Moon's Crescent (Book One)

Forty-One: New Additions Pt. 2

***Moon's P. O. V.***

They say that all the pain of child birth goes away when you finally have your baby in your arms. That seems to be true in Crescent's case. As soon as the first pup comes out and they let Crescent hold him, he's all smiles.  

"It's a boy, Moon! A cute little boy!" he exclaims.

I kiss his forehead, smiling. I'm so proud of him. He gets a few seconds with the baby before they take him away. I hate to take the baby away from him, but he needs to focus on getting the others out.

The birth process for the quadruplets is a continuous, awful cycle. Once one comes out, we have to wait for the next ones water sack thing to break. Which means hours more of contractions. Then, Crescent has to push until the baby is out, and he starts the process over again. Apparently, every case is different. Some people manage to get all four babies out within a few hours, whereas some people take days. It's already been more than a day.

I'm snapped out of my thoughts by the sound of Crescent crying. He sniffling quietly, wiping his eyes.

"What's wrong, baby?" I ask, leaning over to embrace him.

"I-I'm just s-so tired," he sobs.

"I'm sorry, Koala. I wish I could help you. But look, see our baby over there?" I point to the swaddled bundle laying in one of those clear baby bins. "Isn't worth it for him? For all of them?"

"You're r-right," he says quietly.

I return to my normal sitting position, "Then be brave and get through this. I believe in you."

He smiles for a moment. He loves hearing that I'm proud of him, or that I believe in him.

"Why don't you try sitting up?" Clarke suggests. "It might be less strenuous for you."

Crescent nods, and I help him sit up. He wants me to get into bed with him, so I do. I'm sitting behind him, his head resting on my chest. I reach around and place my hands on his belly.

"Is this a better position?" I ask.

"M-mhm," he replies. "A l-lot more pressure, b-but better."

I kiss the top of his head. He's such a trooper. I just love him so much.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Come on, Koala! Do it!" I encourage him loudly enough to be heard over his screams.

"This is definitely the alpha pup," the doctor says.

"Nnngghh!" Crescent groans.

"The head is crowning. You're almost there," the doctor says calmly.

Crescent relaxes his body again with a sob. He takes a moment to rest before pushing again.

"I-I can't take it!" he screams.

"Keep going. You got this, baby," I say, holding his hands tighter.

He pushes again, gasping when the head comes out fully. I can't look. It's too gross.

I'm so relieved when the next baby finally comes out. It's a boy, and he's definitely an alpha. He weighs an amazing ten pounds, two ounces. He doesn't even cry when he comes out, he just looks around with wide eyes like he can't believe he's out in the real world. Of course he starts crying when the doctors manhandle him, though.

~~~~~~~~~~

I sigh shakily as the nurse runs the ultrasound wand across my mate's stomach. Something's not right. The last two babies haven't progressed at all, and it's been hours. Total, Crescent's labor has lasted almost seventy-three hours.

"It seems that one of them has turned breech," the nurse says.

"What does that mean??" I ask worriedly.

"It just means that they're in the wrong position. The baby is supposed to come out head first, but a breech baby is one that is in position to come out feet first," she explains.

"Can I still get them out on my own if they're that way?" my koala asks.

"It's not recommended. You'll need a c-section immediately," she replies.

"Seriously?" I ask.

She nods in response.

"You'll need to be prepped for surgery," she tells Crescent.

He nods, closing his eyes and exhaling slowly. As soon as she leaves, tears begin to trickle down his cheeks.

"Hey, it's okay," I say. "Don't cry, please. It makes me sad."

"I-I'm sorry!" he bursts out.

"For what?"

"I've disappointed y-you! I-I can't even g-get your pups out b-by myself! I'm a h-horrible m-mate!"

"Oh my god, Crescent! You haven't disappointed me at all! Just because one of the babies decided to be uncooperative and not go the way they're supposed to, doesn't mean you did anything wrong. This kind of thing happens all the time, I think. Don't worry. I'm still just as proud of you as ever before," I say, kissing him gently.

"R-really?"

"Yes, baby. I only care about your safety, and that of the babies."

They take Crescent to go get ready for surgery, and I'm given some weird scrub type things to wear over my clothes. When I see my mate again, he has a little, puffy surgery hat on, and oxygen tubes in his nose. It's the type that go across his cheeks and behind his ears, joining up again a little ways down. A cannula, I think they call it.

"I'm all numb," he whispers.

"Good. No more pain," I say.

They set up a blue curtain just above his stomach so we can't see what's going on behind it.

"It's completely normal to feel a tugging sensation, but tell us immediately if you feel any pain at all," one of the nurses says.

"Okay," Crescent replies quietly.

He breathes slowly, calming himself. Although I feel like total crap about the situation, I have to stay strong for him. Everything is going to be okay. It has to.

"I feel sick," Crescent suddenly says, and a nurse hurries to bring something for him to puke into in case he does.

He inhales sharply before heaving. I cringe. Throwing up is the worst.

"Are you okay?" I ask sympathetically.

"No," he replies, shaking his head.

Suddenly, the loud sobs of an infant fill the room. The doctor brings over the bloody, gross pup, holding it where Crescent can see.

"It's a girl!" I exclaim.

He smiles, reaching out to touch our little girl. I watch as they take her away to be cleaned up and swaddled. My mate's eyelids flutter and I watch him turn pale all of a sudden.

"His heart rate's dropping!" one of the doctor says, and I panic internally.

"Almost got the baby. We need all hands on deck to stop the bleeding," another says.

"Sir, we're gonna have to ask you to leave," a nurse says.

"W-why?" I ask. "Is it that bad??"

"Sir, please. Everything will be explained later. This is a matter of his life and death."

My eyes widen and I step out of the room.

"Crescent, I love you!!!" I yell as the doors close.

It's the last thing I ever say to him. . .