Chapter 38: 38. The Fools Who Dream.
My pregnancy progressed flawlessly, and after a few days, I eagerly anticipated the moment when Damon would unveil his masterpiece on the wall. With his skilled hands and magical touch, he transformed the blank canvas into a stunning three-dimensional artwork. It was so lifelike that I could almost reach out and immerse myself in the scene.
As my due date approached, I found myself facing the daunting task of choosing baby clothes. Little did I know the vast array of options available - different materials, styles, and designers. I usually relied on two online shops for my clothing needs, but they presented me with a whole new world of choices. Each option was guaranteed to be safe and suitable for my babies, making it even more challenging.
Thankfully, Damon was there by my side, supporting me through the process. Time was running out, and I had to make my selections quickly. As the days dwindled, I realized I only had five days left. My belly had grown, and I could feel the gentle movements of my babies, but their powers remained dormant. Breastfeeding was regulated, and I had to follow strict guidelines.
Despite these limitations, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of joy. This pregnancy was unlike anything I had experienced before, even though I knew Mariella had gone through it multiple times. Instead of feeling jealous, I focused on cherishing each moment with Damon. He, too, reveled in this journey, always finding time to be by my side and help me choose the perfect clothes for our little ones.
I eagerly envisioned each of my babies having their own unique clothes. Once it was confirmed that I had four girls and three boys, we knew exactly what to get for each of them. As of yet, we had not given them names. We planned to wait until after their birth, as the moment we first laid eyes on them felt like the perfect time to discover their names.
The entire pack, including the other women, visited my room, and I reciprocated by visiting theirs. In Mariella's room, her artwork depicted a couple deeply in love, standing at the edge of a vast sea during sunrise. The painting exuded an overwhelming sense of love and affection.
Mimosa's artwork, on the other hand, showcased a vibrant array of birds and animals in a meadow nestled within a forest. Mystical creatures such as unicorns and dragons graced the scene, giving it an ethereal quality. Her artwork transported you to a world beyond our own dimensions.
Shadow's artwork was a beautiful composition of blooming flowers, lush plants, and delicate herbs. The painting seemed to emit the fragrant scent of blossoms, filling the room with a sweet aroma. Damon had skillfully crafted each of these artwork pieces, showcasing his undeniable talent and creating genuine works of art.
Although I knew that eventually, we would entrust our babies to the magic house. For now, this nursery was intended for our personal use. I wanted to spend countless hours here with my babies, these and for future ones, too, and perhaps even with cubs, in the future. If not, we would create our very own perfect cub room or nest.
Thanks to my pheromones, the entire pack had become prepared to welcome and nurture our babies. I felt a sense of relief now that I was nearing the end of my pregnancy. Occasionally, I experienced mildish false contractions, but I chose not to mention them. I knew I wasn't perfect, not by any means. The pain was there to be tolerated, and I had experience, so to my knowledge, false contractions were nothing to worry about.
I was one day before my due date, having slept quite a lot. I had been drinking my meals and the pack members checked on me regularly. It was nighttime, around three in the morning, when I suddenly woke up to a flood coming out between my legs. I realized my waters had broken. Strong contractions hit me rapidly, and I knew Damon tended to Mariella during the nights.
My instincts took over once again. Although I was still sleepy and my mind wasn't fully awake, I didn't inform him. Instead, I got out of bed, changed into a clean nightgown, and slowly made my way to the birthing room, stopping and moaning, panting with each contraction. I knew that there was everything that you need for birthing and I could then maybe get someone to help me out, like Charles or Adam. I was not sure what Salvatores were doing.
Shadow, feeling thirsty and craving blood as usual during pregnancy, noticed Mimi. Mimi was gripping the wall, emitting low moans and panting in between. Shadow instantly understood that Mimi was in the middle of giving birth and that it wouldn't be long before the first child arrived.
Shadow sprinted into the kitchen, urgently saying, "Mimi is giving birth in the corridor. She won't make it to the birthing room."
The seven Salvatores that were there making food for the babies and mothers, sprang into action, and the number two sharply communicated through his mind to Mariella and number one, who was engaged in a passionate fucking session, "Mimi is giving birth. She's about to have her first child. Just thought you should know."
Damon cursed under his breath, frustrated that what was supposed to be a magical moment had turned into an emergency. Suddenly, a flash of warning appeared on his radar, alerting him to the distress of the babies.
His urgency was palpable as he exclaimed, "We have to go. It's an emergency!"
Mariella, sensing the urgency in his voice, quickly gathered herself as they teleported into the birthing room. Mariella had witnessed no distress from the babies before and this was a scary situation for her, too.
Number two and number four were already in the room, supporting Mimi in between them, trying to get her to walk to the bed. Mimi was hanging on them and she was moaning in pain from contractions. She was sweaty, and a little distressed herself, too. Pack members were putting everything in place, opening packages, getting supplies, starting machines, and putting more lights on. Mariella went to assist where she could help, letting Damon focus on Mimi.
Damon hurried to her side and reassured her, "Don't worry, baby, the entire pack is here. Let's get you onto the bed and assess the situation. You have to hurry always and you just can't do it like others."
With gentle strength, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, informing the others about the distress of the first baby. He kept his expression neutral, taking the role of a doctor, not a husband.
As number two and number four rushed me into the birthing room, Damon's worried expression didn't escape my notice. Despite the pain, I couldn't help but wonder if something was wrong. He tried to keep himself composed, but as he started to act as a doctor, not as a husband, I knew that something was not right.
I felt the urge to push, but Damon cautioned me, "Don't push yet. Let me check a few things first."
Pack members and especially Salvatores were all over me. Monitors were quickly attached to my belly to monitor the babies' heartbeats. Someone took blood from my arm and someone placed a cannula in my central vein with efficiency and skill. I lay there, my legs in stirrups, as Damon prepared to examine me.
"This might hurt," he warned, his voice filled with concern, "but I need to gently insert my fingers and feel around."
I nodded, bracing myself for the pain. As he inserted his fingers, a wave of intense discomfort washed over me. The urge to push was almost overwhelming, but I fought against it, as someone murmured in my ear, urging me not to push.
Soon, number two joined number one between my legs, their expressions mirroring a mix of concentration and concern. They exchanged a glance, silently communicating with each other.
Number one spoke to me, his voice filled with reassurance, "Okay, baby, when we say push, push. But when we tell you not to push, stop. Everything will be fine, as long as you follow our lead."
I nodded, gathering all my strength, and pushed with all my might, feeling the baby moving inside me.
With each push, the pressure intensified, making me feel like I was about to burst. My contractions continued relentlessly, urging me to push, but no matter how hard I tried, the baby remained stuck.
Damon gently told me, "Baby, it's stuck. I need to use forceps to assist its delivery. Please don't push yet."
I nodded, my body drenched in sweat, exhausted, and now filled with fear. I had never experienced complications during childbirth like this before.
After a few agonizing moments, Damon returned with cold metal instruments in his hands. As he inserted them inside me, a sharp pain shot through my body, causing moans to escape my lips uncontrollably. With those metallic tools inside me, he instructed me to push while warning that he would pull at the same time, acknowledging that it wouldn't be pleasant, but necessary for the baby's safe arrival.
It was far from pleasant, but after a few attempts, the baby finally budged slightly, giving me a glimmer of hope. I pushed with all my might as he pulled, assisted by another pack member who used energy to help me push even more. It felt like an eternity, but eventually, I felt the baby's head emerge, followed by the rest of its tiny body. However, an eerie silence filled the room.
Numbers two and four swiftly took my baby, carrying it to another part of the room, urgently working on it. The silence was almost too much, and I was almost asking why my baby was not crying.
Meanwhile, number one reassured me, saying, "Don't worry, he's just exhausted and too tired to cry. He'll be fine. But Missy, the next one is coming, so you need to focus and push."
Although I couldn't do any more than hope for a cry, I had to gather the strength to push again. Despite Damon's assurances, the entire room seemed to hang on the anticipation of that cry. Minutes felt like hours until, finally, a weak sound escaped from my firstborn. It was weak, almost like mewl, but it was a sound coming from him, a sign that he was alive.
As I continued to push, relieved by my baby's faint cry, Damon's commanding voice interrupted, "Stop pushing again. You need to push only when I tell you."
I obeyed, giving him small pushes while feeling his fingers manipulating our child. He maintained a serious expression, and number two returned to assist, working together to deliver my second child, a girl. It took time for us to get her out too and there was something that they needed to do to her.
However, she too remained silent, and as number two carried her limp, bluish body to another area, I overheard him mention she had the cord wrapped tightly around her neck, hindering her proper breathing. I watched in dread as they administered oxygen to her. Damon's calm voice urged me to focus on the next child, assuring me that our daughter would be fine. But how could he truly know?
I had no choice but to carry on, my body pushed to its limits. The next birth was that of a boy, but it came with complications. He was enormous, requiring careful maneuvering to bring him into the world. They had to break my pelvis, creating space for him to come out, causing excruciating pain. I felt my body rupture, but as a supernatural being, I knew I would heal.
Amidst the chaos, my second child's cries brought relief, even though my own birthing experience was far from perfect. It seemed that somehow, a few of my children had grown so large that it was tricky to deliver them by natural birth, but then again, time was critical. This needed to happen and there was no time to start doing surgery.
With each birth, my heart grew colder as complications arose. There was a breach, there was one other cord wrapped around one baby's neck and it had gotten stuck, behind another baby, so it was difficult for them to manipulate babies inside me so the cord was not pinched fully closed.
It was a constant battle to keep myself from panicking and revealing the truth about what happened to my cubs. The worry squeezed my heart like never before, an unfamiliar sensation. Damon remained in control, taking on the role not as a husband, but as an obstetrician. His dream of a magical birth shattered, but he handled our realities brilliantly. it was just this situation that he had to be a doctor, not a husband.
My last two girls were born tiny, as if they had been waiting inside me, their strength fading. They didn't immediately grow to the size of normal babies, slipping out almost unnoticed. I was so tired, torn badly a few times, so I was numb from my pussy as Damon told me to push. I barely felt those tiny things coming out. It wasn't until I saw Number Four cradling one of the fragile creatures in his palms that I truly grasped their smallness.
They were tiny as premies, so fragile and small when number two hurried another one of them into the table where there were now number five and seven also assisting the babies. I could see that my five other babies were closely monitored still, pack members giving them oxygen or injection and they were so silent, only weak cries here and there, the hushed voices of pack members as they talked with each other were heard.
It had been one hell of a rough ride for me and my babies and I was so tired, yet I needed to stand up and walk to them. To touch them, talk to them. Damon assured me they would gain energy and grow in due time, their exhaustion from the arduous birth taking its toll.
I wanted to help them, to hold them, and let them feel my presence. The thought of them not sensing me was surely unsettling, as I had maintained a close connection throughout my pregnancy. I was trying to get up, but Charles and Adam came next to me, pressing me back to bed, murmuring to me to be still and rest. They did not let me get up to sit.
Damon, with a reassuring smile, said to me, "Baby, you need rest. We need to make sure you are okay. You have lost blood. Your pelvis has been broken twice, you are torn internally, and you are in no shape to move just yet."
He went to the medicine cabinet to prepare a cocktail for me. Charles and Adam both assured me that I needed rest, and they needed to ensure my well-being. After a while, when he had drawn very many medications into one syringe, Damon returned. He approached me, a syringe in hand, gently inserting it into my cannula.
As he pressed the plunger, he whispered, "Sleepy time, baby. Just rest. Everything will be okay when you wake up."
Darkness enveloped me, taking me into a peaceful slumber.
After the cocktail put Mimi to sleep, Damon sighed. He was tired, so worn out by worry over the babies and Mimi, and this had been an endless day. Birthing had taken a grueling 19 hours, and he had so many times thought of turning this into a cesarean, but then there had been always little progress, little thing that had made him carry on.
But Mimi was pale, tired. She had been so worried over those precious babies and her worry had flooded into his mind through their bond like the sun. He had to maintain his role as the doctor for the sake of their babies and he could not be the husband that she would have needed by her side.
But their babies would be fine. They would get intensive care for a day or two, what it took Mimi to heal and get her strength back and then they could be a perfect family. Of course, it was a few days before Mariella would have the due date, but he hoped that he would have a day or two to be with Mimi and their seven wonders. They were seven wonders of their world.
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