labor hurts
contents: reader is nine months pregnant and insists on doing a lot of labor around the house even when ellie has already done everything. after a fight about labor, she gets into labor. plus: idk how to write a heated argument im sorry and guess what I never gave birth so idk how it works
You get home humming a song while carrying the grocery bags. You took advantage of Ellie's absence to do things yourself, you're tired of being treated like a porcelain doll just because you're pregnant.
As soon as you close the door behind you with your feet and look in front of you, you hear your wife cleaning her throat.
Fuck you.
“I thought the doctor and I made it clear that in the last weeks of our pregnancy, you should stay at home and rest,” she begins, holding her temples with eyes closed, like she's doing her best not to scream at you.
And she's not wrong. It's probably the hundredth time you have this conversation; she wants you to stay at home and rest, but you think that being pregnant doesn't mean you need to rest all the time. Even if that's doctor's orders since the last weeks of your pregnancy are considered risky.
“So when I got home and didn't see my wife, I thought something had happened to her. So the first thing I do is call her to ask if she's at the hospital. But imagine my surprise when I heard her phone ringing right here” she holds your phone up.
You press your lips in a thin line when she gets up and takes the bags from your hands, turning away from you and silently walking to the kitchen.
“I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to worry you” you say following her to the kitchen. You can see she's holding herself back not to scream her lungs out at you.
“I just don't understand what's your fucking problem with following orders” she speaks lowly, taking the groceries from the bags and putting them on the counter “You know how dangerous it is for you to walk around alone nine months pregnant?”
You stay silent, avoiding her gaze.
“Leaving alone how much labour you’re doing around the house. Cleaning things I already cleaned? Waking up in the middle of the night to do the chores because you created a stupid competition in your head? You think I haven’t noticed? I’m your fucking wife!”
You roll your eyes at her. Roll them so hard it almost feels like they are going to stay stuck in the back of your head. The pregnancy hormones turned you into a brat, and Ellie was doing her best to walk past it, but you were making it harder everyday.
“Yeah, whatever” you murmur, reaching for the groceries on the counter to put them in their designated places.
Ellie stops what she’s doing and holds tight on the border of the counter, letting her head hang low while she rethinks all she just said and what you’re already doing.
And for the first time in your relationship, she screams at you. She screams your name, voice tight, holding back not to lose her temper.
“Are you listening to what I’m saying?”
“Yeah. I said: whatever.”
She calls your name again, warning in her tone.
“What, Ellie? I said whatever! I’m not dead, I’m just pregnant. You keep talking bullshit like a pussy.”
Her mouth opens in shock.
“Excuse me, what?”
You roll your eyes again. You’re acting like the mean girls from Ellie’s high school.
“Are you def now?”
“That’s it. I’m going for a walk.”
And as an answer, you roll your eyes again.
You hear the door slamming closed and just put a strand of hair behind your ear before starting to put the groceries in its place, ignoring all of Ellie’s previous talking.
“Are you listening to what I'm saying y/n? You need to obey me and lay down all fucking day like you're dying” you mock lowly, mimicking her voice and opening the cabinets doors.
You stop in your tracks, surprised by your own petulance.
“Fuck. I am being a ungrateful brat”
But it doesn't matter right now because Ellie already lost her temper and you don't want to get her more stressed by going after her. She needs some alone time to deal with your last-weeks-of-pregnancy hormones.
As you get down to reach the floor cabinets, something in the air changes, and before you can start thinking about it, you feel a liquid running down your legs.
Did you just piss yourself?
The question is followed by a deep pain in your stomach. Contractions.
“Oh no”
The pain isn't excruciating yet, but you're so anxious and nervous that you don't have time to think. You run to the baby's room, taking care not to slip into the liquid still leaving your body.
You grab the baby's bag and yours as well, and because you're still a little mad at Ellie and still a brat with a big ego, you don't call her; you get into your car and drive to the hospital.
Or maybe you just forgot to call her. We'll never know.
When Ellie gets home, she calls your name. Voice now calm and sweet, searching for you so she can calmly put some sense into your pretty head.
She slips in your amniotic fluid and reaches the ground with a loud thud of her butt.
“What the hell-” she smells the watery fluid now in her fingers and scrunches her face at the faintly sweet smell.
It takes a few seconds for it to click on her head, but when it does, she goes running around the house calling your name and searching for you. When she doesn't find you, she goes to the baby's room to see if their bag is still there, but to her surprise, it's not.
Oh good. Her wife went to labor without her. Great.
Before she even thinks about calling you, she sees your phone still on the counter.
Her phone rings, her hands are still wet from your weird fluid but she manages to answer the call.
“Hello, I'm speaking from the Saint Abigail Hospital. Your wife gave me your phone number Mrs. Williams, I'm calling to let you know that your child will be “leaving her uterus in a couple of minutes” she said with these exact words. She also said she loves you and that if you don't get here in time, she'll kill you”
Ellie runs to the hospital, ignoring her sticky hands and the red lights. Her little girl is about to be born, nothing else matters.
When she gets there, she gives your name to the first nurse she sees and explains the situation. The nurse instantly guides her to your room.
Her eyes find yours in the middle of a wave of pain, and you curse under your breath before opening your arms and waiting for her to hug you while still sitting in the yoga ball.
“Baby I'm so sorry for being a bitch these past days and-” she cuts you mid sentence.
“Honey I love you no matter what, even when you're a bitch. But I think right now we should focus on the thing leaving your uterus.”
And with a wet kiss on your head from your lover's lips, you scream in pain.
“Oh my god baby, what do you want me to do? How can I help you?” your wife panics, still speaking when a doctor comes by and guides you to the bed.
“Get me unpregnant, honey. That's the best you can do to me.”
guys she didn't say get me unpregnant in a rude or mean way, it was more like please take our child out of me bc it hurts too much
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