some alone time with their mom and dad, away from the baby, to reassure them that they were still loved. Maxon held America as she fell fast asleep, somewhere between May and Gerad’s turn holding their newest niece.

Maxon and America named the baby Carolynn, in honor of America’s home province. Because they were honoring her with the baby’s first name, America let Maxon choose the baby’s middle name all by himself. He chose his very favorite girl name still on their baby name list, knowing that he’d never have another daughter to give it to. Baby Carolynn’s middle name would be Maisy.

Maxon expected to present baby Carolynn Maisy Schreave to the people of Illéa on the steps of the Palace the following morning, but America stayed in the hospital wing for another full day while the medical staff continued to monitor her. This led to some wild, horrible rumors about America’s health in the media, all of which were squashed when America and Maxon finally stood before the people with their two-day-old baby girl, all as healthy as could be.

In those first quiet days on the third floor, they tried calling the new baby “Carrie” and they tried calling her “Lynn”, but the first time Maxon called her “Maisy” it clicked into place, and the third Schreave baby was known as “Maisy” from then on.