The Monsters of the Mind

Part 25

Rose's POV 

On the sixth of June the following year, I finally gave birth to my little one - a boy.

Nearly twelve hours of labor from the previous afternoon all the way into the early hours of the morning left my body sore, open, and empty. Tears had mixed with sweat when the pain had become unbearable, my hands clasping the railings on either side of me in a tight grip - the metal feeling like it was going to break under my touch. I could feel nothing but the raw pain as my baby moved from within me and out into the world, my lungs screaming for air. 

The doctors had done their best to keep me as comfortable as possible - but the childbirth was a difficult one, especially since I had never had a child before and my husband was nowhere in the vicinity of the hospital I was at. I knew I could hear their voices, telling me to keep pushing - to keep breathing - but even as I tried my hardest, my heart was thrumming in my ears; too loud for me to hear anything but it and the blood pumping wildly through my veins.

But once that little baby let out a screech, everything popped around me.

His voice was loud like mine, his cries slowly being comforted by the nurse after they had cut the cord from him and swaddled him up in white - the blood and other liquids staining the cloth as they carried him away.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Hall," a doctor smiled in comfort, patting my hand as I struggled to sit up, "They're just going to take a few measurements and weigh him. They'll bring him straight back once they're finished."

And, like he said, they returned him to me only a few moments later.

"Careful dear, he's quite a squirmer," one of the nurses chuckled, handing him to me.

The little bundle was indeed moving about within the blanket, his hands reaching out and clasping at my finger. He was acting like a child that had been born several months ago - not like a newborn. 

But, I could see everything else was fine.

Ten fingers, ten toes... he had a light dusting of dark hair on his head that would grow into curls, and his eyes were still tightly closed and his lips were pressed together in a tight scowl. His chubby cheeks were pink and warm to the touch - not a single issue or problem covered his body.

"He's healthy then?" I asked hopefully.

"Seems so," the nurse smiled, "and, I'll say this, in all the years I've practiced, I've never encountered a baby like yours before. He's already quite the charmer, even if he's only a few minutes old."

"He gets that from his father," I mumbled quietly, pressing my baby closer to me.

"Speaking of which," the doctor spoke up, "Shall we try to get in contact with him again?"

"No, I'll have one of my staff members get in contact with him," I answered quickly.

"Alright then, but we'll need the birth certificate signed by you, at least, today," the man spoke, pulling out a pen and the paper, "Do you have a name in mind for him?"

I looked down at my little boy, thinking hard.

Hugo wanted no part in his upbringing, that I was sure about - even if my heart wanted to say different. This poor little one would be trapped with the man's last name, but I could at least do something about his first and middle.

"James Alexander," I smiled, "His name is James Alexander Hall."

***