Accidental Surrogate

Ella

I'm gripping my sister’s hand, gritting my teeth and groaning through the first of my pushes, when the door bangs open again.I don’t open my eyes — can't look - Quite frankly, at this particular moment I don’t care who the hell it is - if it's Hank, or Roger, or insurgents coming to kill us — all I care about is the horrible, tearing pain within me as I work to bring my baby into the world.I moan, throwing my head back against the pillows as I pant, feeling the pain subside a little bit.

"How is she?"

I hear Hank ask, and I open my eyes to see him there next to me.I try to give him a little smile, failing a bit.

"Hello, Ella," he says softly, his voice warmer than I'm used to.

"You look like you're doing great." mI murmur my thanks to him as he turns his attention back to Cora, getting a full report, and I shift my gaze to Roger, who stands awkwardly across the room.

"Roger," I say, putting my hand out to him, inviting him closer.

"Hello, Ella!" he calls, awkward.

"Happy...happy birth. Or whatever."

Sinclair starts to laugh quietly.

"Come over, Roger," he demands and Roger sighs, hanging his head and deliberately choosing not to look at me as he comes to stand with his brother.

"What," Sinclair asks him as he arrives at his side.

"More of a cigars in the waiting room kind of guy?"

"Yeah," Roger agrees, giving his brother a little glare.

"I'd say that’s much more my vibe."

"I wanted you here," I say to him, giving him a tired little smile.

"I want you to meet the baby."

"Of course I want to meet the baby, Ella," Roger says, his voice kinder now as he meets my gaze.

"Just...when you've cleaned it up a bit. Gotten some of the goop off." I laugh, a little, but groan when I feel the pain start to return.

Cora climbs up onto the bed for this one, cursing a little at the lack of stirrups and the soft surface of the mattress that makes it harder for her to see what's really going on.

his groan as he turns away, which perversely makes me want

Sinclair solid a solid force next to

quickly through this,

informs me as the contraction ends and I

in the final parts of it now," he says, patting my

bit when he says this. I have no idea what that could mean - is there trouble in paradise? - but honestly, any of my interest in that question is immediately wiped

rounds, of me huffing and pushing with all of my might during the contractions and then resting, as best I can, in the

but my sister calls encouragement to me and my mate is by my side through

feels like an endless repetition of this pattern, Cora gives

in her

hope in my eyes and she gives me a

will be born, and then it’s easy after

excitedly at Sinclair, happy despite the pain ravaging my body.I wait for the next contraction and, when it comes and Cora tells me to, I push - absolutely as hard as I can, giving a guttural yell while I do in that I hope will help me push

"Oh, his little head!"

I nod, eager, and begin to push again. And push, and push. I gasp, laying back and panting as I feel the contraction end, and I

and moaning at

Where's

asks, suddenly tense next

to stay still and steady, to let the doctor's do their work. Inaction and the passing of responsibility to another - no matter how much they outstrip him in their expertise - has never been his

wants to

"Um,"

"it’s okay, Ella -

exchange glances again, then looking down at the baby. I struggle to sit up, to see the child, but my sister shakes

my eyes

have

and

progress in the past few pushes.

"There is some worry,"

"that because he’s such a large baby, that he could

I gasp,

rigid next

Hank

this with large babies. It’s called shoulder dystocia — we

gasp, confused, baffled,

"What do we -"

okay!" Cora says, though her worried voice