The Prince's Heart [Bridgerton Fic]

A New Day

Thanks again for the support! I'm hoping to get to 150K soon.

Harriet screamed again as another contraction ripped through her.

It turns out that she was not destined for a quick labour. Her water had broken at just around 10a.m. It had hit midnight and was now around 2 a.m the next morning.

She was thirsty, tired, hungry, achy and just plain exhausted.

The doctor insisted that her Labour was coming along perfectly normally, just rather slowly. She knew that Aunt Hilda had been in labour for a day and half with cousin Joseph. Two days was not completely unheard of, though the outcome of that was not usually great. All Dr. Watkins could do was comfort Harriet.

His poor assistant looked close to fainting.

Hilda, the Viscountess, Julia, and Phoebe had been by her side since their quick arrivals upon being summoned. They'd soldier through tiredness to remain holding her hand.

Friedrich remained outside. Hilda made it clear that the only men allowed in a birthing chamber were medical professionals, fathers being no exception. Harriet didn't mind. She didn't think men had any place in these matters either.

They'd sent the Viscount and her brothers home a few hours ago, promising to send a message as soon as something happened. She could see their relief. Her father had been through this four times before, but her brothers were clearly revolted.

It looked as though teenager John was going to be sick.

"Mama, it hurts," Harriet complained.

"I know, darling, I know," the Viscountess wiped Harriet's sweaty brow, "But you're doing so well. The pain is normal. You will get through it, I promise."

Harriet screamed again. She was so irritable. A lack of sleep would do that to anyone.

"Can you not make this quicker?" she half yelled at the doctor.

"I am sorry, Your Majesty, but I cannot. We must let nature take its course, but I can assure you that you are close to birth. You shall likely give birth before the end of the hour."

"I should hope so," Harriet replied in a most un-ladylike fashion, throwing her head back onto the pillow, "My goodness. Mama, can you please pray again? Perhaps God will be merciful."

"Of course."

The Viscountess recited the Lord's Prayer aloud. Harriet laid back, taking comfort in God's word. She could only hope that God would hasten her baby's arrival. The hours of childbirth had been most challenging.

She did not want to jinx it either. So many women fell in childbirth and she hoped not to be one of them. Childbed fever did not discriminate between the poorest charwoman and the richest noblewoman.

A healthy child and a healthy mother, God willing.

"Ah, Jensen, I need fresh towels. Your Highness, it is time. Now, I want you to keep pushing, even when you feel too tired to. It is absolutely imperative that you keep pushing. Try to take a breath between contractions if you can, but please keep pushing. The baby will be along shortly. Now...push."

It hurt.

Her body was racked with pain as she pushed with all of her might. The intensity of it only increased with each heavy, tiring push. She could feel the need to expel the baby from her body, but she was so darn tired. Her entire body was ready to give up.

"I can't push."

"You must, Your Highness."

"I'm tired, Mama."