Page 71 of First Comes Orc, Second Comes Baby
Once they were in the car, Ati called her brother and put him on video.
“Stay hydrated,” Samesh said, “and mobile as long as you can. The center has pools. Are you doing a pool? Don’t worry about poop, it’s natural. We’ll be there soon, but don't worry, I won't let Reggie come in the room until she’s meditated.”
Sitting next to Samesh, but slightly out of the camera, Regine grunted. “Be snappy about it, girl. I want to meet my grandchild before we go on vacation.”
“Vacation?” Auntie exclaimed. “Sam, this isn't the time for vacation!”
“Of course not, we're going to reschedule. Regine, we will discuss this later,” he cut off his wife’s protest.
“Fine, fine,” was the grudging response. “We'll be by soon.”
“I'll keep her on a leash,” Samesh promised.
22
Charlotte leanedher forehead on the soft edge of the birthing pool, trying to absorb the feeling of weightlessness and translate it into painlessness.
That wasn't going so well.
“I think I want the drugs,” she moaned. “Oh my god, this shit is for the birds.”
“You're doing well,” Brahnt murmured, slowly rubbing circles on the small of Charlotte's back.
Brahnt had stripped down to swim shorts and alternated between getting in the pool and getting out of the pool, according to Charlotte's wishes. After arriving at the birthing center, he'd seemed to get ahold of himself and become the unflappable rock she needed while attempting to recall why the hell she’d wanted to go through natural childbirth in the first place.
Oh, yeah. That evening around the bonfire listening to the Orcesses talk about their birthing war stories.
“Someone slap me,” she muttered.
“No negative energy,” the doula chanted in her low, soft voice. Everything was low and soft, except for the contractions.
The lights were dim, fat scented candles dotted the room for ambiance, and the playlist Charlotte and Brahnt had meticulously selected over the last several weeks droned on.
“Give me drugs, or give me a C-section,” Charlotte panted.
“You're doing so well,” Brahnt said. “You wanted me to remind you—”
“Fuck what I said to remind me about!”
“You can have the drugs if you want,” Caro said from the corner, “but I don't think you'll be happy if you go with a C-section. You wanna give it another five minutes?”
This was Brahnt and Caro's tag team response every time Charlotte asked to abandon the pool. Praise and reassurance from Brahnt with Caro in the role of slightly bad cop, telling Charlotte no, suck it up.
In the back of the part of her mind that could still think despite the pain—Brahnt slid a straw in Charlotte's mouth, and she sucked down another gulp of mango lassi—she knew they were right.
“Just one more,” she said after the contraction eased. “I can do one more.”
On and on the cycle went until it was at the point where Charlotte thought she was going to rip somebody's eyes out from the pain, but then the urge to push hit her like a Mack truck.
“Let's ease into it,” the midwife said. “Let your body do most of the work.”
Yeah, this was one of the things of all the things she and Brahnt had decided on back when they’d been so naive about this whole process. The whole letting the body expel the baby naturally thing.
It was a good thing. It soundedgreatin theory.
Charlotte wanted this little motherfu—
“Language,” Caro said.
