"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 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.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

She nodded a little, her heartbeat pounding with the breathlessness of the pain that left her a little light-headed. "I think that's good. They seem to be speeding up..." Which didn't mean it would be that quick, really, but they did say second babies came faster.

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

Humming, he brushed his fingers over the back of her hand lightly, not sure what else he could say or do at the moment. He'd already assured her that Sarah would be along shortly, the thought he had about offering to get her an aspirin was out of the question, and telling her gently to eat her breakfast seemed foolish and a bit cold, given how pained she looked. And so, at something of a loss for the first time in as long as he could remember, he just held onto her hand, watching her silently, his face schooled into some semblance of calm if only for her sake.

[helpsthemiracle.livejournal.com]

Lydia gave him a smile as she nibbled on her breakfast, glad he was working on being calm, and relaxed even more as Sarah bustled back into the trailer after a perfunctory knock, looking much refreshed and carrying a bag.

She smiled in approval to see Lydia eating, and seemed to sense that Samuel could probably use something to do--it was good to give men things to do, in her experience. That or kick them out to pace elsewhere or they just became a hindrance and a bother. Pulling a stopwatch out of her bag, she handed it over to him.

"We need to check how far apart her contractions are, and how long they're lasting," she told him. "I don't want to rush her into anything before she's ready." Though given that she was all for as natural a process as possible, there wasn't much to rush her toward. The baby would come when the baby would come and there was only so much anyone could do about it.

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

He took the stopwatch from her and looked down at it dubiously, catching his tongue between his teeth briefly, before letting it go. He looked up at Lydia, then glanced to Sarah. "I'll start timing it next time she has a contraction. I don't quite think it's in anyone's interests to start the clock now, in between."

[helpsthemiracle.livejournal.com]

Sarah nodded easily. That was what she'd meant. "Approximately how long ago was the last one?" she asked Lydia.

Lydia thought and shrugged a little, "Less than five minutes. They've been coming faster."

"Good."

Lydia was a little doubtful about the measure of good in that, except for the part where she wanted the baby out of her, but she really wasn't looking forward to the next few hours and her look at Sarah said as much.

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

He'd figured as much, but he had wanted to clarify without actually asking and making a fool of himself. Now that he had, he set to watching Lydia, one thumb still dragging over her skin absently, the other on the button that would start the stopwatch when she had another contraction. It was all he could really do while the women were going back and forth, talking.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Lydia wasn't sure how to ease his worry and take care of her own at the same time, though that was her inclination, as usual--take care of him somehow. She kept a hold of his hand, either way, wanting that contact and connection, and eventually her grip tightened on his as a contraction hit, making her gasp, and Sarah gave him an encouraging nod, even as she tried to get Lydia to breathe.


[ooc: lol....we can totally narrate/speed this along instead of tag by tag/action by action?]

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

"It's alright," he murmured, as if he could sense her need to reassure him just as well as she could feel his lingering nerves. To what he felt was his credit, though, his own uneasiness was fading now that Sarah was here and he had something to do. He still had a few worries, mainly centered around what would happen when she went into proper labor, but he was at least making progress, and they weren't distracting enough to keep him from starting the stopwatch when that next contraction hit.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

The next few hours seemed to go in a blur and wave for Lydia. More than once she wondered just what she'd been thinking doing this at home and with no medication. It hurt--God did it hurt--but Sarah was there to talk her through it, and she rarely let go of Samuel's hand, even when Sarah made her get up and walk around. That helped, the movement, both in managing the pain and speeding things along.

By the time it was time to push, she was more than ready, and cursing more than a little bit, but Sarah would assure her later that everything went smoothly and fairly easily. It devolved into a haze where she did what she was told and prayed to someone that it would be over, even as she tried to keep from worrying Samuel too much.

Then it was done, and she waited anxiously for the few seconds until she heard the baby cry. Sarah had her, but Lydia could feel the waves of exhaustion and relief start.

"It's a girl."

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

When it was all over, Samuel pulled his hand back away from Lydia's, reaching to brush his fingers through her hair and trying to keep his own relief to himself. He didn't want to overwhelm her, not when she looked so spent, and he was half certain that all that weight coming off his shoulders at once would have done just that, so he was at least trying to be careful.

"She's beautiful," he said after a moment, when he reopened his eyes after closing them a moment before.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Lydia leaned back against the pillows, anxious to see her daughter and a yet a little too tired to even think about sitting up and reaching for her. She sent Samuel a pleased smile, his words a relief. His relief was palpable even without touching him, mingling with hers, but for the moment she was glad he'd withdrawn just a little. She did feel raw, exposed, inside and out.

The feeling didn't go away when Sarah brought the infant to her, laying her in her arms, so Lydia could look at her the first time. She shivered, holding back the gasp at the flood of...confusion almost, and exhaustion. She supposed, then, that if giving birth was hard, being born had to be pretty damn traumatizing, and she snuggled her daughter close.

"It's okay," she murmured. "You're here, and safe, and your Daddy and I are not going to let anything hurt to you..."

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

Samuel brought a hand up to his mouth and brushed his thumb over his lower lip, his other hand still nested in Lydia's hair, trying to figure out what was going on in her head. It didn't occur to him to think that she could read their daughter, though he was perceptive enough to notice the shiver, at least, and it had struck him as odd. Something beyond just seeing her for the first time.

Thoughts of figuring out what, exactly, he was missing evaporated when she called him Daddy, however, pride and joy replacing any worry he might have had, a dumb smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Daddy. He was a daddy. Wouldn't Joseph have been surprised, if he were with them now.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

The two of them were at odds in their emotional relationship--the baby seeking some comfort, though she seemed to like Lydia's voice, to recognize it somehow, and Samuel so happy. Her own joy and relief more matched his, but she still settled in to trying to reassure the infant in her arms, even as she let herself sink a bit more into the pillows and Samuel's touch. She glanced up at him finally, catching the smile on his face, and found herself echoing it.

"She's perfect. And a little confused by all the...strangeness. She's seeing for the first time. We've just been voices to her before now..." Even if they were still probably blurry to her--Lydia wasn't really sure how quickly eyesight sharpened or anything.

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

He glanced between the two of them, faint surprise registering on his face and under his skin. The fact that she could sense their child's emotions shouldn't have come as a shock, but he'd be lying if he said it didn't for whatever reason. "You can feel what she's feeling?"

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Lydia nodded a little, watching him, then felt her gaze dragged back to the baby. "More than I've ever felt anyone..." Even Amanda, which probably wasn't that big of a surprise. She'd been all of sixteen when she'd given birth to Amanda, her ability still in its own infancy of manifestation. Now there was a wall ringing between them, one she didn't know fully how to breach. She could breach it with touch, use her ability in an active sense, but there wasn't this easy flow.

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

Samuel continued to study the both of them for a moment, then offered Lydia a crooked smile, dropping his hand away from his mouth so she could see it. "I have to say, Lydia ... I might be more than a little jealous."