Been on Tumblr for six months as of two days ago. I figure if I mainly reblog then my actual posts are going to get somewhat crowded. This is also for the ————–——— (hello, you lovely) people who follow me. Maybe I’m just random enough to keep a slight eye on or we share similar weird thought processes. Roleplay-wise, I do it lightly in the “got isekai’d to Legends” and currently am traveling the many timelines.
Sometimes I visit other universes confusing many people along the way. Have to be careful so no one recreates Pokemon in the non-pokemon ones. Timelines share very similar elements while universes have different settings like Fallout compared to Minecraft. I do happen to like a variety of fandoms so you will see more on my blog. —NSFW is not something I will do here EVER. No problem if other people write/post/blog about it, I just don’t personally. Gore, Yandere, Smut, Kinks. Please be aware I will avoid discussing where everyone can see.—
I enjoy writing snippets, headcanons, and theories for fandoms. Always down to discuss in my free time so if you want to chat let's chat.
Masterlists; Posts First List, Writing Prompts,
I’ve been thinking about taking Requests to practice my writing. I allow Anons, so go crazy.
Fandoms I like: Pokémon, Pokémon Anime, Digimon, Danny Phantom, DC (Mainly Batman), Marvel (Mainly Avengers), Kung Fu Panda, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, The Owl House, Black Butler, Sonic, Mario, Pac-Man and the Ghostly Adventures, HTTYD, Sea Beasts, Cuphead, The Willoughbys, Encanto, Turning Red, Luca, Zootopia, Epic (2013), Spyro, Wolfwalkers, Megamind, 9 (2009), A:TLA, TLoK, MLP: FiM, Over the Moon, Vivo, The Mitchells vs the Machines, Hotel Transylvania, Minions, Despicable Me, The Bad Guys, Lilo and Stitch, Ninjago, Naruto, Johnny Test, The Croods, Cloudy with a chance of Meatballs, Scooby-Doo, Animal Crossing, Minecraft, Big Hero 6, Hero 108, Ben 10, FNAF, Adventure Time, Hello Puppets! + Midnight Show.
*And many more fandoms are on this list, I’ve watched or played most of these personally.
Polls: What do you like most about Tumblr in general? X | If a worker drone’s head was intact, could they be restored? X | Which OC should I make a debut post about first? X | Can a Worker Drone have yellow eyes? X | Should I perfect every entry I possibly can before proceeding? X
I’m looking to have a little fun and encourage myself to make more content for you, my Dear Readers! To that end, every Wednesday morning I’m going to open submissions for The Gospel Truth, a new in-character advice column wherein your characters’ questions and queries can find honest answers from an honest paladin!
How to Participate
1.) Submit an in-character ask for an ongoing concern of your character using the ASK box. You may mark yourself anonymous for the fun factor if you wish, but it’s not required.
2.) Be sure to sign your letter with a “handle” that Miss Gospel can respond to. (Think of the “Dear Abby” and “Miss Manners” columns.)
3.) I’ll work on replies and schedule them through the days ahead as I get them!
Out-of-character submissions will be ignored and deleted! This is just for a bit of light roleplay fun and shenanigans. That said -- the ask box is open!
I'm back with another birth story for my original characters, Carolyn and Rebecca. This time Rebecca carried their babies, and they used Maxwell's sperm again. For this pregnancy, they did not find out the sexes of their babies, and they will end up at a birth center with their midwife, Martha, and her assistant daughter, Isabel.
Thank you for all of the love on my last story! It means the world to me.
Enjoy!
“Yes, Rebecca, roar your baby out!”
Isabel’s voice rang with vibrant encouragement, cutting through the charged hush of the Pembroke Creek Birth Center. The room, sealed away from the storm outside, shimmered in warm, golden lamplight. Rain hammered the windows—a primal drumbeat that mimicked the turmoil inside Rebecca’s body. She was sprawled on the birthing suite floor, sweat-soaked wisps of hair stuck to her brow, breath jagged and shallow. Carolyn, her anchor, pressed her fists into her lower back. Martha knelt at her side, radiating calm expertise, while Isabel hovered just behind, clutching towels and ready to spring into action. The air pulsed with anticipation and lavender oil. Thunder rumbled. Rebecca’s senses tunneled: the ache in her hips, the salty sting of sweat in her eyes, the rough press of Carolyn’s knuckles—her whole world was reduced to the next contraction, a narrow, flickering tunnel of pain, fear, and hope.
But this journey had started long before the storm. Two days earlier, Rebecca had woken in their London townhouse to a dull ache in her back, a familiar discomfort she’d brushed off as another round of Braxton Hicks. Later, as she and Carolyn shared tea in the kitchen, she winced through a sharper pain.
“Just practice contractions,” she said, attempting a smile.
Carolyn watched her. “Are you sure? They seem close together.”
Rebecca shrugged, determined to distract herself by folding baby clothes. Their three-year-old daughter, Felicity, was already away for the weekend with Maxwell—one less worry.
The day wore on. As evening fell and rain began to patter against the tall windows, the cramps grew insistent, stretching into her back and hips. By midnight, Rebecca was bent over the living room couch, breath hissing between her teeth.
“Why don’t you get into the pool for a bit,” Carolyn suggested, her voice soft but urgent. She darted between the kitchen and living room, setting up the pool, draping towels, and glancing anxiously at Rebecca every few minutes.
By 3 AM, after fifteen torturous hours, Rebecca was on her knees on the faded living room rug, her body trembling with each contraction. The birth pool, once a symbol of relief, sat unused and cooling in the corner. Her breath came in desperate, ragged sobs.
“I can’t do this anymore, Carolyn! I can’t!” she gasped, clutching her wife’s hand so tightly her knuckles blanched.
Carolyn dropped to her knees, brushing damp hair from Rebecca’s brow. “You can. You’re doing incredible, sweetheart.” She rubbed her back now. “You’ve done this for so long. Maybe it’s time we go to the center.”
Carolyn quickly called their midwife, speaking to her about Rebecca’s progress. “Alright, she said she’s going to meet us.” She bent down, helping her wife to stand. “Let’s get you up, love. The sooner we get you there, the sooner this will be over.”
The drive was a fever dream of waterlogged streets and wind-lashed trees. Rebecca curled into the passenger seat, sitting on a pile of towels, eyes squeezed shut, and groaning through every contraction. Her water had yet to break, and Carolyn knew they needed to be prepared in case it happened on their journey to the center.
She gripped the steering wheel, her voice low as she muttered reassurances. “We’re almost there. Not much longer.”
When they finally pulled up around 5 AM, Martha stood at the door, her face creased with concern but welcoming. Isabel, her daughter, hovered beside her, clutching a stack of fresh towels. The earthy, warmly lit sanctuary was a balm after the chaos outside.
Martha wrapped Rebecca in a hug. “Let’s get you settled.”
The next seven hours blurred into cycles of pain and hope, time warping and stretching. Rebecca tried every position Martha suggested—rocking on the birthing ball, swaying in the hot shower, kneeling on the bed, even pacing the hallway with Carolyn’s arm cinched around her waist. Between contractions, she collapsed into her wife’s lap, eyes squeezed shut, the world reduced to the pain and the sound of her own breath. Tears came in hot, silent streams, mixing with sweat.
Martha’s calm voice grounded Rebecca: “Breathe. Let your body do the work.”
Isabel, next to her, encouraged, “You’ve got this. Just keep breathing.”
Suddenly, Rebecca felt an intense pressure building, sharper and deeper than before. Then, with a gasp, she felt a warm gush between her legs: the unmistakable release of her waters breaking. A rush of fluid soaked the towel beneath her, startling her mid-contraction.
“Oh, yes!” Rebecca cried out, half in surprise, half in relief. “Finally!”
Martha glanced over with a reassuring nod, checking to make sure the fluid was clear. “You’re making real progress now.”
Carolyn squeezed Rebecca’s hand. “You’re one step closer. You’re doing so amazing, Becca.”
Rebecca’s heart pounded, both anxiously and excitedly—her labor had shifted, and the promise of meeting her babies suddenly felt closer than ever.
Carolyn pressed water to Rebecca’s lips, squeezed her hips, and wiped her brow. The four women moved together, a quiet, determined team, as the storm outside finally softened into dawn. Then, as the sun finally broke through the clouds outside, casting a watery grey glow into the room, Martha’s calm demeanor shifted. She had been checking Rebecca’s progress, her brow furrowing slightly.
“Rebecca, honey, I need you to listen. Baby A is breech. The bum is going to come out first.”
A cold dread seized Rebecca, momentarily eclipsing the pain. Breech. She knew enough to know that meant complications.
Carolyn’s hand instantly found hers, squeezing tightly. “Is it dangerous?”
“It can be if the baby takes too long to come out. But it’s alright. We can do this,” Martha said, locking eyes with Rebecca. “This is completely safe. Women have been delivering breech babies for hundreds of years. I’ve brought many of them into the world myself.” She squeezed Rebecca’s hand, her tone reassuring but brisk as she continued, “Let’s get you into a squat. It’ll open your pelvis and bring the baby down.
With Carolyn and Isabel’s support, Rebecca shifted into a squat, knees shaking, back aching. The urge to push became overwhelming—a force of nature she could not resist. Martha knelt in front, ready to catch.
Rebecca squeezed Carolyn’s hand, her body trembling with anticipation and fear. Sweat trickled down her spine and thighs, and every muscle felt stretched to the brink. The pressure in her pelvis was immense, a hot, heavy force that left her breathless.
Carolyn rubbed her arm. “I’m right here. You’ve got this.”
Rebecca’s thoughts spun between panic and determination. She felt the eyes of everyone in the room on her, their hope and worry pressing in. For several contractions, she rocked and moaned, her legs burning, the contractions coming in waves so strong she could barely stay upright. She gave careful, small pushes as the baby slowly made its descent.
“Okay, Rebecca, this is it,” Martha said to her. “Big push. Give me everything you’ve got!”
Rebecca bore down, a guttural roar tearing from her throat.
“Yes, Rebecca, roar your baby out!” Isabel implored her.
The pressure was indescribable. Rebecca felt herself stretched and remade with every push, her body straining as if she were splitting apart. She gripped Carolyn’s hand, her knuckles white, and let out a long, guttural moan. The pain was sharp and deep, radiating through her hips and up her spine. Sweat poured off her face, and she gasped for air between pushes, desperate for relief.
Martha encouraged her: “That’s it, Rebecca. I can see a little bum. Keep going, just like that.”
Rebecca pushed again, every muscle trembling, her thighs shaking, her mind blank with effort.
Carolyn stroked her fingers along the back of her neck, supporting her from behind now. “You’re a goddess, Becca.”
“The bottom is out! We’re nearly there, Rebecca!” Isabel’s excitement, one of her usual calm, was replaced by a note of awe.
After what felt like an eternity of pushing, Rebecca finally felt a sudden, slippery release. A tiny leg and then the other. Martha gently guided the baby, her hands steady. Rebecca gasped and sobbed, her body wracked with exhaustion.
“Excellent, Rebecca. Baby will be out on the next one,” Martha urged. “But first rest. I’m going to let Baby dangle so gravity can help and you don’t have to work as hard.”
In a few short minutes, Rebecca began to whimper as another pain started. She closed her eyes and bore down with everything she had left, her roar echoing in the room. With a desperate surge, the rest of the baby slid out into Martha’s waiting hands. A cry, thin and reedy but unmistakably present, filled the room. Relief washed over Rebecca; she slumped back into Carolyn’s arms, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“You did it! You really did it, my love!”
“It’s a boy!” Martha announced as she carefully placed the wailing infant on Rebecca’s chest. He was blue-tinged but quickly pinking up, his little fists waving.
Rebecca drew her son to her chest, and Carolyn wrapped her arms around them both, pressing kisses to her temple. They stared in awe at the tiny infant on Rebecca’s chest, his cries growing louder as he wriggled and rooted for warmth.
“He’s precious,” Carolyn whispered, admiring the baby’s dark hair clinging to his head.
“He’s perfect,” Rebecca murmured, taking in every feature of his face. But soon, she was whimpering again. Another contraction was already mounting, sharper and more insistent. The exhaustion from the first birth lingered, but a new urgency pressed in, and she grunted as she pushed.
After pushing in that position for fifteen minutes with no movement, Martha spoke up.
"Okay, love, let’s get you onto your hands and knees. This will give Baby more space, too."
Isabel took the baby, moving out of the way to check him over.
Rebecca nodded, her limbs feeling heavy and shaky. Carolyn helped her stand, steadying her as she climbed onto the bed and positioned herself on her hands and knees. Rebecca’s mind blurred, her body aching, but the determination to meet her second baby carried her forward. The minutes stretched into what felt like hours as she pushed again, each contraction a monumental effort. Sweat dripped onto the sheets, her arms trembling from fatigue. The pressure was different this time—sharper, deeper, lodged behind her pelvis.
Carolyn stretched out beside her, holding her hand and whispering encouragement. “You can do this, sweetheart. You’ve done this once before. I’m right here.”
Isabel rejoined them, placing their bundled newborn son in the bassinet until his mothers were ready for him. She positioned herself at the edge of the bed next to Martha, whose eyes were on the emerging baby as Rebecca continued to push.
“There we go,” Martha said. “Easy does it. Baby’s moving, but slowly. Catch your breath between pushes.”
Rebecca pushed through another eternity, the minutes blurring. The room shrank to a cocoon of effort and pain: her own ragged breathing, Carolyn’s murmured words, Martha’s gentle instructions. This baby wasn’t coming easily, and panic threatened to overwhelm her.
Carolyn leaned close to her ear, whispering, “The baby’s almost here, and then you’re done.”
Rebecca pushed, letting out a long, agonizing scream as the baby’s head fully crowned.
"Head's out!” Isabel exclaimed, grabbing a fresh towel, ready to catch the baby.
But Martha’s sharp tone followed immediately after. “There’s a shoulder stuck. Rebecca, I need one big push, as hard as you can.”
Rebecca’s heart raced. She could feel the baby’s shoulder wedged behind her pelvis, and the burning, tearing sensation intensified. Isabel and Martha shifted her slightly, raising one knee and tilting her hips to open her pelvis.
Carolyn’s hand was on her back, rubbing soothing circles, her voice urgent but gentle. “Push, love! Push with everything you have!”
Rebecca closed her eyes and bore down with what little strength she had left. Another roar tumbled from her lips, filling the room, primal and desperate.
“Yes, Rebecca, yes!” Isabel cheered.
The pressure increased, then suddenly released. Martha and Isabel guided the baby’s shoulder free, and with a slippery rush, the second twin—a girl—finally emerged, her fierce wail echoing through the room.
Rebecca collapsed onto the mattress, sobbing as Caroyln praised her. After a moment, she rolled over and saw Martha holding the squirming baby out to her. Rebecca drew her daughter to her chest as tears spilled down her cheeks as she gazed at the child—tiny, pink, and absolutely furious.
“Someone’s not too happy about being out in the world,” Carolyn said with a laugh, kissing Rebecca’s shoulder.
Rebecca chuckled. “No, she’s not. She made it incredibly difficult.”
She looked down at her daughter and let out a breathy sigh. The pain receded into a tidal wave of joy and bone-deep exhaustion. This second birth had wrung her dry, but she felt buoyed by love filling the room.
The storm outside quieted down as they lay tangled together on the bed, both twins pressed now against Rebecca’s chest, the room washed in soft morning light.
“They’re beautiful,” Carolyn said, brushing a kiss to Rebecca’s temple. “Our little warriors.”
Rebecca smiled and looked down at the babies. “I can’t believe we have a boy and a girl. I for sure thought we’d have two boys or two girls.”
“I thought they were both girls just based on the way you were carrying them.”
“Instead, we got one of each!”
“That’ll be better for Fliss, I think,” Carolyn stated. “That way, if she doesn’t like one, she has no excuse not to like the other.”
Rebecca howled with laughter, then winced in pain. “She has to love both of them; she doesn’t have a choice.”
“Yes, she must absolutely do what Mummy says,” Carolyn agreed with a chuckle.
“I can’t wait for her to meet them,” Rebecca mused, thinking of their three-year-old meeting her baby brother and sister.
“Me too,” Carolyn agreed, leaning her head against her wife’s, the babies cooing sweetly.
Martha and Isabel quietly worked to clean up their supplies, and a few hours later, Rebecca and Carolyn were released from the center with their newborn twins, allowed to go home and begin their reality as a family of five.
“Lean on me. I’m right here; I’m not going anywhere,” Julia murmured against her wife’s temple.
Hilary was kneeling on the ground in their home, grunting as a contraction tore through her, and leaning against her wife for support. She breathed through the contraction, matching Julia’s breaths, hearing her whisper sweet words of encouragement into her ear. Hilary had been laboring for nearly 26 hours now, the first pains having started in the early morning hours a week before her due date. With twins on the way, Hilary and Julia were becoming mothers for the first time.
Married for three years, their fertility journey had been emotional. Hope and uncertainty layered the process of finding a donor, and the choice of who would carry the baby was both practical and deeply personal. After extensive conversations and medical checks, Julia gently encouraged Hilary to carry first, knowing how much she’d dreamt of experiencing pregnancy. As a child, she had imagined her arms cradling her own baby, but Julia’s doctor recommended she undergo hormone therapy for a year before trying to get pregnant herself. Their initial IVF attempt was met with disappointment, and Julia began her hormone regimen, her hope quietly bruised. Then, just a month later, Hilary appeared in the kitchen, hands trembling as she held out a positive pregnancy test.
They were both elated at the news, but Julia’s happiness was laced with a quiet ache—one she tried to keep hidden. She wanted Hilary to savor those early days of pregnancy, their secret held close between them and Christopher, Hilary’s college friend who’d become their donor. Christopher’s offer had been immediate and generous, and after some hesitation, they embraced his gift and dove into preparations, but their first pregnancy ended in heartbreak at 10 weeks. From that moment, Julia suggested not telling anyone if they got another chance. When Hilary eventually became pregnant again, the joy was accompanied by a fresh wave of Julia’s jealousy—a feeling she struggled to admit, even to herself.
Thankfully, Hilary sensed Julia’s unease. One evening, curled together on the couch, Julia finally let the words tumble out. She confessed her fears: that she felt like a bystander, that she worried she’d always be on the outside looking in. Hilary squeezed her hand, her voice steady with promise. She’d make sure to keep Julia as involved as possible, and when the time came for Julia to carry, she’d let her savor every step, every flutter, every ache. For now, this was their journey, together.
When the ultrasound revealed twins, the world seemed to tilt. Hilary’s past miscarriage made things feel even more precarious, and the knowledge that she was now carrying multiples set anxiety humming beneath every moment. Still, at 28 and in good health, Hilary tried to trust her body. The first trimester crawled by, each day a quiet test of hope. After a reassuring 15-week appointment—and after deciding to keep the babies’ sexes a surprise—they finally shared the news with their families.
One night after dinner, Christopher snapped photos as they handed their mothers gifts of a dainty gold bracelet with two pearls on the chain, and their fathers engraved drink coasters that said, “Make it a double.” At the same time, Hilary unzipped her jacket to reveal a graphic t-shirt that read, “There are two peas in this pod!” with a smiling pea pod on the belly. The room erupted in joy as all four grandparents jumped up, and Julia and Hilary were pulled into a group hug that was filled with tears, shouts of excitement, and laughter. Then both mothers immediately started hovering over Hilary, forcing her to sit and rest as they waited on her hand and foot.
It was a while longer before they told their friends. They waited until Hilary was well past the 20-week mark—her belly unmistakably round, the secret impossible to hide. When they finally shared the news, their friends showered them with love. There were squeals and tears, handmade cards, and offers to help assemble cribs and paint the nursery walls. Plans for a baby shower began almost immediately, and their home buzzed with visits and excitement. The steady stream of support made the wait feel worthwhile, filling their home with warmth and anticipation for the twins’ arrival. That warmth and anticipation carried them through the final weeks, even as anxiety built.
Now, the nursery was ready, and the waiting had given way to the reality of labor. Julia kneeled next to Hilary, her heart pounding in time with each of her wife’s contractions. She brushed sweat-soaked brown hair from Hilary’s brow, her own voice trembling. “You’re almost there, love. We’re getting so much closer to meeting them.”
Hilary sobbed as the contraction reached its peak, her grip on Julia’s arm desperate. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” she choked out, her voice raw with exhaustion. For a split second, the room spun. Was this the moment she’d break?
It was then her midwife intervened. “I think I should check you, my dear. It’s been a while since I last did. You’ve got to be further along now." The older woman was crouched on the other side of her. “Let me know when your wave has passed.”
Hilary nodded with her eyes closed, and then a moment later, the contraction eased. “Okay,” she blew out a breath. “It’s over.”
“Right,” the midwife said. “Help me lift her, Julia, and bring her to the couch.”
Julia put one arm around Hilary’s waist as the midwife took her other side, and they helped her to the couch. She lay back against a small mound of pillows and rested her hands on top of her belly.
“Lift your knees, dear,” the midwife instructed.
Hilary did as she was told, and Julia knelt beside her, taking one of her hands.
The old woman sat on the couch at her feet, a pair of medical gloves on her hands. “I’m going to check you now,” she informed Hilary with one hand on her thigh. “Are you ready?”
Hilary nodded silently again, hissing a bit when the midwife’s fingers were inserted into her cervix. She grimaced as the old woman’s fingers gauged her progress, and she turned her face towards Julia, locking her eyes with hers.
“It’s okay,” Julia told her, lifting her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles.
“Well, I’m sorry to say, but you’re only 6 centimeters dilated.”
“No!” Hilary cried, clutching onto Julia with both hands.
“I know, Hilary. I am so sorry, but you’re doing so well.” The woman stated, removing her gloves and reaching for her portable heart monitor in her bag. “I need to listen to the babies now.”
“Is there something you can do for her to speed things along?” Julia asked as she watched the woman turn on the machine. They had done everything Julia thought possible at this point. Surely there had to be something else?
“I’m afraid not. What she’s been doing are all the things I would suggest for anyone. But I can give her something to help her rest, something to help her body relax so she can progress.” She looked between Hilary and Julia. “That’s the best I can offer for now. Of course, she’s always welcome to get back in the tub, but I think, more than anything, she needs rest. She’s starting to fight the waves, and that will only prolong this further.”
Julia nodded. “What do you want to do, honey?”
“I want to sleep,” Hilary whined. “And I want my mom.”
“Are you sure?” Julia asked, wanting to be certain. They had discussed having their moms in the room but ultimately decided against it. Instead, their mothers would be staying at their hotel, waiting to hear word that their grandbabies had been born. But days ago, Hilary had made her promise that if she got to a point where she felt she could no longer labor, Julia was allowed to call her mom. “You want me to call her?”
“Please,” Hilary sobbed.
“Alright,” Julia nodded, reluctantly letting go of her hand and standing to grab her phone while the midwife listened to the babies.
While Julia called Hilary’s mother, she heard the midwife declare, “Both babies sound great. No one is in distress, so there’s no reason why you can’t continue laboring here.”
“Thank you,” Hilary replied quietly.
A few minutes later, Julia ended the call. “Your mom will be here soon, love, but she wants you to rest.”
The midwife was giving Hilary a sedative now as Julia went back to the couch, kneeling beside her again and taking her hand. Within just a few moments, Hilary was asleep. Julia stayed by her side until her mother, Joanne, arrived and then relinquished her hand, letting her mother-in-law take her place.
“You need rest too, sweetheart. You’ll be no help if you’re exhausted as well.”
Julia nodded but stayed standing next to the couch for a moment, debating if she should really go.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got her,” Joanne told her.
Finally, Julia gave in and went to their bedroom, where she curled up on the mattress and fell asleep. A few hours later, a scream woke her. She jumped out of bed and rushed into the living room, where she found her wife squatting on the floor, her mother next to her.
“It’s time,” the midwife announced. “She can start pushing.”
Julia went to her wife, gently rubbing her back. “Did you hear that, honey? It’s time to meet our babies.”
“Fucking finally!” Hilary exclaimed. “I’m so ready to be done.”
Before Julia could reply, a groan rumbled from Hilary’s chest, and she emitted a deep growl as she began to bear down.
Julia’s eyes filled with tears as she watched her wife, hating to see her in pain but thrilled at the prospect that they were about to meet their first twin.
The midwife kept a watchful eye on Hilary from a distance, having agreed to help only if the situation called for it.
Hilary’s world shrank with each push. She grunted through the pain, collapsing against Julia’s shoulder as the contraction faded. Joanne’s warm arm grounded her from the other side. The next wave built, and Hilary cried out, the sound half anguish, half hope, as she bore down again.
“Come on, baby. Come on,” she urged. “We’re ready to meet you.” She grunted as she pushed and sucked in a breath. “Fuck, it burns!”
“It’s alright, sweetheart. That just means the baby is coming,” Joanne told her daughter, brushing her hair back.
“Shit!” Hilary said as she adjusted herself, the contraction easing up. “I’ve always heard how bad the ring of fire is, but I wasn’t expecting it to be this bad.”
Joanne chuckled. “It’s awful, but once the head is out, it’s the best feeling.”
Julia’s hand moved in slow, soothing circles on Hilary’s back. “Do you want me to check?” she murmured. Hilary’s nod was barely perceptible, her eyes squeezed shut. Julia leaned down, looking in between her legs. “The head is almost halfway out, love. You’re incredible.” She pressed a trembling kiss to Hilary’s temple. “You can do this.”
“Okay,” Hilary breathed, and just then, she groaned as another contraction started. “Ugh,” she grunted, dragging the word out. “Come on, baby. Come on. You can do it. We can do it.”
Julia’s stomach flipped hearing her wife champion their baby. As she leaned down to look between her wife’s legs again, she saw Hilary place one hand on the baby’s head to guide it out and one on her perineum, applying pressure.
“Yes, honey. That’s it. You’re doing it. The head is nearly out!” She exclaimed.
With a final push, Hilary grunted as the head fully emerged. “Oh, fuck! Thank God!”
Julia and Joanne shared a laugh, and from the opposite side of the room, the midwife said, “Take a break. Baby can sit there a moment as they adjust to rotate to help you with the next part.”
Hilary nodded and looked up at Julia. “I’m doing it. I’m having a baby.” Her thumb brushed back and forth over the baby’s head between her legs.
“You are,” Julia beamed.
“It’s almost here,” her wife added, her eyes welling with tears.
Julia nodded. “Yeah.” She lifted a hand to Hilary’s cheek, catching a tear with the back of her finger. “Our first baby.”
“I can’t believe it,” Hilary stated in disbelief, and soon, she was sucking in a breath. Another contraction had started.
“Alright, Hilary, take it slow. Let the baby lead on this one.”
Hilary was silent as she pushed this time, feeling her baby work with her. “Ah, shit!” She shouted, placing her hands behind herself so she could lean back, giving the baby more room.
Julia moved to kneel in front of her wife’s legs, placing her hands under the baby. “You want me to catch, right?”
Hilary could only nod as she continued to push long and hard, a close-mouthed grunt the only sound now. The shoulders appeared, and then the lower half of the body, but the feet still remained inside. Hilary gave a tiny extra push, and the baby slid out, in Julia’s hands. A shrill cry erupted in the room, and both women sobbed as they looked at their baby. Julia carefully held the wet, slimy infant, letting Hilary look between the legs.
“Oh my god,” she cried, "it's a girl!”
“You got your girl, love,” Julia stated as she helped Hilary lift the baby up to her chest.
“I can’t believe it!” Hilary continued to cry. “I’ve always wanted a daughter.”
“I know, honey. I know,” Julia agreed. She rocked forward on her knees and moved to sit next to her wife, placing an arm around her shoulders to hold her and the baby.
“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” Joanne cried, pressing a kiss to the top of her daughter’s head as she stood up. She gave Julia a towel so they could clean the baby, then moved across the room to give the mothers a moment with their newborn.
The two women sat in silence, observing their daughter as she continued to cry, and Hilary began to gently rock her from side to side. It wasn’t long before her cries quieted to tiny whimpers, and then the midwife came over, standing in front of them with a stethoscope around her neck.
“Mind if I listen to her heart?”
Hilary shook her head and watched as the older woman placed the stethoscope in her ears and then placed the metal part against her daughter’s chest. A moment later, she was draping the instrument across her neck again.
“135 beats per minute,” she stated. “Absolutely perfect.” The woman stood and gave them a clean towel to wrap the baby in to keep her warm. “In a moment, I’d like to listen to the other twin so I can figure out what position it’s in.”
The mothers nodded and then turned their attention back to their daughter.
“She looks like you,” Hilary whispered, taking in the soft tufts of blonde hair on the baby’s head and her button nose.
Julia lifted a brow. “Does she?”
“I think she does,” Hilary said, nodding.
“Well, she’s absolutely beautiful, so I take that as a compliment.”
“You should.”
“So… she’s Emma, then?”
“Yes, Emma Victoria. If that’s alright with you?”
“You just gave birth to her, my love. Of course it is." Julia leaned over to kiss Hilary on the lips.
When they broke apart, Hilary sucked in a breath. “Shit! They’re starting again.”
“Okay,” the midwife said, moving back over to her, the portable heart monitor in hand. “Let me know when it’s finished, and we’ll listen to the other baby.”
Less than a minute later, the pain receded, and the thumping sound of the second twin’s heartbeat filled the room.
“It sounds like the baby has flipped,” the midwife informed them, removing the doppler from Hilary’s smaller bump. “Now, it’s perfectly alright for you to deliver a breech baby. But since you’re already exhausted, it might be better for you to try to encourage Baby to flip.” She stood up. “There are some techniques you can try, or I can do it manually, though that can be painful.”
Hilary’s eyes were wide as she listened to her midwife, and then she turned to Julia. “What do you think?”
“It’s your decision, honey.”
Hilary bit her bottom lip as she thought for a moment and then said, “I want to try to deliver breech.”
“Alright,” the midwife conceded. “But I should warn you, it can take time. It could be another hour or so of pushing. Do you think you can handle that?”
“No, but I don’t think I can handle trying to make the baby flip either.”
“Then it’s settled. When you next feel the urge to push, go ahead.”
It was a while before the urge returned, and as they waited, both mothers cooed to their daughter. When Hilary felt the agonizing pressure between her legs, she resumed her squatting position as she began to push. After the first contraction, the midwife clamped Emma’s cord, now that it was done pulsing, and let Julia cut it. She handed the baby off to Joanne and positioned herself behind Hilary again.
An hour passed, where she labored in the tub again, and there was still no sign of their second baby. As such, the midwife suggested that Julia hold her up, letting her dangle in her arms, using gravity in a different way.
Hilary bent her knees as the next contraction ripped through her, clinging to Julia’s arms like a lifeline. Everything inside her screamed to stop, but she pressed on, heart pounding, vision swimming. The line between pain and fear blurred; she felt herself teetering at the edge. But giving up wasn’t an option. Somewhere inside, a flicker of determination caught hold. She would do this for her baby.
She screamed as she pushed, not even having the energy to encourage this baby to come out. The room was quiet save for Hilary’s sounds. She had long since run out of tears, emotionally spent. The contraction ended, and she stood up straight, letting Julia sway them back and forth. She closed her eyes, screaming as she bore down again, determined to deliver this baby.
Without even noticing, the midwife had listened to the baby again, but Hilary felt out of her body. Like she was watching the scene from above. She was becoming frustrated. She had been laboring for over 30 hours now and pushing for what felt like just as long, and the baby hadn’t even budged. She whimpered as the next contraction started to build and instinctively bore down, feeling as her body pushed for her. Hilary was past the point of exhaustion. She was past the point of caring if she tore. All she wanted was for this baby to fucking come out.
“Get! Out!” she eventually screamed, pressing down on her belly. She thought counterpressure might help.
“Careful, Hilary,” she heard her mother exclaim from across the room
“I’m trying. I just want this baby out.”
“Why don’t you try getting on your hands and knees? That might help.” Julia suggested and helped lower her to the ground, sitting behind her, and adding pressure to her hips.
Once again, Hilary screamed as she pushed, and finally, finally, this position seemed to work. She felt the baby inch down, her mother stating that the buttocks were emerging, and without warning, Hilary retched on the floor. The midwife moved quickly, placing towels over the mess as Julia popped up and grabbed a trashcan, setting it in front of her wife in case she needed to be sick again. Between the pain and the exhaustion, Hilary’s body was done. It was often the way her body reacted when exerted past its limit.
Hilary pushed with a guttural sound, her mind dissolving into fog. The room receded—faces, voices, and even her own name blurred. She was nothing but body and will. Afterward, she’d be told it took thirty more minutes, but time meant nothing. With a final, primal push, the second twin slipped free into the world, caught in the midwife’s hands.
“Another girl,” the woman declared as Hilary collapsed forward. Joanne had placed some pillows around her (out of the way of her sickness on the floor) so that she could rest once the baby had come.
“Ohhhh,” Hilary cried quietly. She tried to sit up, but her body wouldn’t move. Instead, she stayed where she was.
Julia moved and cradled the baby in her arms, Joanne now covering their second daughter with a towel. “You gave your mommy such a hard time, little one. What was that all about?”
“I think it was a glimpse into your future of what she’s going to be like when she’s older,” Joanne joked.
The midwife was checking over Hilary, having helped her roll onto her back so that she could feel her stomach and determine if the placenta would be born soon. She clamped the cord once it had turned white, and Julia cut it again, breaking the tether between mother and child.
A short moment later, the midwife instructed Hilary to give a small push, and then she was finally done with labor.
Hilary lay sprawled on the floor, pillows tucked under her head, both twin girls cuddled in her arms. Julia, half-reclined at her side, gazed down at the tangle of their new family, eyes shining with awe and disbelief. The air buzzed with the quiet, overwhelming joy of arrival.
“We didn’t have a name picked out for a second girl…” Julia murmured.
“What do you think of Eloise?” Hilary asked.
“Oh, I like that.” Julia responded with a nod and then bent down to place a kiss on the baby’s blonde hair. "Charlotte, for a second name?”
“Yes,” Hilary responded. “Eloise and Emma.”
After checking over Hilary one last time an hour later, the midwife left, promising to pop in tomorrow. Joanne called Julia’s mother to tell her the news, and then she kissed both women goodbye and went back to the hotel to take a nap. She would return that evening with her husband and Julia’s parents so the other three adults could meet their granddaughters.
As Hilary and Julia were left alone after moving to their bedroom to rest, they watched their daughters tandem-feed.
“You’re definitely doing this next time if we decide to have another,” Hilary said quietly. “I cannot go through that again.”
Julia chuckled. “Of course, honey. I can’t watch you in that much pain again. It was awful. There wasn’t anything I could do.”
Hilary turned her face to her wife. “You did everything. You kept me calm as long as possible, encouraged me, and reminded me I could do it. You never left my side. Not once.”
“That’s not true,” Julia stated. “I took a nap while you were resting. After your mom got here, she ordered me to bed.”
“Well, it’s good that she did because I would not have made it through the birth without you.”
“I would never dream of leaving you alone,” Julia replied. She smiled, noticing that Emma had released her mother’s breast. “She’s looking at you.”
Hilary looked down at her daughter. “Oh, hello, sweetheart. Did you have a good lunch?”
The baby cooed, and her twin whimpered, their tiny hands curling against their mother’s skin. Julia and Hilary pressed their heads together, watching their daughters’ chests rise and fall, letting the warmth and wonder of the moment settle in. Eventually, they drifted to sleep—a tangle of limbs, heartbeats, and dreams—content in the hush of their new family.
I just role played giving birth on the floor in my room, fully naked on my hands and knees, and it was glorious. I came so hard. I had to be quiet because I don’t live alone, which made it even more exciting. I definitely wasn’t completely quiet, but I managed to keep my voice controlled.
I’m so proud of myself. I’ve only ever given birth on my bed or on the toilet, and this was a whole new experience I really enjoyed. But man was it hard in that position. Not going to lie though, I made myself nauseous lol. I guess from trying to control everything so much instead of fully relaxing and giving in. I don’t know. But it’s very interesting. Makes me wonder what my body would do if I were to give birth for real.
