"A baby is God's opinion that life should go on." - Carl Sandburg (For <lj site="livejournal.com" us

[thepainted_lady]

Lydia was normally a very patient, serene sort of person. She didn't get frazzled easily, she dealt well with the foibles of her family and could soothe ruffled feathers and the more...volatile personalities that surrounded her with soft touches and gentle smiles. They depended on her for it, without knowing they did, she sometimes thought, and she played her role of steadier influence to the somewhat frenetic energy of the carnival as Joseph had before her without a murmur. It suited her, and let her bury any of her own turmoil away in soothing routines and find strength in familiarity to bolster an innate fragility she let very few see.

But for the moment, she was done, and for the last couple of weeks had been riding an edge she couldn't quite seem to balance upon. Everything hurt. She was as liable to burst into tears as smile. The first couple of months of her third trimester had been filled with a sense of well-being, for the most part, but while she could capture moments of that here and there, it seemed to have disappeared in a wave of impatience. Also, the frequent Braxton Hicks contractions and cramping had her sending for Sarah, the midwife, enough the past couple of weeks that the poor woman finally just had her trailer moved next to Lydia and Samuel's for the duration.

Of course, after that, Lydia managed to figure out what the fake ones felt like. What? She hadn't been pregnant in 16 years! Your mind made this part foggy, she was sure. Otherwise no one would go through it again and the human race would die out.

With a sigh, she sat back in the chair under the canopy and watched the family going about the day's work. She couldn't help. Couldn't really do anything. Couldn't do her act. Couldn't do chores--because she mostly did the gardening, and she couldn't get down on the ground and back up. She had been helping with dinner, still, but the last week Mrs. Comey had even shooed her away from that. Everyone was fussing, making a big deal, and while that was lovely in small doses, Lydia wasn't used to being, well, useless. But they all kept telling her to rest, so, even though she couldn't even sit comfortably, she was resting.

She'd been having vague cramping since she woke up, but since it had been coming and going for two weeks now, she just shifted and tried to ignore it. It didn't go away, though. In fact...they hadn't stopped all morning. Not too bad, not too close, but consistent. Reaching for her tea, she had to pause as one hit that made her catch her breath. None of them had done that again. It passed, and she started counting. At five minutes, another one hit, just as strong. She counted again. Five minutes, another.

There was a part of her that was almost afraid to move, to call out to any of the myriad family members passing by, either because she'd jinx it, or it would be another false alarm. When her water broke a half hour later, though, she couldn't stop the soft squeak of surprise. She needed to get up, needed to find someone, needed to call out and ask someone to get someone--Samuel, Sarah, someone.

Still looking down at her soaked skirts, she struggled to push out of the chair, then looked up in stunned surprise when a warm hand closed around her elbow to help her. Sylar was there with a wry smile on his lips, and she tried to hide the surprise that grew at the source of help.

"I heard you..." He trailed off, as if he didn't really want to accuse her of squeaking, or wasn't quite sure what to describe that sound as, but she nodded. "Is the baby coming?"

She nodded. "Would you get Samuel for me? And Sarah?"

"Yeah. Let's get you inside first."

She was glad of the help, not sure she could manage even the couple of steps back up into the trailer, especially as another contraction hit, and she bit her lip not to whimper. He waited patiently, then handed her up the steps and in the door.

"Thanks..."

His lips curved into something that was almost a smile, and he nodded, then moved off across the way. She made her way back to the bedroom, stripping it to put down the older sheets and blankets she'd set aside back on instead. That done, she moved back into the main room, determined to stay on her feet as long as she could. Moving helped a bit, plus she was too nervous to sit down, yet. She'd done this in a hospital with Amanda, drugged, and she couldn't help but remember Samuel's warnings about what his mother went through with his birth.

Nerves were only to be expected.

Comments

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

Samuel had seen Sylar coming.

For the last few weeks, his attention span had been spotty at best, his thoughts wandering away from more than one important conversation and shifting to Lydia and their unborn child. The family had gotten used to it, had even expected it maybe, and they had been patient with him, slipping into silence whenever they noticed his attention drifting and simply waiting for him to snap back to reality before continuing on with whatever it was they'd been talking about without missing a beat. Outsiders were a bit less forgiving initially, but he won them back with a candid smile and an apology, and eventually the conversation continued as if nothing had ever happened.

Regardless of how he managed to reel people back in when his mind wandered, however, it still did in spite of his best efforts, and they'd been drifting in Lydia's direction along with his eyes when he spotted him. He raised his eyebrows, glancing back at the carny who had cornered him to discuss getting new parts for one of the rides, and excused himself apologetically, moving to meet the former killer, half-expecting to have to diffuse one situation or another based solely on the way the other man was moving. To his surprise, he didn't have to wheel around to follow him, to talk him down as he passed. To his surprise, Sylar stopped for him.

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans amicably and offered him a ghost of a smile. "Something the matter?"

"Lydia needs you," was all he said before moving away. It was all that really needed to be said, based on the look on his face and the fact that he went on to pick Sarah out of the swarm of people all going about their morning chores.

His stomach twisted, sudden nerves coiling there, and he took a deep breath to steady himself. It didn't particularly help, but it didn't matter, his feet carrying himself to his and Lydia's trailer of their own accord. He tried again when he reached it, half wishing he'd had time to find the Haitian man from the Company and feed him to Sylar before now, just in case, and breathed out a sigh as he let himself in.

He wasn't at all shocked to see Lydia hovering in the tiny living room, and as he closed the door behind him, he said, "You should be in bed."

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Lydia relaxed a little when Samuel arrived, though not completely. There wasn't going to be any complete relaxation for a while, but at least she wasn't alone. She ran a hand through her hair and gave him a small, wry smile.

"I'm going to be spending a great deal of time in bed over the next day. It helps to move around." Or so she'd read. They hadn't let her with Amanda, so she wasn't really sure about that, but she knew walking off pain worked with other sorts--why not contractions?

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

While he'd browsed through a few of Lydia's books in the time she'd been pregnant, he still knew very little about the whole process, so he couldn't say whether or not she was right. That didn't stop him from making a face as he moved to meet her, however, nor did it stop him from from taking one of her hands in his and trying to lead her over to the couch. "Sit down, at least -- just until Sarah gets here."

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

She didn't want to worry him more, so she let him move her to the sofa, pausing in the movement there, fingers tightening around his as a contraction hit. After it eased, she was happy enough to sink down onto the sofa, letting out a huff of a sigh.

"Okay. Maybe just 'til Sarah gets here."

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

"She'll be here soon enough," he promised, the words as much for his own benefit as they were for hers. He brushed his thumb back and forth over the back of her hand, as if the words hadn't been reassurance enough. "Sylar went to go find her after he came for me, and she wasn't far off."

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Lydia nodded a little bit and squeezed his hand, far more gently this time. "There's really nothing for her to do, yet, anyway." She didn't want him fretting unnecessarily. She just hadn't wanted to be alone.

A soft rap on the door announced that Sarah was here, needed or not, and she came in with a bright smile and an air of efficiency. She was a little dusty from chores, but she moved to Lydia's side, sitting down on the sofa. "Sylar didn't say much except that I was needed. How close are the contractions?"

Lydia was glad she didn't ask if she was sure this time. "They've been getting pretty steadily stronger all morning. I'd say they're about five minutes apart now, and my water broke right before I sent Sylar for the two of you."

Sarah nodded and got up, moving to the kitchen to scrub her hands at the sink. "Let's take a quick look, then, to see how dilated you are. Five minutes is thresholdish for active labor, but you just got there, so..."

Lydia felt her stomach flutter with nerves again, and clung a bit to Samuel's hand as she pushed back up to her feet to head to the bedroom.

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

Samuel flashed Sarah a thin, vaguely nervous smile by way of greeting and got to his feet hurriedly so that he could help Lydia to hers. He squeezed her hand lightly, forced himself to take another deep breath in spite of the fact that it had done very little for him thus far, and put an arm around her, guiding her towards the bedroom.

Sarah was good at this sort of thing -- it was in her blood -- and so far, nothing odd had happened, no tremors in the earth as when he had been born or spouts of flame, so he tried to tell himself it would be alright. That, however, didn't seem to help much either, unfortunately.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

His worry and nervousness were blatantly apparent, even if she hadn't been touching him, and Lydia tried to murmur something soothing, as she squeezed his hand. "It's okay," she added, giving him a little smile. "Women have been doing this every day for thousands of years..."

Possibly that was as much for herself as for him.

"They have," Sarah agreed, giving them both a smile as she reached to help Samuel get Lydia settled on the bed.

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

He allowed the both of them another wan smile, though this one was as much embarrassment as it was nerves. "Maybe they have, but this happens to be my first. I think a little dose of the jitters is to be expected, don't you?"

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Lydia smiled a bit back at him. "It is. For both of us..." Her hand was trembling a little in his, honestly, as calm an exterior as she was putting on.

Sarah smoothed a hand through her hair, then glanced at Samuel. "I won't let anything happen to either of them."

She eased back, letting Lydia cling to Samuel's hand as she lifted her skirts and did a preliminary check. Once finished, she sat back and shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, including both of them in her quick summary. "You're not quite at four centimeters, yet, so I'd say even though this is your second, you've still got a few hours. So, I'm going to go grab a shower and some food, after being in the garden and before we settle in for the long haul. I'd suggest you do the same." She glanced at Samuel. "Try and get her to eat at least something? Probably something light--but she's going to need the energy."

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

"I will," he answered, his mind already running the gamut of things he could put together with relative ease. If it was a long list, however, it was easy to narrow it down at least a bit, based on what he actually had in the trailer and what he could do on his own. The family would always be there for them, and they'd be more than willing to jump into action now if he asked them, but he didn't want to stray too far from Lydia, didn't want to have to leave the trailer for fear that something would happen in his absence or that she would simply need him.

He brushed his thumb over the back of her hand again, and offered her another thin smile. "I'll help you to the shower, and I'll have something ready for you as soon's you're out."

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Sarah gave them both a final searching look, then murmured something about being back in just a jiffy before heading out. She really did want to get the dust and grime from chores thoroughly off of her, and something to eat would be more than welcome, but they could use a little time to prepare, as well, and she didn't want to intrude.

Lydia's nerves spiked again with Sarah's absence but in truth for all that the contractions were certainly making themselves known, they weren't close enough together to truly make her worry something would go wrong before the midwife got back. She gave Samuel a smile, attempting to hide her nervousness, and slid back to the edge of the bed, leaning on him to stand. "Thank you. I know she's right that I should eat, but it seems almost ridiculous to be thinking of it at a time like this..." She certainly wasn't hungry, but she was willing to do whatever was best for her and the baby.

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

"I know," he said softly, sympathetically, tracing his fingers over the back of her hand again. "But she has a fair point -- you'll need the energy for all that's to come. You don't want to be worn out before we're through, and it's not as if I'm going to make you a feast. Just something -- something small. Something that'll help get you through the paces."

Fruit, definitely. Maybe a little bit of toast and an egg, for the carbohydrates and protien and the energy they provided. Just a small little breakfast, as Sarah had suggested. He only hoped she would eat it -- or at least eat a bit of everything to keep her strength up.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

She nodded in agreement, giving him a smile. "Okay."

She clung to him a bit as a contraction hit, breathing through it, fingers tightening on his hand, the little flutter of fear there again, though she covered it as well as she could.

"I'll...try to make that a quick shower, I think," she said with a rueful smile, when it had passed.

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

He nodded and turned into her a bit more, his fingers touching to her cheek then her hair lightly, offering wordless reassurance, then turned away again, tugging her towards the bathroom gently. He stopped once they'd actually gotten there, pulling away entirely, and stepped out of the way so that she could slip past him through the tiny door into the even smaller bathroom.

"Take how ever long you need, Lydia. I'll still be here when you get out, and so will breakfast."

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Quick would still be better, she thought, lest she end up losing her balance if the contractions came quicker or whatever, but she nodded. Appreciating the reassurance, and the fact that he was taking time to help her, she gave him a smile, moving past him into the tiny space.

As much as she was looking forward to the arrival of their daughter, at this point she was almost equally excited about having her body back. The constant changes were miraculous on one hand--on the other, she sometimes felt like she wasn't herself anymore, and never moreso than when trying to do things that used to be so simple before.

Still, she managed the small space and reminded herself that it wouldn't be so cramped the next time she took a shower, because she'd no longer feel like a whale. That in mind she stripped and got under the warm water, letting it relax her the best she could.

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

Samuel lingered by the door for a few moments, his thumb caught between his teeth, listening, waiting for her to call out to him or worse. When nothing came, however, and she seemed to be settled in the shower, he forced himself to move, retreating back into the kitchen to start making breakfast.

In the end, he forewent making the eggs as he had planned, settling instead on yogurt along with the fruit and toast he'd considered originally. He set it all out on a plate on the table and leaned back against the counter, trying to keep calm as he waited for Lydia to return.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

She didn't need to be touching Samuel anymore to know that he was still nervous, and she didn't want to add to that, so she maneuvered the best she could to hurry the shower along, while not rushing either. The water felt good, comforting, and she let it run over her, refreshing her a little, at least.

Another contraction did hit while she was in there but she weathered it with a whimper, clutching at the bar in the shower until it passed and she could straighten up again. She hurried after that, easing out of the shower and drying off, wrapping up in a little robe before she came out into the main room again.

"All done."

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

He offered her a smile in spite of his anxiousness and moved to meet her, offering his arm again for support. "So am I -- breakfast's waiting on the table, as promised."

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Lydia tucked her arm through his, glad of the steadying presence and gave him a smile. "Thank you." She still wasn't hungry, too nervous she thought to eat, but she knew it was important and she wasn't going to argue with him or with Sarah. She was glad to see it was light, though, and nothing she didn't think she couldn't force down.

His anxiousness was still apparent, though, and she ran a soothing hand up and down his arm, even as she moved to the table. "It's going to be okay, Samuel."

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

He pulled away when they reached the table, moving around it to slide into the seat opposite the one he expected her to take, and allowed her a smile, this one vaguely embarrassed. "So I've been told."

He believed the reassurances he'd gotten from both her and Sarah to a point, too. He was sure their child would be fine, all fingers and toes accounted for and so on, but he couldn't help but worry about Lydia. His mother had been alright, even with the scene he'd made coming into this world, but suppose their daughter decided to come into life in the same way? Suppose her power was more volatile than even his had been, surrounded by specials as he'd been? What if she hurt Lydia? Killed her? What if she destroyed parts of the carnival and hurt others? He'd been a special case, true, but ... there was still that chance. It was in her genetics, after all.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Lydia sat down with a sigh. Getting back up would be not as easy, but soon that would go back to normal, too. She probably should stop focusing so much on all of that but it was hard.

She reached for his hand again, even as she picked up a piece of fruit to nibble on before she had to be told. "So far nothing untoward has happened," she pointed out. "Everything's going along perfectly normally."

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

Nothing had happened yet. He kept that to himself as best he could, however, trying to keep her from reading that doubt in him without shutting her out completely. It was ridiculous to worry, he knew -- if something did happen, it would happen with or without him -- but he couldn't help it.

He laced his fingers with her, sighing faintly, and nodded. "Alright, Lydia."

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

The doubt was apparent even without touching him, but she wasn't sure what else she could do to reassure him, especially as another contraction hit and her fingers tightened convulsively and with surprising strength on his.

She tried to remember to breathe, but it was sort of hard. "Okay...that one was bad..." she said when it was over, though she figured that wasn't the most reassuring thing to say. Still--it was just a normal pain, not anything out of the ordinary. It was coming back to her now, through the mists that memory pulled over 16 years.

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

He tightened his fingers around hers reflexively, though without quite as much strength as she had displayed, and rested his other hand on top of hers. "Sarah'll be back shortly." Not that that would help much with the pain, he was sure, but maybe she could help hurry the process along somehow so that Lydia wouldn't have to be hurting for too terribly long.