🐾 — labor and delivery, marlon jackson
marlon jackson x black!reader
summary :: you go into labor while your husband, marlon, is stuck at the studio with his brothers.
warnings :: contractions , labor , pain , not proofread / edited !
The afternoon sun seeped through the window, stretching across the hardwood floors as you waddled into the living room, one hand resting beneath your swollen belly, while the other held a laundry basket to your hip.
As you moved to sit on the couch, a tight squeeze pulled at your stomach.
Placing the basket down, you stood up straighter, hands moving to the small of your back as you closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths.
The feeling wasn't anything unusual, you'd had braxton hicks a couple times before.
Another one hit, harder this time.
Glancing up at the old clock that hung on your wall, your eyebrows pinched together. Two contractions in less than ten minutes.
Your heart began to race — it was happening.
You carefully turned yourself around, slowly shuffling back into the kitchen. Grabbing the house phone, you dialed the number to the studio.
Putting the phone to your ear, your other hand braced the edge of the counter as another contraction hit.
The dial rung all the way through before letting out a loud beep, signaling no one had picked up.
You tried again, three more times before accepting your fate. Dialing a different number, the first one that came to mind.
"Hello?" the voice on the other side of the line spoke as the dial clicked.
"Dede," you breathed heavily. "The baby is coming, Marlon isn't answering the phone. How fast can you get here?"
"I just dropped the boys off at school, I'll be there in a few minutes," Dede responded, her voice filled with ergency.
Letting out a loud whale of pain as another contraction hit, you dropped the phone, your hand coming down to cradle your stomach.
By the time Dede arrived at the house you were sitting on the floor, back pressed up against the cabinets trying to breathe.
"Come on, girl," she spoke, holding out her hands to help you up.
You shook your head as tears spilled down your face. "I have to wait for Marlon," you sniffled. "What if he calls back."
"Honey..." she trailed, gently placing a hand to your shoulder. "You don't have time to wait. I'll call him when we get to the hospital, I promise."
She eventually helped you off the floor and into the car.
As you arrived at the hospital, they immediately got you settled into a room, a nurse stepped inside every few minutes to check on you.
"My husband," you murmured, as the nurse stepped to your bedside to check your vitals. "I need my husband."
She grabbed ahold of your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.
"We got a hold of him, he's on his way," she assured with a warm smile, before stepping out of the room.
Fifteen minutes later he still hadn't arrived, the contractions had gotten worse, and your water had just broke.
Still, you refused to push until your husband was present.
The doctor stepped into the room, a sympathetic smile on his face as he pulled on a pair of gloves.
"Mrs. Jackson," he said gently. "I'm going to check your progress, is that okay?"
You gave him a weak nod, grasping onto Dede's hand who was still at your bedside.
You barely realize he had begun the examination until he pulled back his smile faded.
"You're fully dilated," he told. "Mrs. Jackson, you have to start pushing."
Tears welled in your eyes as you slowly shook your head. "I can't," you hiccuped. "I can't do it without him here."
From beside you, you felt Dede reach up, brushing the thick coils that stuck to your sweaty forehead, her other hand still holding yours as she tried to comfort you.
"You gotta start pushing, honey," She assured gently. "I'm right here with you."
Thirty minutes had passed, loud cries of an infant filled the hospital room.
The doctor carefully placed the baby, wrapped in a small blanket, onto your bare chest.
Tears streamed down your face as you wrapped your arms around her small body.
"Hi, sweetheart," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.
The nursed crowded around you to do a couple more test before leaving the three of you for a moment of privacy.
A few minutes later, your eyes darted to the door as it creaked open again, revealing your husband on the other side.
"I'm sorry," he voice broke as he stepped father into the room. "I'm so sorry, mama."
You reached for his hand.
"I missed it," he shook his head in disbelief. "We were so caught up, I didn't even hear the phone ring."
"I'll be out in the hallway," Dede mumbled, standing from the chair as she stepped out of the room, closing the door behind herself.
He took her place, sitting down in the leather chair, leaning over your bedside, his gaze flickering over the tiny figure of your daughter.
"Hey there..." he whispered, his eyes welling in tears.
One tiny hand escaped the wrap of the blanket, reaching out to curl around his finger.
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