"Great! I have turned into a whale!" she said to herself, aloud, and then tried again. She could not get up, and as another strong contraction hit her, drove her back down into the bowels of the chair, she began to feel frightened. Her back was aching terribly now, and she knew that she needed to get upstairs and into bed.
Upstairs William was tossing in his sleep. When he rolled over to place his arm around Mary, he encountered empty space. Opening his eyes slowly and seeing that she wasn't there, he lay back and tried to put his thoughts together. It was then that he heard Mary screaming his name. Her voice high and shrill in the quiet sleepy house, grated with fear.
"WILLIAM!" cried Mary as she continued to struggle to get up off the chair; she stopped to pant during pains losing the ground she had gained. In a panicked corner of her mind, she knew that if someone did not come to help her soon she would have the baby there in the chair, and she did not like that idea much. As soon as the contraction stopped, she screamed, "WILLIAM!"
"Mary?" He charged down the narrow staircase and rushed into the parlor. "What's wrong? Why are you screaming that way?"
"Get me upstairs. Quick!" Mary panted. "The baby is coming!"
Her forehead was damp with sweat, and her eyes were filled with panic as they locked with his sleepy ones, and for a moment he stood watching her. Paralyzed and unable to move, William didn't know what to do.
"Now, William!" Her fingernails dug into his arm. "Get me upstairs, now!"
Scooping her damp body up into his arms, William half ran to the stairs. He did not like the sound of her voice, and it made him nervous to hear her scream like that. She was usually calm during her labor, and stoic about her resolve not to cry out. Moreover, just as he entered the bedroom, Mary still in his arms as her water broke.
She let out a muffled scream against his chest. Laying her on the bed, her face now running with sweat, her brows knit together in concentration and pain, she fought to catch her breath as a particularly huge contraction gripped her and she struggled to ride the crest.
"I ... have ... to push!" she screamed, and bore down with the pain. "It's coming ... I can feel it coming!"
William slipped to the foot of the bed, and then reached forward so that his hands could pull her forward. A calming wave hit him as he realized he knew what to do. She held tightly to his hands, and within moments, William's hands were cramping from the terrifying force of her grip. He did not tell her though, and when the next contraction hit her, he helped her sit again.
Her face contorted with pain as William helped her to push. He knew that she would have to do the work, and that he could do little more than be there for her now. As each new contraction gripped her she cried out, and it made him feel helpless watching her. Finally, he could see the baby coming, its tiny head crowning. He moved between her trembling legs and as she gave three more huge pushes the baby was born.
"It's a boy!" he announced as he wrapped the crying infant within the soft warmth of a clean towel. "Hi, James," he said, before passing the infant into Mary is waiting arms.
)
