Chapter 58 - My Son

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Chapter 58 - My Son

—Tris

"We never talked about names." Tobias says from the living room as I pace.
I can't stay in one position for even a minute before the pain in my back becomes too much.

"Have you thought about any?" I ask, because I haven't even thought about it.

"Barely," he laughs.

"It would be cute if we did a 'T' name. Like a name beginning with the letter, just like ours," I think out loud.

"Yeah," he agrees, the ball probably halfway filled.

I groan, feeling the painful pressure on my back signaling another contraction coming on.

I don't want to do this anymore.

"Breathe, baby," I hear Tobias as I move into the kitchen.

I can feel him slowly moving in my body, lowering down to eventually leave my body.

And it feels awful.

"Tobias?" I cry, my heart pounding as my lower body contracts.
I can't do this without him.

"I'm here," he holds me close and I lean on him, lacing his hand in mine, my face against his bare chest.
It's a million degrees in here.

He helps me breathe through the contraction, and I panic as the contraction ends and there is still a new dull pain from deep inside of me.

I look at Tobias and his eyes meet mine. I feel myself melting, holding onto him for my life.

"You're okay," he cups my cheek and I open my mouth to disagree but a sob I wasn't expecting is all that leaves.

It's nearing two in the morning on June 22, and he's been by my side, dealing with my pacing and discomfort all night.
The last time the midwife came an hour ago I was at eight centimeters, nearing nineteen hours since my water broke.

I know I've been through a lot, and I know I can tolerate a lot.
But I don't believe I can do this much longer.

Tobias

She's sobbing uncontrollably and I don't know what to do.

"Tris, baby, talk to me." Her tears run down her cheeks and she breathes heavily.

"Beatrice, please say something. I'm worried about you, Tris."

"I'm tired," she says weakly between her sobs. "I don't want to do this anymore, Tobias. It hurts." Her grey eyes lock with mine and I hold her tighter.

"Should I call the midwife?"

"I don't know," she whines.

"Let me keep blowing up the ball, maybe that will help," I hate pulling away from her right grasp on me but I can't stand seeing her like this.

I pump the ball faster as she walks into the spare guest bedroom. We decided she will give birth in there, on the double sized bed that now is covered in plastic with some blankets we are not concerned about getting dirty.
When the midwife was here last time we also decided on a position to try for her to give birth.
Since she's been so clingy upon her water breaking, the midwife suggested to try her being with me against the wall, then her back to my chest and her being between my legs. This way I will be right there with her, and I can have both her hands in mine.
Plus, I don't know how I'd be watching a child come out of my wife... Tris needs me conscious for support, not supporting from below.

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