we are so close to 400k you guys! thank you so much for your continued support!
||-||
Rebecca knew that thinking she was going to get a good night's sleep was too good to be true.
At first, yeah, it was all looking rather promising. For the first time in days, she'd fallen asleep within moments.
She got maybe two hours before waking with a cramp in her leg. Roger had rolled over onto his side of the bed and she couldn't help but glare at him in the darkness when he let out a quiet snore.
And he has the cheek to say that I snore.
She adjusted her pillow and started stretching out her leg until the pain went away then closed her eyes again...only to be awoken twenty minutes later by Sprout doing gymnastics.
Looking at the clock on Roger's bedside table, she saw that it had just gone past two in the morning.
"Seriously?" she whispered, rubbing at her tired eyes.
Roger, having become accustomed to her moving around, stirs and although he doesn't open his eyes, he turns over and slings a careful arm over her stomach, thumb rubbing as he tries to soothe their acrobatic child.
To her relief -and surprise-, it actually works and placing her hand on top of his, she forces herself to go back to sleep.
The third time Rebecca woke, it was thanks to an awful falling sensation that she'd felt in her dream and for a moment, she hoped that she'd slept through the night but knew that wasn't the case when she takes a glance outside.
It was still pitch black.
Groaning in frustration and once again rubbing her tired eyes, she decides that perhaps if she lies a different way, that would help her sleep and so slowly and carefully, she turns onto her right side instead of her left but suddenly, she freezes.
The sheets were wet. No, the sheets were soaking wet.
Oh.
With a shaking hand, she throws the duvet off of her and in the dim moonlight, she could see that there was water all over her thighs.
Oh.
"Rog?" she whispered, frantically feeling around in the darkness for him. "Roger?" she repeated, this time louder, hand coming in contact with his shoulder and too terrified to move, she swats him until finally, he started to stir.
"What is it?" he asks sleepily.
"My-I think my water broke," she said, voice shaking.
"What?" he asks again, rolling over so he was facing her.
"My water has broke," Rebecca repeats and Roger, her words clearly not registering in his sleepy mind, shuffles closer though when he comes in contact with the wet patch on the bed, he yelps and sits up.
At a speed she's never seen him move at before, he flicks on his light and looks toward her, eyes immediately being drawn to the dark patch that's on their sheets.
"Holy shit," he breathes, "Holy-okay, okay. We've gotta go."
While he's haphazardly pulling on a hoodie, some trousers and his shoes, she stays rooted to the spot, staring down at the sheets.
She isn't ready.
"Becca?" Roger asks, moving to stand at her side of the bed, "Bex, love, we've gotta go."
"Rog," she whispers, still frozen.
She isn't ready.
He puts a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Come on. Let me help you up. We've got to get you to the hospital."
Once he's got her standing, he helps her change into a dry pair of PJ bottoms before lowering her back onto the bed so he can slip the closest pair of shoes on her feet.
"Are you scared?" she asks, voice quiet as he does up the laces of the right shoe and he looks up.
"Terrified," he admits, resting a hand on her knee, "But we've got this, yeah? A little earlier than we thought but we're going to be fine."
Though she's terrified, Rebecca nods and lets him help her downstairs, where he leaves her for a moment so he can duck into the living room and grab the go-bag and his keys.
"Out we go," he mumbles after he's draped his fur coat around her shoulders and slowly, they make their way to the car.
Once he's got her safely in the passenger seat and tossed the bag into the back, Roger darts back to the house to lock the front door and Rebecca groans when there's a twinge of pain in her abdomen.
Roger slides into the driver's seat but before he can start the car, he feels her hand wrap around his wrist and he looks at her.
"'m scared," he says and his face softens, "I know I can do it but I'm scared, Rog."
"I am too," he repeats and for some reason, knowing that they're both feeling the same way helps calm her a little bit and as Roger starts the engine, Rebecca rest her head back against the seat and tries to focus on her breathing.
She finally read the books and she knew that even though her water has broken, she might not get the contractions right away. Every pregnancy was different according to the books but they could start any minute now.
"Reckon it's going to be around half an hour, maybe forty-five minutes," Roger spoke, "Traffic shouldn't be too bad, right?" He rests his hand on her knee, "Think you can make half an hour?"
At this moment in time, she hates the fact that they live so fucking far away from the city but knowing that Roger is needing an answer, she nods and puts on a brave face.
||-||
"Name?"
This nurse was far too calm for Rebecca's liking. She was in labour for crying out loud, how could people be so calm?
"Um, Taylor," Roger answers, also ridiculously calm, "Roger Taylor."
"And you, love?" she directs her question to Rebecca this time.
"Rebecca," she managed. The nurse had asked her the question at the same time she felt another contraction and the woman sat beside her jumps when Rebecca slams a hand down on the desk, "Rebecca Taylor. Sorry." Roger puts his hand on her shoulder as she breathes through the pain, "Ow, ow, ow...Christ, that was a good one."
The nurse, who had waited patiently for it to pass, grabbed her clipboard, "When did the contractions start?"
"On the way here," she answered.
She got the first one in the car and she had grabbed Roger's arm so suddenly that he almost crashed.
"And how far apart?"
"I don't know," she admits. She had tried to keep track but her mind had been elsewhere.
"Four, five minutes maybe?" Roger answers for her, "She's only had three so far."
Thank god one of them had been paying attention.
"Alright, Rebecca. If you'd like to just follow me and we'll get you checked out," the nurse points to a room just off the main hallway, "We need to check your cervix and if you're at least four centimetres dilated, we can admit you but anything less then I'm afr-"
"I don't think you understand," Roger says calmly but firmly, "We're miles from the city. We've driven forty-five minutes to get here and I am not driving all the way home just to drive us back in."
"I do understand, Mr Taylor but protocol dict-"
"I don't give a fuck about the protocol," he snaps and Rebecca puts a calming hand on his shoulder.
"Rog."
"We'll get you checked, Rebecca. See what's going on."
"Thank you," she nods, slowly following her into the room where, with Roger's help, she gets situated in the chair so the nurse can take a quick look.
"As luck would have it," the nurse begins, beaming up at her, "You're just about at five."
Rebecca relaxes slightly as she motions for a porter to bring in a wheelchair for her.
"Can you take her up to labour and delivery?" the nurse asks the man politely, "Rebecca, we'll get you settled in up there."
"Thank you," Roger says, clearing his throat as the nurse passed him, "And I apologise for snapping at you."
"Don't worry," she gives his arm a reassuring pat, "I completely understand."
||-||
Ten centimetres was what was needed to push and according to Maggie, the midwife who was now attending to her, she was only at six so she still had a little bit of waiting to do.
Rebecca was going into almost two hours of active labour and every contraction was getting stronger and stronger.
And although everything earlier in the evening had happened so fast, now, everything had come to an abrupt halt.
Roger had alternated between pacing the length of the room and sitting at her bedside holding her hand and honestly, he was doing an alright job of hiding just how nervous he was but there were little things that only Rebecca noticed; the way he tapped his fingers against his knees and the way he'd run his hands through his hair three times in the last five minutes - those things let her know that he was jittery.
"Rog," Rebecca says quietly as he gets up to pace again, "You can go get yourself a coffee or something. Nothing's going to happen that quickly."
But he shakes his head, standing by the bed once more, "I'm fine, love. But what about you? Do you want some more ice chips?"
"I'm goo-wait." she groaned, feeling another contraction wrap itself around her.
Roger's hand found hers and she squeezed it so tightly that his fingers started turning purple as she breathed through it and once the pain subsided once more, she relaxed back against the pillows.
When Rebecca thought of contractions, she had thought that it would be short bursts of pain but it wasn't. Almost every one of them was lasting a whopping forty seconds. That was what was tiring her out.
"Holy shit," Roger whispered, looking at the monitor that was keeping track of her contractions, the one she'd just experienced spiking the highest yet and she looks to see him shaking his head, "You're incredible."
Over the next half hour, she grits her teeth through several more contractions; the time between each one getting shorter and shorter.
She was now laid on her side, trying to relieve some of the pressure that was on her back and Roger, bless him, wasn't any more comfortable. He was sat on the edge of his chair, body hunched over so he could whisper comforting words into her ear as the contractions continued to plague her. "You're doing so well," he murmured, massaging her scalp, "So well, love."
Rebecca doesn't even look at the door when it opens again, knowing that it's Maggie, who's been ducking in every now and then to check on her progress. She just focuses on the feeling of Roger's touches and the sound of his voice as she goes about doing her checks.
"Eight centimetres," she hums, pulling her disposable gloves off, "We're getting there, sweetheart. If you'd like, to help move things along, you can get up and take a little walk around the room. Tends to help."
Roger raises an eyebrow at her and she nods. Anything to get this child out quicker.
And so with his help, she gets up off the bed and slowly walks around the room, a look of pure determination on her face.
"I can feel them moving a little bit," Rebecca murmurs, looking at Maggie who nods encouragingly, "They're really low."
Roger watches her from his chair, ready to spring into action at any point if she needs him but she's got this and when she looks at him, she gives him a tired but happy smile.
"This is it, Rog."
She's feeling a whole bunch of emotions right now; nervous for having to actually give birth, happy at the fact that she won't be pregnant anymore, excited that they're going to meet their baby but of course, she's also feeling a little sad that this part of the journey is over.
She's going to miss her bump.
When another contraction hits her, she places her hand on the wall and breathes through it, feeling Roger's hands on her shoulders.
"Bex, maybe you should sit down," she can hear the anxiousness in his voice but she shakes her head.
She was determined to walk around some more.
"'M fine," she says, patting his cheek lightly as she walks by, "'m good."
After exactly half an hour, she gets back onto the bed and gets comfortable, well as comfortable as she can whilst being in labour and not even a second after she does, a contraction so strong ripped through her body and for the first time throughout the whole ordeal, she actually cries out.
"Oh god," she whimpered, "God, that hurt. It hurts, Rog."
His brow furrows. He hates seeing her like this and he hates that he can't do anything to take that pain away from her.
He returns to his spot beside her, letting her grip his hand as tight as she wants and although he feels like she could easily break his hand, he doesn't complain.
How could he?
"That's it," he encourages, "Breathe through it, love."
She moans quietly, teeth clenched.
"It'll all be worth it," Roger whispers, placing a hand on her stomach, "Yeah? We're so close."
Nodding, Rebecca relaxes as the pain subsides.
It would all be worth it.
||-||
Another half an hour later, when Maggie comes back into the room, Rebecca was ready to throw in the towel and ask for pain relief.
She'd held off as long as she could.
"Please," she groaned, looking at the midwife, "It has to be time. I can't-it hurts too much."
God, she hated how whiney she sounded but considering that she was close to pushing a tiny human from her body, she thinks she deserves it.
Maggie smiles sympathetically and pats her covered foot "We'll have another look in a few, yeah?"
Closing her eyes, Rebecca feels Roger's hand in her hair and she opens them again so she can look at him.
"It's too early to ring my mum, yeah?" he asks, trying his best to take her mind off of the pain, "She told me to ring as soon as anything happened but I don't think she'd appreciate being woken at this time."
Rebecca doesn't even look when Maggie returns to the end of her bed, this time with another a nurse. She's gotten used to the feeling now, "Probably not. Clare certainly wouldn't."
A smile tugs at his lips but it fades when she bites her lip to try and stifle the groans of pain from another contraction.
"'m proud of you, you know?" he murmurs into her ear as she grips his hand, "'m so proud of you. You've never complained once during these six month-"
"Rebecca," Maggie says, interrupting Roger's praises and they both look at her as she smiles at them, "You're fully dilated. The on-call doctor is on her way. Do you think you're ready to start pushing?"
"Yes. Fuck, yes. Please." she says, immediately perking up and Roger laughs quietly, leaning in to kiss her forehead, "Sorry, didn't mean to swear."
"I think we can let it slide," a new voice speaks from the doorway, Doctor Smith according to her name badge and she steps in to take Maggie's spot at the bottom of the bed, smiling warmly at Rebecca as she pulls on a set of gloves, "Are you ready?"
Rebecca nods frantically, pushing herself up in the bed as she tried to work out the best position and she looked at Roger, "'m apologising in advance for what I might say to you and call you, okay?"
Nodding and looking significantly paler, Roger leans down to hold her hand.
"Hey," Rebecca says, "Are you okay?"
He splutters out a laugh, "You're the one who's giving birth and you're asking if I'm okay?"
"Are you?"
"Not really," he admits quietly, so only she could hear, "I don't like seeing you like this, love. Wish I could help, y'know?"
Rebecca's heart warms and she runs a thumb over his cheek, "I know you do. But Sprout is worth it."
"Rebecca," Dr Smith says, "Listen, I know there's a lot of people in here but I need you to listen to my voice and follow my instructions. We're going to wait for the next contraction and then I need you to take a deep breath and push until the count of ten, yes?"
She nods and Roger, who had been watching the doctor in concentration, hanging on her every word, looks down at her, "You've got this, love."
She cries out when she feels the next contraction start. This was the worst one. It felt as if someone had lit a fire at the bottom of her spine and she felt a couple of tears slip from her eyes.
"Okay, you feel that?" the doctor says and all she can do in the form of a reply, is nod.
Yes she could fucking feel it!
"We're going to have you push, okay? Deep breath in and-yep, that's it. Just like that, Rebecca."
She gave it all she had, releasing Roger's hand so she could grip the cool metal of the bed's railings instead and as she pushed, she couldn't help but cry out, which -despite popular belief- did absolutely nothing to help.
"That's it, Rebecca. Now, try again. Deep breath in," the doctor encourages and she did, "Good. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine and ten. Great job, love and I'm sorry but I'm going to need you to do it again."
It was a never-ending cycle. A horrible cycle, the worst thing she had ever gone through. It felt as if she was coming apart at the seams and she's relieved when Dr Smith lets her take a short breather.
It felt as if she had been pushing forever but in reality, it had barely been ten minutes.
"Rebecca, listen to me," the doctor instructs, "Rebecca, I'm going to need another push, just like that last one."
"I can't do it," she cries, falling back against the pillows as Roger places his forehead against hers, "I can't. Rog, I can't."
"Yes you can," he nods, brushing some hair from her brow, "You can, my love. You're so close. So close."
Closing her eyes and pushing her chin into her chest, she grits her teeth as the doctor tells her to push once more.
"That's it!" Roger encourages as the doctor looks up at her.
"Rebecca, we can see the head. I'm going to need another of those pushes. Curl around your baby, that's it."
With Roger's help, Rebecca somehow manages to sit up, crying out through another ten-second push, blocking out everything that isn't Dr Smith's voice or Roger's.
"Head and shoulders are out, Rebecca," Dr Smith says, "We could have your baby in the next push."
"Hear that?" Roger asks, voice thick, "We just need one more, love, come on. One more big push and they'll be here. We'll have our baby."
"Okay," she sobbed, gripping the handles so tight it was a wonder they hadn't broken, "Rog-"
"One more," he says in her ear, "One more, love. I know you can do it."
He rubbed the back of her neck and leaned in close, pressing his lips to her temple and just holding them there. If he could feel all the pain for her, take it all away for her, he would do it without question, "Just one more push, sweetheart, last one."
"Ready? Big deep breath, deep breath!" the doctor said, "And big push, come on, one, two, three, four, five-"
On six, it felt like everything stopped; a small, almost tinny cry pierced through the silence and Rebecca fell back onto the pillows, tears falling in both pain and relief.
Upon hearing another, louder cry, her eyes flew back open.
She couldn't see past your knees, but then the doctor moved your gown out of the way and there they were.
Squirming and screaming and covered in goo, their baby was out and they were making it very well known that they were here.
"It's a girl," the doctor said warmly, and as she quickly lifted her up over the gown and as if on instinct, Rebecca yanked the top of her gown down so the first thing she really felt was her mother's skin against hers.
"Oh my God, oh my-oh, hi, hi," Rebecca whispered, half sobbing as the doctor settled the baby girl down against her breast, simultaneously wiping her off and making sure her airways were clear -though there didn't seem to be any doubt about that, though; she was wailing.
"Roger," she hiccups, "Rog,"
He leans his forehead against hers once more and she hears him take a shuddering breath, "She's perfect."
And she is. Rebecca doesn't care that she's not completely cleaned up, she is absolutely perfect.
"'m so proud of you," Roger whispers, looking down at the tiny human in her arms, wiping his eyes before his tears can fall, "So proud, you did amazing."
Rebecca looks up at him and he leans down to kiss her softly before letting out a breathless laugh.
"That's our Sprout, Bex," he says, "God, look at her, she's so small."
"Dad?" Dr Smith says quietly, giving the two of them a smile, "Would you like to cut the chord?"
Rebecca gives him an encouraging nod and once the doctor has shown him where to snip, he returns straight to Rebecca's side, where the two of them stare down at the little life they had created and Roger presses his lips against her forehead once more.
"Welcome to the world, baby Taylor."
||-||
ooft, this was a MASSIVE chapter. BABY TAYLOR IS HERE GUYS!