Imagine you're an astronaut
Imagine you’re an astronaut, exploring the surface of Mars. You were sent to the Red planet with your husband and two other married couples. You collect rocks, perform tests, take readings.
The night before you’re set to leave the planet you and your husband make love. You’re in small quarters, with hardly any privacy. But how could the two of you not experience sex in low gravity? It feels wonderful, free to try positions that would have been more difficult in Earth gravity.
The six of you depart the planet, taking your lander back up to the space ship that will take you back to Earth. Then all of you go into cryogenic stasis for the next 9 months as you all head home.
9 months later, the ship enters Earth orbit. The ship’s systems signal the cryogenic chambers to defrost, awakening the crew. Consciousness comes slowly. It’s like waking from the deepest, best sleep you’ve ever had. But it is a bit disorienting.
As your senses kick in you realize your tube feels more cramped than it did before. Somehow your stomach is brushing against the top of the tube. Weakly you move your hand to feel your stomach.
That’s when you realize you’re pregnant. 9 months by the feel. You must have been impregnated that last night on Mars, and have been growing all the while you were asleep.
You’re angry and afraid. You never wanted children; you’re an astronaut and they would be inconvenient. But now you have no choice. You rub your massive stomach in horror, realizing you’re so big it might even be twins. Your shirt won’t even cover your belly, the hem of it bunched up below your engorged breasts.
This is a nightmare. How are you supposed to get back to Earth like this?
Your husband comes over to your tube, opening it up. He stares at your belly in shock. Wanly you smile and say “surprise”, trying to make light of the horror you feel. He reaches out to your belly, rubbing it. A flurry of kicks from inside of you greet his hand. The feeling is strange and disconcerting.
The other astronauts stumble out of their tubes, looking at your stomach in surprise. One meakly says “congratulations”. But they’re all worried about you getting through landing.
The crew gets to work prepping for your return to Earth. Per regulations you are all supposed to get in your space suits for landing, in case of a hull breach. But you will never fit now. You put the pants on, your heavy belly sitting just above the hem. You will never get the torso piece on. You just have to hope for a clean landing.
All of you enter the landing capsule, the others helping you in. Moving around in zero-G is difficult enough on its own, but in your massive and awkward state it’s almost impossible.
You buckle yourself in. The belt cuts the skin below your belly, too tight, not made for your new size. The top of it cuts across your sensitive breasts. It’s very uncomfortable, and about to get worse.
You’re pretty much useless to the others in your state, as they run over the checklist. You realize you never radioed Control about your situation, but in your shame convince yourself there’s no point. What could they even do?
The landing capsule disengages from the ship, thrusters firing to put it in Earth’s orbit. You will circle the planet once until you’re in the right position and angle to drop into the Atlantic ocean.
The orbit makes you nauseous, and the thrusters firing again for descent makes it even worse. You and the rest of the crew are hit by several G’s worth of force as the lander makes it’s descent. You feel impossibly heavy, ready to throw up, too hot as the heat shield on the hull starts to flare.
You’re falling, accelerating quickly. As you feel the force of descent you’re dimly aware of fluid running down your legs. The G force has broken your water.
The parachute opens, and there’s a sickening moment as the capsule briefly moves upward then starts to fall again, much slower. The lander crashes onto the surface of the ocean as your contractions start.
The crew all undo their seat belts, as you await the rescue boat that will take you back home. But your seat belt, always too tight, won’t come undone.
You start to panic as you moan through a contraction, feeling the heavy weight on your cervix and realizing you will have to push soon. You’re panicked as you try to undo the belt, moaning in terrible pain.
Your husband tries to get the belt undone, but it’s stuck. You beg him to help you, so unbelievably scared, as the lander rocks back and forth over the waves.
Contractions are hard and fast, almost overlapping. This is happening way to fast, thanks to the force of the landing. Your husband is trying to pull the belt off, with the help of other crew members, but it’s stuck. One tries to find some kind of tool to cut it off.
The moment comes, and you feel the need to bear down. But the belt, still digging into your skin, is impeding the baby from moving down your birth canal. You fight the need to push, tears running down your face, body shaking.
Your husband is still tugging at the belt, and you start begging him to get it off. The need to push is too great; you’re not going to be able to hold off much longer.
Another crewmember finds some heavy shears and starts trying to cut the fabric of the belt, the metal cold against the hot skin of your stomach. You moan through another contraction, in desperate pain. It takes a while to cut through the thick fabric, as you huff and puff through the pain.
She gets the belt under your stomach cut off, but you still have the belt across your chest. Your stomach is freed but you are still stuck sitting upright, not in a position to push. You beg get to hurry, as your children kick violently from within.
She finally gets the top belt. You collapse onto the floor, and push immediately. The first baby shoots through your canal, until you are almost crowning. Then you feel water at your ankles. Sea water has started to spill into the capsule.
Just then the rescue boat arrives to collect you and the crew. You moan and rub your stomach, knowing you need to get onto the boat before you can birth, that the capsule is sinking. But you have no idea how you’ll move with a baby’s head between your legs.
Your husband and another astronaut both lift you up into the air, until you are standing. But you cannot stand unsupported, so they frog-walk you to the open door of the capsule.
The glare of sunlight hurts your eyes. You look up at the boat. There’s a ladder you will have to go up until you’re on the deck. You have no idea how you’ll make it in this state.
Your husband goes up the ladder before you, the other crewmember holding you up. Then she gently guides you to the ladder. You grab hold of rungs above your head, as you fight the urge to push more. She encourages you to climb up.
Even if you weren’t in labor this wouldn’t be easy. Your belly is quite in the way, and your muscles are weak from the cryogenic sleep. You try to pull yourself up, legs awkwardly far apart because of the head. Your husband grabs your arms from above and tries to pull you up, as the crew below push you upward.
Slowly, breathing deeply, you move up the ladder. This is the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life, way harder than anything you had to do on Mars. Tears are still going down your face, and you’re still fighting the need to push. But eventually you get up to the point your husband can properly grab you and pull you onto the boat.
You collapse onto the deck, right then and there, unable to move forward any further. You give in to your body and push, the head bursting out, but getting stuck in the crotch of your space suit. You shout at your husband to pull the legs off. He tries to get them off, but they are in securely.
The rest of the crew scramble onto the ship, and help pull the legs off. Then your husband gets your panties off, and you then and there give birth to your first child. The crew of the rescue ship watch in shock, utterly unprepared for an astronaut to birth in front of them.
At this point you’re absolutely exhausted, and ready to pass out. But kicking from within your stomach only confirms that there’s indeed another in there. You sob in pain, fear and fatigue, as contractions renew and you feel the need to push out the twin.
Ten minutes later you’re holding both of your children, the first children born who were conceived on another planet, as exhaustion takes over you finally and you pass out.
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