9: A Son Born In To Apathy

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Three months after Emma's 1st birthday, Christmas time came around. There was a desperation to the way Sarah was suddenly hanging onto Oliver's chest. She knew it was only because of her loneliness, and she wondered if at some point, Oliver would give into her. On Christmas Eve, she finally got what she wanted.

The warmth from him was a sickly feeling, and guilt started creeping in on her as he drunkenly slurred sweet nothings in her ear. There was no relief to the way he was holding her against his chest, sloppily thrusting up into her, groaning gently in her ear as he pressed his hands against her breasts.

That night, when there was a small bit of relief, was the same night another life was born. Now, around the start of July, Sarah held her heavy belly as she sat down at the desk. Daydreams of her accomplishments were becoming her waking nightmares. Every reality she thought of that she could've achieved seemed to be taunting her. She was reading, writing, drafting a letter to get into Glendale University. It was the nightmares that were driving her, along with the reality that she was about to have two children before she was 22.

First, her birthday. They congratulated her on her pregnancy, growing more excited when Oliver kept going around and spilling the news of the gender to everybody. He returned to his caring ways when he found out, rubbing her belly gently, talking to the life brewing in her uterus. The name for her second child was already picked out from the start: Alex Grean.

The fear of the birthing pain was the last thing on her mind. Now, she began to worry about the possibility of Oliver throwing her out. The only thing that extinguished this irrational fear was her mom's words. 

They're catholics. Sarah kept rolling her eyes every time she remembered those tense moments.

She could care less now.

Oliver was holding onto her forearms, watching her face contort in agony as the ring of fire swept through her like the devil himself. He rubbed her back, massaging her belly. Alex was a big boy, and he wasn't a complete full term baby like Emma was.

Sarah wanted to give birth with gravity helping her. She hung from her armpits, by her request as she squat, noticing the difference in the pain. Her legs were shaking as Alex moved through her, ready to break his way into the world. Oliver held her forearms, hearing her cries as his son was being brought into the world.

This beautiful miracle of birth made his knees weak as he watched his young wife fight through pain and tears just to bring their creation into the world. 

"C'mon, Sarah-" He sounded encouraging, squeezing onto her forearms as she squeezed onto his, groaning out in pain as Alex's head started to slip through into the world. 

Just a little more, dammit-!

The sound of his cries almost made her collapse. Oliver helped hold her upright, watching as the sweat slipped down her forehead, breath labored as she tried to recover from the pain of birth. Alex was cleaned up, and the first to hold him was Sarah, the second being his father, who snatched him up in a single moment.

That second, when Oliver pressed his forehead to hers, tears forming in his eyes at the beauty of his son, was the first moment Sarah smiled as she held onto him. 

"Look at what we made," He muttered, holding his son close to his body. Sarah's legs gave out and she fell to her knees, careful to not squish the baby between the two of them. She was crying, hiccuping as the relief ripped through her with the same viciousness as the pain did. But this was her process. It continued on even after she left the hospital, her baby boy in her arms.

For a couple months, Oliver became what Sarah wanted him to be. She finally gave him what he wanted, and when things seemed to get better, Oliver reeled out. His son was all that mattered now.

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