Page 69 of First Comes Orc, Second Comes Baby
“The midwife said walking helps labor progress,” Charlotte said. “I, uh, think I might have been in labor all morning.”
Ati’s eyes went wide. “What?! Why didn’t you say anything?”
Charlotte shrugged helplessly. “I've been having cramps on and off all morning, and they're getting worse. And now I just have a feeling. . .” she trailed off.
A feeling, a strong feeling, that this was it. She couldn't pinpoint why, and of course when she texted Brahnt, he would grill her for specifics. But she didn't have specifics.
She had afeeling.
Milgrida glanced between them. “Should we call Brahnt?”
Charlotte and Ati exchanged a knowing look. “Better not yet,” Ati said. “If you're in labor, you'll want peace and quiet as long as possible, and the males—especially the first time fathers—can be a bit frantic. In the old days we’d send them out to the forest to dance around the fire and slash their chests—the bloodloss always helped calm them down.”
“As bloodloss will do,” Charlotte muttered, then groaned, unsure if she was more excited or terrified. Either way, impending fatherhood was about to get very real, very quickly!
So though Brahnt sent two more perfunctory wellness check texts during the day—and there was something Charlotte couldn't pinpoint about those perfunctory texts that made her feel secure in her Orc’s affection, maybe because their tone was so “old married people,” Charlotte didn't tell him she was in labor.
And then it occurred to Charlotte that New York traffic was terrible.
You should start making your way home now, I'm having contractions
What? When did it start?
This morning
YOU’RE IN LABOR? You didn't tell me?
The midwife said first births usually take a while there was no reason to have you rush home, but considering traffic
I'm on my way.
Charlotte put the smartphone down and took a bite of the dish Ati had put in front of her face. She didn't know what it was, but it was sweet and carby, and it was good.
“Brahnt is on his way home,” she said around a mouthful.
Caro wandered into the kitchen and Ati ushered her to the table too, then set a plate in front of her.
“Milgrida has just about everything packed up for the birthing center,” Auntie said. “Enough food for all of us and some treats for the staff too.”
Ati had already informed them weeks ago that despite the elegant, nutritious menu offered by the plush birthing center Charlotte and Brahnt had chosen, they would be eating no food but hers.
Charlotte was okay with that. She could get fancy rabbit food any other time; she'd rather eat Auntie’s cooking any day of the week, especially since home-cooked meals had been the stuff of fantasy growing up.
Brahnt was home ninety minutes later, walking in on the tail end of a video call Charlotte had placed to the midwife when the cramps suddenly skipped over some line of demarcation into full-blown, mild contractions.
And, oh my god, was she feeling it. She'd managed to con herself into thinking she could handle this so far, but now she was having doubts.
This shit hurt.
This shit hurt like a bitch. And she'd suffered plenty of injuries in her dance career.
“. . .still early but if you'd feel more comfortable coming to the center now, there's nothing wrong with that,” the midwife was saying. “The contractions are still far enough apart that I think you have several hours to go.”
“We're on our way,” Brahnt said, taking over in his usual terse fashion.
The midwife smiled and nodded, and the call disconnected.
“How close together are the contractions?” Brahnt snapped, running a hand through his hair. Then he crouched.
