Headers and Notes in Part 1

Part 10 of 12


Georgetown University Medical Center
Georgetown, D.C.
Labor & Delivery 
May 12, 2001
3:30 pm


Her labor had finally started to progress, rather quickly actually, for 
which Scully was eternally grateful.  She was exhausted, both mentally 
and physically, and wanted the baby out – to finally see her child at 
long last, and so that she could get some much-needed sleep.  

Now in transition, her last exam had shown she was eight centimeters 
dilated.  Her contractions were roughly two minutes apart, steadily 
increasing in intensity, and she was no longer comfortable standing or 
walking.  Fortunately, the intermittent attacks of uncontrollable 
shivering, or 'the shakes' as the nurses had pragmatically termed them, 
had not lasted long.  Those had been unnerving for both she and Mulder.

Mulder.

He had become an unbelievable tower of strength.  Somewhere in between 
the babbling, nervous wreck he had been back at her apartment after she 
had told him her water had broke, the traffic jam on the way, and 
arriving at the hospital to be admitted around 10:30 am, he had done a 
complete 180.  He was calm, supportive, and not at all offended 
whenever she got grumpy and started calling him every bad name she had 
ever heard.  And he took it in stride when her grip on his hand became 
bruising, teasing her with comical winces and expressions of pain. 

She apologized after each round of course, and he merely kissed her 
forehead or stroked her hair, or fed her ice chips.

He had left the room a few minutes ago on an ice run, and her mother 
had come in to keep her company.  She was regaling Scully with her own 
childbirth experiences, although keeping her stories light and 
cheerful.  Scully knew better however, she had heard many a time how 
her mother had been in labor for 36 hours for Bill's birth, and 
anywhere from 12 to 18 hours for Melissa's, hers' and Charlie's births.

Thankfully that did not seem like it would be the case for this 
particular birth.  

Another contraction was already building, coiling from deep inside, 
radiating out from her lower back.  Tensing up was an automatic 
instinct, and Scully forced herself to relax, to breathe slowly and 
deeply.  But her clasp on the hand in hers remained tight, and she 
caught the wince her mother did not or could not conceal.
 
Scully sent a silent apology with her eyes, unable to speak in her 
fierce concentration, and her mother smiled gently, giving her hand a 
squeeze in return.  She also panted along with her, and in the back of 
Scully's mind it was rather comical to see her do so.

They huffed together through the contraction, and both of them sighed 
in relief when it was finally over.  Scully released her mother's hand, 
frowning in sympathy and regret as her mother rubbed it with her other 
fingers.

"Dana?"  It was Traci, one of her nurses, speaking softly.  She had 
quietly approached on soft-soled shoes, and reached out to touch 
Scully's arm gently.  "I need to check you again, okay?"

Scully nodded, and rolled with care onto her back.  She had earlier 
found it much more comfortable to lie on her side, rotating from one to 
the other every so often, with Mulder or her mother adjusting the 
pillow along her spine when she did so.  But she could not be examined 
that way, so she had to move.

Her mother smoothed her hand along Scully's forehead and said, "I'll 
wait outside and be right back, honey."

With her blanket-clad knees now up and her legs spread, Scully could 
not see her mother exit the room.  However, she did hear the soft swish 
of the door as it opened and closed.  Her mother had left the room each 
and every time a nurse or Dr. Newall had come in, despite Scully's 
protestations that it was unnecessary for her to leave.  

Scully stared up at the ceiling, studying the stained spot on one tile 
that she decided vaguely resembled the boot of Italy, and grimaced 
slightly as Traci's capable hands carried out their task.  It wasn't 
painful exactly, but it was not pleasant either.

The door swished open again, and then she heard a gasp that was 
distinctly Mulder's.  One of either embarrassment or shock.  "Oh, geez, 
Scully, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed next.  "I...uh...I'll just wait 
outside."

"Mulder!" she called, smiling despite the discomfort of the examination 
between her legs.  "It's all right.  Come in, you don't have to leave."

After the number of people who had walked in her room, including a male 
janitor and two lost candy stripers, Scully was fairly certain both 
John and Walter, and all three Gunmen, could walk in right there and 
then, and she wouldn't care.  Dignity had been thrown out the window 
after the first examination had been carried out with two medical 
students in attendance.

She could almost sense the hesitation in Mulder's steps as he proceeded 
into the room, and a second later he was at her side, studiously 
ignoring what was going on below her waist.  She was tempted to remind 
him he had seen it all before, particularly up close and way more 
personally, but held back.  She didn't want to mock the fact that he 
was being considerate of any feelings of shame regarding her exposure, 
despite the fact she had none whatsoever right now.  Instead, she 
smiled at him.

"Hey, Scully," he said, the corners of his lips lifting in a smile of 
his own.  One hand came up to stroke through her hair.  "How are you 
doing?"

Before she could reply, Traci was gently removing each of her legs from 
the stirrups.  She readjusted the covers after, and then looked up to 
smile at Scully.  "Nine centimeters," she reported.  "You're doing 
wonderfully.  I'll be back in a little bit, okay?"

It was just after Traci left the room that things went wild.

An alarm rang stridently.  Loudly.

The door flew open, Traci running back into the room.  The next thing 
Scully knew, her bed was slanted at a 20-degree angle, with her head 
lower than her legs, and an oxygen mask had been strapped on her face.  
She was aware of more people entering the room, and through her 
mounting fear, Scully could hear Dr. Newall being paged to Labor and 
Delivery STAT.

Her hands came up and she clutched at Mulder as he leaned over her, 
staring wild-eyed and panicked into her face.  

***

3:40 pm


Mulder yawned widely, his jaws cracking with the effort, and rubbed at 
his eyes before reaching out to open the ice machine for another refill 
of ice chips.  He could not believe how tired he was.  He who had often 
sat on 14 to 16-hour stakeouts, or traipsed through dense forest on 
elusive quests with unflagging energy and zeal, was exhausted from 
watching Scully struggle to bring forth their child.

Whoever had termed the process of childbirth as 'labor' had done so 
aptly.  He now had a newfound greater respect not only for Scully, but 
also for all women who had borne children, or planned to.

On his return journey down the hallway back to Scully's room, large 
Styrofoam cup of ice chips in one hand, he saw Mrs. Scully exit the 
room.  The dark-haired woman paused briefly, arching her back into her 
palms in a mini-stretch, and then moved off, away from Mulder.  She had 
apparently not seen him approaching.  Mulder knew she was as tired as 
he, so he did not call out to her.

Nearing the door, he attempted to shake off the lethargic feeling that 
was close to overwhelming him.  Scully did not need to see him dragging 
his ass while she was the one doing all the work.  Plastering a 
pleasant, 'supportive man' expression on his face, he headed in.

And then stopped dead in his tracks, his breath escaping in a noisy, 
grunt-like gasp.

At some point in his sordid, pornographic-filled past, and with Scully 
now in his life he hadn't needed his movies, magazines or 1-900 calls 
for some time, something like this had once been one of his fantasies.  
Okay, it still was a fantasy; just one he knew had absolutely zero 
chance of being fulfilled.  But this was not quite how he had pictured 
it happening.

"Oh, geez, Scully, I'm sorry!" he managed to get out, feeling like the 
bumbling fool of earlier that morning.  Why hadn't he knocked first?  
Or realized this was why Mrs. Scully had left the room without waiting 
for him to return?  The two of them had made a pact when Scully had 
first been admitted, to not leave her alone if it could be at all 
avoided.  "I...uh...I'll just wait outside."

"Mulder!"  Scully called to him, her voice sounding a little strained.  

And who could blame her?  That brief glimpse he had gotten before he 
had averted his eyes had shown that whatever the nurse was doing was 
definitely not pleasant.

"It's all right," she continued.  "Come in, you don't have to leave."

Oh, but Scully, I would really rather leave, he thought.  At least 
until the nurse was finished.  He'd come right back in then.  Before, 
when either Dr. Newall or one of the nurses, usually the very friendly 
and helpful Traci, had examined Scully, he'd already been in the room, 
and had kept himself distracted from the goings-on by amusing Scully.
But walking in while one was in progress was very different, and much 
harder to ignore.  Why the hell did they have the foot of the bed 
pointed directly at the door?  The door through which an odd assortment 
of people had already entered on several occasions.

He walked stiff-legged to the head of the bed, focusing his eyes on her 
face, and her face alone.  "Hey, Scully," he said, seeing her smile at 
him.  That was enough to make him smile; forgetting all about what he 
had unintentionally interrupted.  He lifted his free hand to run it 
through her hair, still amazingly silky soft and rather neat, despite 
the workout she had been through so far.

The incredibly amazing, rapid-fire sound of the baby's heartbeat, loud 
in the small room, caught his attention yet again, and he looked away 
from her face for a minute to glance at the fetal monitor.  The heart 
rate ebbed and flowed with each of Scully's contractions, and had a 
reassuring and hypnotic quality that held him rapt.  He remained in awe 
of the sound, could not stop himself from thinking every so often 
'That's our baby'.  

Movement from the foot of the bed had him shifting his gaze again, 
pulling his attention from the monitor, to see that Traci was 
apparently finished.  She had put Scully's legs back down and was 
adjusting the blankets.

The nurse smiled then and said, "Nine centimeters.  You're doing 
wonderfully.  I'll be back in a little bit, okay?"

She left the room, and all hell broke loose.

The alarm that was now sounding drowned out the fetal monitor, and had 
his own heart rate skyrocketing.  He dropped the cup of ice chips and 
crammed himself against the bed, leaning over Scully, meeting her eyes.  
She looked as frightened as he felt, and her hands came up to grab at 
him. 

Traci came flying back in, followed by two other nurses, and in seconds 
they had Scully's bed cranked to some weird position, so that her legs 
were now elevated higher than her head, and someone had slipped an 
oxygen mask over her mouth and nose.  He was aware of Dr. Newall being 
paged, and knew from the word 'STAT' that something was very wrong.

Traci came up to Scully on the other side of the bed, leaning over to 
quickly say, "Dana, the baby's heart rate dropped.  But I need you to 
stay calm for me, okay?"

At those words, Mulder's heart nearly stopped.  The room and the world 
itself warped into some strange, distorted reality, where time had 
slowed and felt oddly unreal.  When Scully's nails dug into his flesh, 
he welcomed the pain, for it brought him back to himself.

He shuddered, and made himself look to where the medical staff had 
huddled between Scully's spread legs, back in the stirrups.  Dr. Newall 
had come in at some point, unseen by him, and was rapping out orders 
with the skill and precision of a drill sergeant.

Traci came back to the head of the bed after what seemed like forever, 
but was probably actually only a minute, and leaned over, one hand 
stroking Scully's hair back from her forehead.  "Dana, the baby was in 
distress, but he or she is fine now.  When you rolled over onto your 
back, somehow the umbilical cord was being compressed, cutting off the 
blood flow, which lowered the baby's blood pressure and heart rate.  
We're going to monitor you both quite carefully from here on in."  She 
gently removed the oxygen mask, and a moment later was slowly lowering 
the bed back into normal position.  

Dr. Newall had come to stand beside Traci.

Scully was still breathing rather rapidly, as was he, and her face had 
not yet regained its usual color.  "Are you sure?" she panted out, 
looking from Traci to Dr. Newall.  Mulder did the same, scrutinizing 
both their faces for any telltale signs of worry.

"I'm sure, Dana," Traci said softly.  "Everything is just fine."

"It is, Dana," Dr. Newall said.  "That was quite a scare, but I'm 
confident if we keep you on your side, the problem will be avoided."  
She smiled and then said,  "You're progressing quite nicely, almost at 
10 centimeters.  I don't think it will be much longer now."  She patted 
Scully's leg and said, "I wont be far."  With that, the doctor left the 
room.

His legs went rubbery with relief, and he was glad he had the support 
of the bed to keep him upright.

"Let's get you on your side, okay?" Traci said then.

Scully sucked in a shaky, noisy, deep breath and blew it out, then 
nodded her head.  Mulder helped the nurse roll Scully onto her right 
side, facing him, and Traci tucked the pillow in behind her.

A contraction started, and while he breathed with Scully, Traci rubbed 
her back and talked her through it.

Scully's face pinkened with her efforts as her hand tightened on his.  
Her mouth was twisted in a grimace, and he imagined her teeth grinding 
together.  Softly he said, "Doing great, Scully."  He inhaled and 
exhaled with her and then continued his hopefully soothing patter with,  
"Breathe, baby.  In and out, that's it."

When the contraction was over, Traci said she'd be right back, and left 
the room.  Scully licked her lips, and Mulder looked ruefully down at 
the mess of ice chips on the floor, wishing he had some to offer her.  
There was no way he was leaving her side again, unless physically 
pulled away.  And it would take quite a few big, burly men to do so.

At that moment Mrs. Scully came in, and over to stand beside him.  She 
was as pale as Scully had been, her eyes worried.  "Fox?  Dana?  Is 
everything okay?  I heard them page Dr. Newall while I was walking, and 
when I hurried back here, they wouldn't let me come in."

"We're okay, Mom," Scully said, in a tired-sounding voice.

Mulder added, "The baby was in distress, but Traci said everything's 
fine now, and that they're monitoring them both very carefully."  He 
looked down at the mess again, kicking some of the slushy mess to the 
side with his foot.  "Mrs. Scully?" he asked.  "Would you mind grabbing 
some more ice chips for Sc...Dana?  I dropped the cup."

"Of course, dear," she said.  She touched Scully's fingers, and then 
left on her mission.

Scully had released his hand when the contraction ended, and he brought 
it up to cup her face, his thumb moving caressingly along her 
cheekbone.  He knew he probably shouldn't talk about it, but he 
couldn't help it.  "Jesus, Scully," he said, and then stopped, his body 
going cold as he remembered the stark fear he had experienced.

"I know," she whispered, and let out a shaky breath.  He watched her 
eyes start to water, and then as she squeezed them shut.

"Oh, baby, shhhh," he crooned.  He leaned down until his forehead was 
touching hers lightly.  "I'm sorry.  It's okay.  The baby's fine, 
you're okay."

"Oh, God, Mulder," she gritted out.

"I know, baby, it's okay.  Shhhh," he said again.

"No, Mulder," she said.  "I meant...OHHHHHH!...Oh God, here's another 
contraction!"  Her voice rose on the end, and her hand scrambled for 
his, squeezing with the most strength by far.

"That was pretty quick, wasn't it?" he asked, his own voice a little 
high and breathless.  She really had a strong grip.

"Uhhhh..." was her only answer.

***

3:55 pm


The latest contraction had completely sapped the remainder of her 
strength, coming right on the heels of such a fearful, adrenaline-
surging incident.

Her mind, however, remained very active.  

The problems earlier in her pregnancy, then later the cramping and 
spotting after Mulder had returned, and the most recent of all – the 
partial abruption – had all been frightening, in varying degrees.  But 
when the alarm had gone off her panic had been immeasurable.  And then 
when she had heard those words 'the baby's heart rate dropped', Scully 
had thought her own heart would stop.  

Now, as Mulder rubbed his thumb over her cheek and stared at her with 
eyes that still held traces of his panic, she understood why the nurses 
and Dr. Newall had reacted with such speed, changing the positioning of 
her bed and slipping the oxygen mask on without word or explanation, 
but at the time, their actions had been absolutely terrifying.  For 
both she and Mulder.

She felt completely drained now, and so very, very thirsty.  Yet the 
thought of drinking made her nauseous, and had since her labor had 
begun in earnest, which was why she had been consuming ice chips at a 
surprising rate.  Her mother had not yet returned with another refill.

"Jesus, Scully," Mulder said then.

That was all, but she understood exactly what he was trying to convey, 
knew exactly how he felt.  "I know," she whispered to him, and breathed 
out shakily.  Tears had been hovering, on the brink of welling, and now 
they did, stinging her eyes.  She squeezed them tightly shut, to stop 
the tears from falling, and to ease the sting.

"Oh, baby, shhhh," Mulder murmured with such tenderness that if she had 
not already been in tears, she would have cried.  His forehead touched 
hers as he leaned over her, and he continued with,  "I'm sorry.  It's 
okay.  The baby's fine, you're okay."

The staccato sound of their baby's rapid heartbeat was a background 
noise under his soothing patter, as the next contraction began to 
build, so soon after the last one.

"Oh, God, Mulder," she got out through achingly tight, clenched teeth.  
There was a new feeling to this contraction, a pressure of sorts on her 
rectum.  It left her with the urge to bear down.  To push.

"I know, baby, it's okay.  Shhhh," he said again.

"No, Mulder," she said.  "I meant...OHHHHHH!...Oh God, here's another 
contraction!"  Her voice sounded high and breathless to her own ears, 
rising even more at the end of her sentence.  She needed to hold onto 
something, and she searched blindly for his hand.  Finding it, she 
clasped his fingers with an iron grip, knowing she was probably 
squashing them painfully.

"That was pretty quick, wasn't it?" Mulder asked, the tight, high, 
pained tone of his voice confirming that she was indeed close to 
crushing them.  She could also hear a touch of fear and excitement in 
his words.

Their baby was coming.

She could only respond with, "Uhhhh..." unable to say any more than 
that.  She very briefly flicked her gaze to his eyes, and then returned 
it to his nose.  It was her focal point, for she had found staring into 
his eyes, at all the emotions there, to be too much of a distraction.

Mulder's voice was soft as he coached her through the contraction, 
uttering gentle commands.  "Breathe, Scully.  That's it." 

His voice was not a distraction.  It was very welcomed, and needed.  It 
helped her to keep focused.  It was also a relief, and a reminder, that 
he was actually there with her.  For the one thing she had feared so 
very much during his abduction and his hospitalization was that he 
would not be able to see the birth of their child, and that she would 
have to go through it without him.  Alone.

Mulder's free hand was stroking her forehead and through her hair, over 
and over again, slowly and rhythmically.  The motion was also very 
welcomed, and extremely soothing.  She thought about his other hand, 
how his fingers had to be feeling, and she loosened her grip slightly, 
hoping it helped.  She caught a glimpse of his lips moving into a 
smile, and knew it had.

Scully was vaguely aware of the door opening, and the sounds of 
footsteps.  A second later she heard Traci's gentle voice commenting, 
"Well, you certainly are moving along, aren't you?  I'd say you're 
definitely in transition and fully dilated now."  More footsteps, and 
then the nurse was at Scully's other side, her hands rubbing Scully's 
lower back.  "That's it, Dana.  Breathe and try to relax.  Don't clench 
your jaw.  Relax it.  Remember that causes your pelvic floor to relax?"

If she'd had any spare energy, and was not deep in the midst of a 
contraction, she would have laughed as the memory of Mulder asking her 
about kegel exercises popped into her head.  She had explained that 
they were beneficial for both during and after the birth of the baby, 
and he had teasingly asked for a demonstration.  This had been before 
they had been advised to abstain from sex, and she had grabbed him and 
dragged him into her bedroom to show him one of the benefits of kegels, 
one that had nothing to do with birthing a baby.

"Uh-huh," Scully groaned.  "I remember."  That strange feeling near her 
rectum was increasing, and she shifted restlessly, wanting to sit up, 
to draw her legs up towards her chest.  And push.  She huffed a few 
times, and then panted out, "I feel...like I need...to push."

"I'll get Dr. Newall," Traci said.  Rapid footsteps and another swish 
of the door signaled her exit.

***

4:15 pm


Scully was incredible.

The thought was continually in Mulder's head, and he had told her, and 
anyone who would listen, that same thing repeatedly in the last little 
while.  In return, he received the ghost of smiles from Scully as she 
huffed and panted her way through her contractions, and tender, amused 
ones from Mrs. Scully, who remained in the room, but on the fringes.  
Close by if her daughter needed her, but out of the way of the nurses 
and Dr. Newall.

Speaking of Dr. Newall, he lifted his head to look down at the foot of 
the bed, to where she sat on her little rolling stool parked between 
Scully's bent legs.  The altered bed, he amended.  

Once Traci had returned with Dr. Newall on her heels, and the doctor 
had done another internal exam, confirming that Scully was indeed fully 
effaced and dilated, they had done the most interesting thing to her 
bed.  A good section of the bottom of it had been dropped out of the 
way, so that basically, Scully's rear end was now right at the edge of 
the mattress.  

Her right foot was in the appropriate stirrup, but because of what had 
happened when she had lain flat on her back, she remained partly on her 
right side.  That meant it was physically impossible for her left foot 
to reach the other stirrup.  One of the other nurses, Mary, had the job 
of holding Scully's left leg up for her.

He himself was perched on the side of the mattress; with Scully's upper 
body somewhat supported by his chest, and his left arm was around her 
shoulders.  His right hand was of course available for squeezing and 
handholding, whichever was currently required.  At that particular 
moment, Scully had merely threaded her fingers through his.

The doctor had also said that the baby was at zero station.  Scully had 
nodded, but he had not understood the term.  Traci had obviously seen 
his puzzled expression, because she had explained that it meant the 
baby's head was right at Scully's pelvic opening.  She had smiled and 
then added that delivery was very close.

Mulder returned his gaze to the woman in his arms.  She had lost some 
of her glow – her hair was damp with sweat, some strands matted to her 
reddened cheeks and others curling wildly – but she still looked 
amazingly beautiful to him.  

The pushing contractions did not come as quickly as the others had, 
which gave her a minute or two in between each one to rest.  She no 
longer wanted the ice chips, and other than the occasional grunt, she 
made no other sound.

Scully grunted then, a tiny expulsion of air, and her grip intensified 
on his fingers.  He realized she was getting ready to push again, so he 
tightened his arm around her shoulders and sat up straighter to offer 
her some of his strength.  She rounded her shoulders and tucked her 
chin down, and began to huff.

"Okay, Dana, I want you to bear down through the contraction," Dr. 
Newall said, and then started counting.  "1...2...3...4..." She counted 
all the way to ten, and Scully exhaled loudly and then sucked in 
another breath as the counting began again.  This time when she reached 
ten, she told Scully to relax.  "That's it, Dana, you're doing 
wonderfully."

Mulder felt her sag back against him, and he brought his face down 
beside her ear, kissing her cheek.  "You're doing great, Scully," he 
whispered.  And said it again.  "You are so incredible."  He then used 
his hand to brush the wisps of her bangs that had fallen onto her face 
off.

Scully surprised him by turning her head and cuddling into him.  "Love 
you, Mulder," she whispered.  "So glad you're here with me."

"Me too, baby," he whispered back, and rocked her slightly.

A whirring sound startled them both, and Mulder looked to his right to 
see Mrs. Scully lowering her camera and smiling with wet eyes.  Scully 
gave a little sigh, and when he returned his gaze to her face, he saw 
that she was smiling at her mother.

Completely unlike her reaction when Frohike had popped his head in 
about ten minutes or so ago, video camera in one hand, and asked if he 
could tape the birth.  She had growled out, "Not bloody likely!"  He 
had added his two cents – by pointing his finger towards the door and 
saying, "Out, Frohike!"  The little man had shrugged in an 'I tried' 
manner, and left.

"Do you want some ice chips or a drink of water or juice, Dana?" Mrs. 
Scully asked then, coming a little closer and touching Dana's shoulder 
gently.

Scully shook her head and said, "No, thanks, Mom."

Mrs. Scully leaned in to brush a kiss on Scully's cheek, and then 
straightened up.  She patted his shoulder, and backed away, her hand 
sliding down his arm in a gentle caress as she did so.

Yet another nurse was busy in one corner of the room, setting up the 
clear bassinet for the baby, and laying out sterile instrument trays.
Obviously they thought things would not be much longer, which sent a 
feeling of ebullience through him.

His mouth went dry as the reality hit him.  The baby was coming, most 
likely very soon.  He wasn't sure if he was ready for this.  Scully and 
he had talked about the delivery, and she had told him what he would 
see, and that she wanted him to cut the umbilical cord.  He had told 
her that of course he wanted to cut the cord, and he did want to, but 
he wasn't sure if he could handle it.  She had also told him there 
might be blood, and what the baby might look like, and at the time, it 
was not exactly surreal, but it was still far enough away to not be 
real.  And now it was.

Great, now he was having hot flashes.  He shot a quick look to his 
right, trying to spy the cup of ice chips.  He didn't care if they were 
melted; he just needed something cold in his mouth and throat.

But he never got a chance to reach for them or ask Mrs. Scully to pass 
them to him.  For another contraction was starting, Scully already 
moving her body into position.

Mary had Scully's leg lifted up again, having lowered it after the last 
contraction ended, and she had Scully's knee bent towards her chest, 
her little foot dangling in the air.  This time Scully curled her hand 
around her own thigh, as if to pull her leg towards herself even 
further.

"Once again, Dana, bear down," Dr. Newall said.  "That's it, doing 
great.  1...2...3..." And up to ten just as last time.  Scully repeated 
her earlier actions, exhaling and then inhaling again as the doctor 
started to count yet again.  "1...2...3... Oh!  Dana, your baby's 
crowning.  Do you want to see?"

"Uh-huh," Scully panted out, and struggled up even further, releasing 
her iron grip on his hand. 

It took Mulder a few seconds to register the little exchange, and 
Scully's movements, but once he did, he helped her lean forward so she 
could look between her legs.

"Ohhhhh..." she sighed, and Mulder heard her sniffle.  "Oh, Mulder... 
look!"

Even if he hadn't gotten extremely curious, and somewhat anxious to see 
their son or daughter, just hearing the awe in her voice, he had to 
look.  He shifted a little so that he was not pushing on her, and 
leaned forward too.  There was an area about the size of a silver 
dollar at Scully's opening that was wet and wrinkled and covered with a 
sparse amount of fine hair.  

It was the top of their baby's head.  

"Scuh-leee..." he husked.  While all of his adult life he had not 
believed in God, right that very minute, he did.

"Would you like to touch the baby, Dana?" Dr. Newall asked then.  "It's 
all right if you do."

"Ye-esss..." was Scully's somewhat shaky reply.

Mulder felt his eyes well with tears as she brought her trembling hand 
down between her legs and laid her fingers tentatively on the little 
bit of their baby's head.  She sighed again and ran them gently over 
the small surface, before taking her hand away and leaning back into 
his loose embrace with another gusty exhalation.

He couldn't help tightening his arm around and tucking his head into 
the crook of her shoulder and neck.  Both because he wanted to wrap 
himself and his love all around her, and to try and compose himself.

He felt her arm move, and a second later, her fingers sifting through 
his hair softly.  She was crooning too, almost a nonsensical litany.
"Mulder, Mulder, so glad you're here, love you so much, Oh God, Mulder 
that's our baby there...*our* baby, so incredible, I can't believe it."

Mulder lifted his head and kissed her ear.  "Believe it, Scully," he 
whispered.

"That's our miracle, about to come out into the world and meet it's 
mommy and daddy."

***


4:20 pm


All of her focus and attention was on that visible little bit of their 
child.  The awkwardness of her position, which enabled her to look 
there, along with her discomfort, was ignored, forgotten.  There was no 
way she could not have looked, beyond being strapped down in four-point 
restraints.  And even then, she would have been fighting with every bit 
of strength she could muster.

Covered in vernix and blood, and wisps of what looked like it might be 
reddish-blonde hair, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

It was real.  

As her pregnancy had progressed, and she had stared wide-eyed and 
glazed at the ultrasound, seen and heard the baby's heartbeat, watched 
her belly grow, felt the baby kick for the very first time, all those 
things had made her pregnancy become more of a reality than a hopeful 
dream.  Those things had pushed away the state of near-denial that 
stemmed from a belief that she was infertile that she had entered when 
she had first heard those two words, 'You're pregnant' in a hospital 
bed so long ago.

Having a child, or children, had always been something she had thought 
about for the future.  From her little girl days, pushing her dolls in 
a carriage and dressing them up, to her teen years when she had first 
gotten her mother's lecture on the birds and the bees and abstinence, 
to her first serious relationship, the thought had been there.  After 
joining the FBI, it had become a goal she willingly put aside for the 
moment while attempting to establish her career. 

Only to learn it was because of her career, or her association with 
Mulder, that the ability to do so had been taken away.  That knowledge 
had nearly destroyed her, although she had as usual, put on a brave 
front.  One Mulder had seen through, but allowed her to keep wrapped 
around her like a tattered shroud.  For it turned out, it had nearly 
destroyed him as well.

Whether it was irony or fate, it was most likely because of Mulder that 
she had regained the ability to bear children.  Perhaps it did not 
matter.  All that mattered was that they were having one now.

Scully heard Mulder's husky exhalation of her name, and Dr. Newall's 
next question through a haze of fog, but the words did register, 
pulling her from her thoughts.

Touch her baby?

Oh God.  To touch her baby at long last.  God, yes.  

"Ye-esss," she answered, her voice trembling as much as her hands and 
body were.  She brought her shaking fingers down, between her legs, and 
let them glance over the small surface, hardly daring to breathe, let 
alone apply pressure.

The fleeting touch was not near enough.  In fact, nothing would be 
until she was nestling the baby in her arms, bringing him or her to 
suckle at her breast.  But this would have to do until that actual 
glorious moment.  Sighing, she allowed herself to trace over the baby's 
head for a second or two, before sagging back into Mulder's semi-
embrace.

When she relaxed, it felt like the baby had receded back up into the 
birthing canal.  This was normal she remembered, as the contraction 
eased there was nothing forcing the baby down further.

Mulder responded to her leaning back into him by burying his head in 
her neck and squeezing his arm tighter around her.  Because he held 
himself so still, she knew he was experiencing some very deep emotion.  
She brought one hand up, and managed to touch his head.  She stroked 
through his hair, and spoke softly to him, almost crooning the words.  
"Mulder, Mulder, so glad you're here, love you so much, Oh God, Mulder 
that's our baby there...*our* baby, so incredible, I can't believe it."

Mulder moved, raising his head, and she felt him press his lips to her 
ear in a sweet kiss.  "Believe it, Scully," he whispered.  "That's our 
miracle, about to come out into the world and meet it's mommy and 
daddy."

"Mulder," she murmured, touched.  She remembered her words to him after 
he had awoken from his medically induced coma, about having her two 
miracles – he and their baby.

"How are you feeling, Dana?" Dr. Newall's voice interrupted their 
little moment.

"Tired, but good," Scully answered honestly, shifting her gaze to meet 
the doctor's eyes, her hand sliding from Mulder's head to drop onto his 
thigh.  It was covered a millisecond later by his.  "A little nervous, 
but mostly excited."

The doctor smiled and nodded, and then said, "I'm going to be applying 
some warm compresses to your perineum, just like we discussed at your 
last visit.  Hopefully an episiotomy will not be necessary."

Or tearing, Scully thought silently to herself with a little internal 
shiver.  That was a very unpleasant possibility.  She nodded her 
understanding and thanks to Dr. Newall, and a moment later felt some 
pressure between her legs, and soothing warmth.  The doctor had been 
massaging her perineum already; to help stretch the tissues for when 
the baby decided to make its entrance into the world, but the warm 
compresses were an added comfort. 

The urge to push was building again, as was the pressure in her lower 
back and deep in her abdomen.  She sat up a bit, fingers 
unintentionally digging into Mulder's leg, and started to pant.

She bore down, Mulder's gentle murmurings in her ear, and heard Dr. 
Newall say, "That's it, Dana.  Keep panting.  Don't hold your breath."

A few more contractions passed this way, with the baby's head advancing 
and receding as they ebbed and flowed.

Her mother brought over a cool, wet cloth after the last one, and 
bathed Scully's face and neck.  It felt wonderful, and she whispered 
her thanks.  Her mom leaned in and whispered, "You're doing so good, 
baby."  She backed away then, and returned to her chair out of the way.

Mulder massaged her shoulders gently, and she rocked slightly with the 
motions of her body.  Her eyes closed, feeling heavy, and she might 
have actually dozed.

But another contraction started, and she was up again, now once more 
squeezing the life out of Mulder's fingers.

Stretching.  And a burning, stinging sensation.  Scully gritted her 
teeth and kept pushing, letting her body guide her.  Sweat was running 
down the sides of her face, and soaking her back, which was pressed up 
against Mulder's chest, and she could feel a straining in every muscle.
Even her toes were scrunched up as she worked to expel the baby.

"Ahhhhh...OOOOHHHHH!" she groaned as she felt something 'pop'.  Then 
there was a lot of pressure and more stretching.

"There's the head!" Dr. Newall cried out.  "Okay, Dana, I need you to 
stop pushing now.  We're going to suction the baby's nose and mouth."

Scully scrunched her eyes shut and panted.  She still wanted to push, 
very badly.

A moment later there was a very weak, shivery cry.  Followed 
immediately by a very loud, indignant bellow.

"Scuh-leeee..." Mulder whispered in her ear, just as she let out a 
half-laugh, half-cry.

"Oh my God, Mulder...listen," she sobbed/laughed, now blinking back 
tears of happiness and joy.  She turned her head into his neck, and he 
lowered his until his forehead was resting on hers, just above her ear.

"I'm listening, Scully, I'm listening," he said.  "And it's so 
beautiful."

The urge to push was even stronger, and another contraction had started 
again already.  Scully straightened up and got ready to bear down 
again.

"Okay, Dana, I'm turning the baby, and you can start pushing now," Dr. 
Newall said. "Don't forget to breathe with it, that's it."

The pain was quite intense as the shoulders popped out, and then all of 
a sudden there was a whooshing, sliding feeling, and Dr. Newall was 
holding their baby up.

"It's a boy!" she exclaimed, and after a moment, laid the baby belly-
down on Scully's stomach with practiced ease.

"Oh, Scuhleee," she heard from Mulder, along with her mother's happy 
crying.  There were also several quick flashes and the whirring of her 
mother's camera, but all she could focus her eyes on was the baby lying 
atop her belly.

Scully reached out with a trembling hand to touch their tiny son, her 
eyes running from the top of the sparsely-haired head, down his little, 
curled up legs to his surprisingly long feet.  Mulder's hand followed 
and he placed it on top of hers.  

He whispered, "I love you so much, Scully.  You were so incredible."

"I love you, Mulder," she replied, and tucked her head into his neck 
again, but with her face turned out, still watching their baby. 

Traci stepped in then and draped a blue receiving blanket over the 
baby, who was shivering and wailing loudly with indignation, his face 
scrunched up and red.  A second later, she had slipped a little knit 
cap, also blue, onto his head.

"Okay, Dad," Dr. Newall said then.  "Are you ready to cut the umbilical 
cord?"

***

4:40 pm


Mulder had been in awe, and absolutely amazed when he had seen the top 
of the baby's head playing peek-a-boo.  He had become even more so when 
he heard the baby's first weak, little cry, and then the very indignant 
wail right after, as its head had popped out.  

But when Dr. Newall announced 'it's a boy' and lifted his tiny, 
squalling, red-faced son up for them to see, he was only able to utter,
"Oh, Scuhleeee."  There were no words to describe what he felt.

Over the sounds of Mrs. Scully taking several pictures of this 
momentous occasion, he could hear Scully's crying – relieved and happy, 
he knew.  His own eyes were wet, and one tear had actually escaped to 
roll down his cheek, and now he could hear Mrs. Scully sniffling as 
well.  Even Traci, who'd probably witnessed or assisted in hundreds of 
births, had a glistening of tears in her eyes.

Dr. Newall then placed the baby on Scully's stomach, his belly down, 
his little head turned to one side.  His legs were drawn up, and his 
hands were curled in tiny fists as he shivered and cried out all his 
indignities to the room.

Mulder watched as Scully's still trembling hand lifted to gently touch 
their son's head, which was covered with what he hoped would be hair 
the color of Scully's, and with vernix, as was the rest of the baby's 
body.  His mind quickly supplied the information he had read about 
vernix – that the cheesy, white substance was secreted by sebaceous 
glands at around the 20th week of the pregnancy to protect the baby's 
skin from the amniotic fluid.  Without it, the baby's skin could get 
damaged, and would be very wrinkly.  When it came off after birth, the 
skin of some babies even peeled.

He leaned over, careful not to jostle Scully, and covered her hand with 
his.  Even with her hand over the baby, he imagined he could feel the 
heat and softness of their child.  He could also feel the tremors 
running through their son.  Cold, and probably in a state of shock over 
this new world he had been thrust into.

"I love you so much, Scully," he whispered into the side of her head.  
"You were incredible."  That word yet again, and he smiled inwardly.

Scully replied, "I love you, Mulder," and cuddled herself into his 
body, while still watching their son.

As if reading his mind about the baby being cold, Traci stepped closer 
to the bed, and covered the baby with a square-shaped hospital blanket 
– receiving blanket, he corrected himself.  Next was a little hat to 
cover his head.

Dr. Newall spoke then, and at her words, he dragged his gaze from the 
baby to the doctor.  "Okay, Dad.  Are you ready to cut the umbilical 
cord?" she said.

Talk about a cold shower.  Here he was in the warm glow of new baby 
love, and now he had to go cut the umbilical cord?  Something that just 
moments ago had been his son's lifeline?  Had been his connection to 
his mother, within Scully's womb?

He and Scully had discussed this of course, a couple weeks ago, along 
with how actively he wanted to be involved in the birth.  He had told 
her he was there from start to finish, that nothing would stop him.  
And that he did not think he would be disturbed by watching the birth 
of their child, and wanted to be the one to cut the umbilical cord.

And he did still want to.  

Mulder took a deep breath and replied, "I'm ready."

Scully let out a soft giggle and when he shifted his face to hers and 
quirked an eyebrow in silent inquiry, she said, "You're not facing a 
firing squad, Mulder."

"Very funny," he told her, and carefully extricated himself from 
beneath her, and lifted off the bed.  He pressed a quick kiss on her 
cheek and another one on the top of her head, and moved to where Traci 
indicated the doctor wanted him.

He now had a bird's eye-view, so to speak, of what had occurred down 
'there' while he had been helping Scully through her contractions.  And 
if he paled somewhat, he was sure it was completely normal.  He had 
expected there to be blood, yes, had been warned there would be, but 
not quite that much!

Moving his eyes from Scully's still bared lower body, he saw that Traci 
had stepped in and lifted the baby, partially wrapped in the blanket 
and still squalling, and was holding him up.  One hand was supporting 
his head and neck, the other cupping his bottom.  

Dr. Newall handed him what looked like a large pair of bandage scissors 
and then grasped the umbilical cord in one hand.  "Cut right here, 
between these two clamps, Dad," she said, and touched the spot with one 
gloved index finger.  

His eyes followed her hand, and he saw the two clamps she had indicated 
– little blue plastic clips that were squeezed around the cord, about 
three inches apart.  The cord itself was a pale grayish-blue, and 
looked wet – vaguely alien.

Taking another deep breath, Mulder fitted the scissors into one hand 
and brought them to the cord.  Opening them, he put them in place, and 
scrunching one eye shut while fixing the other one on the spot he was 
required to cut, he cut down.  It was easier than he thought, and when 
neither Scully nor the baby cried out in distress or pain, he relaxed 
his shoulders, sighing audibly.

"Good job, Dad," Dr. Newall said, and the baby was whisked over to the 
corner where one of the other nurses had set up an examination station 
of sorts earlier. 

Mulder retreated before he could witness anything the doctor might be 
doing down there next, and went back to stand beside Scully.  She was 
regarding him with a proud smile, the exhaustion obvious on her face.
"Hey," he said softly, bending down to prop one elbow on the mattress 
of the bed, bringing his face next to hers.  "How are you doing?"

"Good..." she sighed and leaned a bit closer to rub her cheek on his 
shoulder.  "Go watch him please, Mulder," she said next.

New mother nerves, he guessed.  And to be honest, he was getting a bit 
antsy being this far away from his son.  What exactly were they doing 
to him?  Cleaning him up, he was sure, but what else?

He kissed her head and headed over to observe.  Mrs. Scully was there, 
camera in hand, and she smiled when he came to stand beside her.

"He's beautiful, Fox," she said.

Mulder looked at the baby, now naked in the bassinet, red face 
scrunched up in horror or fear or dismay, little nose flattened, his 
little fists and...really long feet...pulled tight to his body.  Which 
was still not yet clean.  

Beautiful?  Well...

"Yes," he replied softly.  "Yes, he is."

The two nurses moved efficiently, putting an ointment in his eyes, 
weighing and measuring him, cleaning him up and diapering him, and then 
had Mulder wincing in sympathy when they pricked his heel for a blood 
sample.

Then one of them listened to his heart with a stethoscope, and took his 
pulse, making notations on a chart when she was finished.  She also 
suctioned his nose, which made him cry angrily, his whole body 
shivering with the force.

Mulder realized they were doing the Apgar test on the baby.  It was 
done to evaluate every newborn, and to recognize and identify distress.
He wondered what the first score had been – for they did the test at 
one minute and five minutes after birth – on a scale of one to ten.
Ten of course was a perfect score, and babies were rarely 'perfect' at 
birth.  And generally scores under seven could be an indication of 
trouble or complications.

The nurse efficiently bundled the baby with quick, economical 
movements, and scooped him up, like he was a football.  She turned and 
smiled at him.  She held the baby out, and said, "Here you go, Dad.  
Why don't you take this little guy to his mommy?"

Mulder took him hesitantly, making sure one hand supported the head and 
neck as he had seen in illustrations, and Scully had demonstrated with 
a baby doll, and the other slid under the baby's back and rear end.

He was so light.  And still shivering, though his cries had muted 
somewhat.  Mulder's arms instinctively tightened around his son, and he 
lowered his face to the tiny face barely visible through the folds of 
the blanket.  He cooed softly, "Hey there, little guy."

The flashing and whirring of the camera were distant distractions.  He 
could not pull his eyes away from the miracle in his arms.

But he knew Scully was anxious to see their son.

Turning carefully, he began to walk slowly towards the bed; eyes still 
intent on his son's face.  He looked up once to make sure his path was 
clear.

Just in time to see the afterbirth slide into Dr. Newall's waiting 
hands.

Now that was something he could have happily lived his life without 
ever seeing.  He shuddered once and moved on, and saw that Scully was 
watching him and the baby, her expression both yearning and tender.

Moving into place beside her, he bent over, watching her arms rise up 
to accept the baby.  He placed the bundle into them, gently sliding his 
out from underneath, and then rested a hip on the mattress to sit 
beside her.  His arm slid around her shoulders, and Scully 
automatically shifted so that she was nearly cradled into his chest.

Propping the baby in the crook of her left arm, and letting his lower 
half rest on her belly, she lifted her now rock-steady right hand, and 
pulled at the receiving blanket.  Her fingers then moved feather-light 
along his squished button-nose, over his lips and chin, and down his 
chest.  She avoided the clipped end of the umbilical cord and then 
tugged more of the blanket aside to study his legs and feet, her index 
finger stroking each toe.  His little hands were next, and then she 
bundled him back up, the blanket not quite as neatly arranged as it had 
been.

"Dana, why don't you put him to your breast now?" Dr. Newall suggested, 
finally having risen from her seat on the low stool.  She stood with 
her hands on her hips, regarding her patients fondly.

Mulder watched with an amazed anticipation as she lowered her already 
loosened gown down on one side, exposing her swollen breast.  With what 
seemed like capable, confident movements, she brought the baby up to 
her breast and settled him into position.  She stroked his cheek as he 
rooted around for a second, and then he had latched on to her nipple 
with a ferocious move.

Scully jumped and gave a startled "Oh!" and the women in the room all 
chuckled.

He stared in fascination as his son's jaws worked furiously.  He knew 
he had just seen the second most beautiful thing in his life.

***
 
4:50 pm


Scully smiled as she watched Mulder preparing to cut the umbilical 
cord.  He had one eye squeezed shut, and his face was twisted in a 
comical near-grimace.  She could also see the tendons in his neck 
standing in sharp relief, and that his jaw was tight.  

When they had first discussed his involvement in the birth, and whether 
he would cut the cord, he had expressed a concern about it being 
painful for either her or the baby.  And that if so, he did not want to 
be the one to cause them pain.  She has assured him that was not the 
case – the umbilical cord, while a source of nutrients and oxygen for 
the fetus, was not a pain receptor.  

Scully thought that might be what he was remembering right then, 
causing his hesitation.  But once he had snipped the scissors through 
the cord, his entire body relaxed.

As did hers, for she had unintentionally been holding herself very 
still, which resulted in no small amount of discomfort.  Sitting up as 
she was did not help either, so she gingerly lowered herself back down 
to the pillows, sighing quietly in relief.  Her left leg ached from 
being held in mid-air during the delivery, as did her right hip from 
bearing most of her weight at the time.  Other little discomforts, 
including a raging thirst and a grumbling stomach, had started to let 
themselves be known.

She was still experiencing uterine contractions, though not quite as 
intense as they had been as she had labored to bring forth the baby.  
This was normal - the body waited for the placenta to spontaneously 
detach from the uterus, to subsequently be delivered.  She would 
continue to have contractions even after the placenta had been 
delivered for up to a week to ten days, often called afterpains, while 
her uterus decreased to its pre-pregnancy size.  Breastfeeding often 
made these contractions more intense because of oxytoxin, which was 
necessary for milk letdown, stimulated the uterine contractions.

The other nurse, Mary, had come over when Mulder had vacated his spot 
to cut the cord, and began massaging Scully's fundus - the top of the 
uterus - by rubbing her abdomen.  This was done both to aid in 
delivering the afterbirth, and to help prevent unnecessary bleeding.  

"Good job, Dad," Dr. Newall said then, and Scully saw Traci take the 
baby over to the examining station in the corner of the room.  Although 
she propped herself up on her elbows once again, with her legs bent and 
partially draped with a sheet, she could see no more then the edge of 
the bassinet, and of the nurse's arms.  But at least she could still 
hear her son's shivery cries.

Mulder came back to her, resuming his position at the head of the bed, 
and Mary stopped her massaging and moved to assist Dr. Newall.

He leaned over onto the bed, one elbow on the mattress supporting his 
weight.  This position brought his face very close to hers.  "Hey," he 
said low-voiced, his expression still one of awe and wonder.  "How are 
you doing?"

Surprisingly, she felt wonderful.  "Good," she told him, and rubbed her 
cheek on his shoulder.  She was tired, yes, and sore, but those things 
didn't matter right then.  She was still caught up in the miracle of 
birth, and their son.  Whom she missed enormously already.  That brief 
contact when he had lain on her stomach, and she had been able to 
finally touch him, had not been enough.  She needed to hold him, to 
examine him – counting his toes and fingers, looking at every inch of 
him – to see with her own eyes that all was well...and that he was 
completely normal.

Suddenly anxious that the nurses seemed to be taking too long with 
their son, she said, "Go watch him please, Mulder."  A thought 
flickered to life – had his first Apgar been too low?  But there had 
been no panicked outcry, or the resultant flurry of activity if a low 
score on his Apgar had been the case, so she reassured herself that she 
was worrying needlessly.  She hoped her face had not betrayed her 
thoughts to Mulder.

He bent and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, not appearing 
distressed or worried, then straightened up and moved to the corner.  
To stand beside her mother there, whom Scully had just spied standing a 
short distance from the nurses, camera in hand.

Dr. Newall called her name softly, and when she had met the doctor's 
gaze, the woman said, "Okay, Dana.  We're going to deliver the placenta 
now.  You will probably feel some discomfort, but I need you to push 
when I ask, okay?"

Scully nodded, and a moment later felt the doctor's gloved hand 
palpating her abdomen.  It was uncomfortable, and slightly painful, but 
at least she was fully on her back now, with both feet in the stirrups 
and could use that to push with her body more fully.

She pushed when Dr. Newall advised her to, although she felt the need 
to do so anyway with each contraction, which seemed to last roughly one 
minute in duration.  The doctor continued to massage her abdomen for 
some minutes during that time, before moving her hand away to examine 
her.  Scully experienced three such 'pushing' contractions, and then 
felt an odd sensation as the placenta was expelled.

"Good, Dana!" Dr. Newall said, apparently studying the afterbirth.  A 
moment later she reported, "Placenta looks normal, completely intact."

Scully looked over Dr. Newall's shoulder as she saw movement 
peripherally, to see Mulder standing frozen in place, the newly re-
bundled baby held high and protectively in his arms, staring with 
dismay between her legs.  She did not smile, but regarded him fondly.  
He had held up so well – she had seen him pale a few times during the 
delivery – and remained steadfast.  She was tremendously proud of him, 
and grateful beyond relief that he had been there.  That one of her 
greatest fears – Mulder never returning to see his child being born – 
had not come to pass.

He walked on then, and came to her side, bending over and carefully 
extending the baby towards her, straight into her waiting arms.  While 
she stared down into the baby's red, crying face, she was aware of 
Mulder slipping onto the edge of the bed, his arm coming around her 
shoulder.  She moved slightly, until she was snuggled up against him.  
He was a warm, secure presence beside her, just as the baby was within 
her arms.  It felt so right.

At the end of the bed, Traci and Mary were easing her feet from the 
stirrups, and lowering her legs onto the now restored bed, having 
already cleaned her up and dressed her.  One of them eased a clean 
sheet over her, and brought it to waist-high.

Scully's desire to see her infant was burning.  She arranged him 
properly, his head cradled in the crook of her left arm, his rear end 
and legs supported by her stomach, and tugged at the flannel blanket 
that concealed most of his tiny body.  As she gently touched his little 
nose, flattened by the birth, and his rosebud lips and slightly pointed 
chin – hers! – she could hear her mother snapping more pictures.  

But she could not yet spare a moment to look up and smile.  The time 
for formal poses was later; she had a baby to study.

Running two fingers lightly down his chest, feeling the rapid beat of 
his heart, she was careful not to jostle the clip that clamped off the 
end of the umbilical cord.  He was diapered, so she would check that 
part of him later, and instead moved more of the blanket aside to look 
at his legs, his dimpled knees and his now kicking feet.  Each toe was 
delicately touched, and counted, before she gently edged one finger 
into a waving fist, her thumb stroking over his knuckles, the skin 
petal soft.  She marveled at how tiny his fingernails were, none coming 
close in size to the nail on her pinkie, and the strength he displayed 
with his grip, before finally rewrapping him.  Not as neat a bundling 
job as the nurse had done, but she would soon have lots of practice.

Movement at the foot of the bed had Scully looking up to see Dr. Newall 
standing with her hands on her hips, smiling gently.  "Dana, why don't 
you put him to your breast now?" she asked.

They had discussed breastfeeding almost from the moment she had first 
started seeing Dr. Newall, and Scully had always been a strong 
supporter of the act.  Scully nodded again in reply, and used her right 
hand to tug the left side of her gown down, baring her swollen breast.
She was very aware of Mulder's interested, heavy gaze, and that of her 
mother's and Dr. Newall's, all watching this first time.  Somehow it 
did not disturb her as much as the thought might once have.

Shifting the baby slightly – and bemusedly telling herself she and 
Mulder needed to choose a name for the baby, something they had not 
been able to agree on while reading baby name books – she turned him so 
that he was on his side, facing her breast and stomach, and stroked his 
downy cheek.  He nuzzled her breast, rooting for her nipple, still 
whimpering, and then clamped down.  Hard.

She jumped slightly, her parted mouth releasing a loudly exclaimed, 
"Oh!" and heard the other women in the room laugh in support and 
commiseration.  Beside her, Mulder made a funny noise – part sigh, part 
startlement.  She turned her head to look at him, and saw that his gaze 
was fixed entirely on their son's mouth around her breast.  He had the 
most beautiful look on his face, one she could not accurately describe 
to do it justice.

The baby's hands and feet were moving against her body, contained by 
the blanket, and it pulled her eyes back to him.  Her free arm curled 
around him, her hand almost cupping his head, and her fingers stroked 
the side of his face gently.  The rhythmic sucking of his jaws could be 
easily felt, and his eyes fluttered open occasionally.  She was certain 
the baby had latched on correctly – very little of her areola was 
visible, and the baby's lips flanged outwards, not sucked inward.  

She could only describe the sensation in her breast as a drawing 
feeling, or a pulling.  It was strangely relaxing, and once her initial 
shock had worn off, not unpleasant in the least. 

At the most, the baby was only receiving colostrum, a protein-rich 
fluid that preceded the actual milk, along with some measure of 
comfort.  As well, the contact with her was recommended, although it 
was best skin-on-skin.  She would try that later, in the privacy of her 
hospital room, with only Mulder in attendance.

"I don't think there's any problem with his sucking, is there, Dana?" 
Dr. Newall's voice interrupted the private little world she had 
entered, and she looked up in surprise at the distraction.

The words registered a moment later, and she smiled and shook her head, 
before returning her eyes to her son.  "No, not at all," she replied 
softly.

"I'll say," Mulder said, equally soft, his lips just inches from her 
ear.  "Takes after his father," he quipped next.

She met his gaze again, dragging her eyes away from their son, and 
smiled.  "Definitely a breast man," she agreed.

Mulder leaned down to touch his lips to hers in a quick kiss, then 
said, "He looks so happy and content there.  Peaceful."

Her mother had finally joined them, standing on the other side of the 
bed beside Scully.  She made a snuffling sound, and husked out, "Dana, 
baby, he's beautiful."  Her hand came up to rest lightly on his little 
head, as she watched him nurse with moist eyes.  She raised them a 
moment later to meet Scully's gaze and whispered, "Your father would be 
bursting with pride right about now."

"I wish he were here to see him, Mom," Scully replied, rocking the baby 
slightly, feeling her own eyes fill.

Her mom lifted her hand from the baby's head to cup Scully's cheek and 
said, "He is here, honey.  Smiling down on us."  She sniffled once more 
and then smiled with still shining eyes.  Clearing her throat, she 
said, "I'm going to leave you three alone to get better acquainted, and 
go call your brothers."  With that she kissed Scully on the cheek, bent 
and kissed the baby on his head, and after straightening up again, 
touched her hand to her lips in a kiss for Mulder, then left the room.

"You okay, Scully?" Mulder murmured, his arm squeezing her shoulders a 
little.  His other hand came up to brush a strand of hair from her 
cheek, tucking it behind her ear.

She knew he was referring to the moment about her father, and sent him 
a small smile.  But she hadn't just been thinking about her father, she 
had also been thinking about the absence of Mulder's father, and 
whether Mulder had been thinking about him too.  "I'm okay, Mulder."  
She blinked a few times, to clear the tears that had not fallen from 
her eyes, and added, "I think I know what we should call him now."

***

5:10 pm


Mulder felt a little pang inside when Mrs. Scully, standing next to 
Scully, her hand on the baby's cap-covered head, said to her, "Your 
father would be bursting with pride right now."  The pang was for both 
women, but even more so for Scully, whom he knew missed her father 
dearly.

The sadness in Scully's voice as she answered her mother, hurt even 
more.  He hated to see her in pain – be it physical or emotional, 
wished there was some way he could make it go away, as impossible as he 
knew the wish to be.

At the same time, the conversation between mother and daughter, 
particularly when Mrs. Scully mentioned calling her sons to tell them 
the news, brought a painful fact to the forefront of his mind.  He had 
no family to tell.  He could not phone his parents to tell them they 
now had a grandchild, nor did he have a sibling whom he could call and 
inform that they were an aunt or an uncle.  He recalled with an inward 
smile how Samantha, despite being determined to do everything he did, 
absolutely loved to play with her 'babies' – her dolls.  She would 
always tell him he was their 'Uncle Fox', to his horror and dismay.

His mind flashed suddenly on a picture of his father's face – stern and 
unsmiling, and of his mother's – pale and still in death.  Would the 
news of a grandson have brought a smile to his father's visage?  
Finally reached his mother, and thrilled her beyond anything if she had 
been alive to hear the news?

Mulder forced the damning, haunting thoughts and images of his parents 
out of his head, and gave Scully's shoulders a little squeeze.  "You 
okay, Scully?" he asked her softly.  A strand of her hair was caught on 
her damp cheek, and he brought his free hand up to tuck it behind her 
ear.

She still looked melancholy, but her voice was lighter when she 
replied, "I'm okay, Mulder."  He watched her blink back the tears that 
hadn't fallen, or she wouldn't let fall, and was awed once again by her 
strength.  She then said, "I think I know what we should call him now."

Ah.  A name for the baby – something they had not been able to agree 
upon.  He hesitated before asking what it was.  Something in her voice 
when she had said the words gave him an idea as to what it might be.
Clearing his throat a bit, he said, "Hit me, baby."  Maybe the 
lightness of his comment was inappropriate; maybe she'd appreciate it, 
he didn't know.

She chuffed out a small laugh, shaking her head slightly.  Her hand 
rose to adjust the blanket that wrapped the baby, bringing his 
attention down to the child.  

Mulder watched him for a moment, content to do so while waiting for 
Scully's reply.  The baby was still and quiet, and seemed to have dozed 
off at her breast, though his jaw still moved every so often as he 
sucked in his sleep.  He moved his hand to lay his hand atop Scully's, 
on the baby's bottom.

Scully moved slightly, and Mulder lifted his eyes to see that she was 
regarding him solemnly.  "William," she said.

He had been correct.  She wanted to name the baby after her father.  A 
common practice - naming a first-born son after the father or 
grandfather - and seeing as there was no way in hell his son was going 
to be called Fox Junior, William was a logical choice.  

Scully spoke again.  "William, after both our fathers.  To honor and 
remember them both."

Mulder blinked, completely stunned.  And felt an inexplicable stinging 
in his eyes.  Or perhaps it was explainable.  He was touched.  Touched 
that Scully wanted to honor his father with hers.  "Scuhleee," he said, 
his voice husky.  He stopped, turning his head to cough into his 
shoulder, not wanting to move his hand from Scully and...William.  He 
tried again.  "William is a perfect name, Scully."

Traci, the nurse, interrupted their little private moment.  "How's 
everybody doing here?" she asked softly, moving to just a foot away 
from Mulder.

"He's asleep," Scully replied with equal softness.

"Well, your room is ready now, and we'll be getting ready to move you, 
so it's good that we won't disturb his sucking," Traci said then.  "Is 
he still latched on?"  At Scully's nod, she explained what to do, 
demonstrating with her pinkie.  "Curl your pinkie like this," she held 
up one hand, her last finger curled, "and slide it in the corner of his 
mouth.  Pull gently, until the suction breaks, releasing the seal.  
You'll feel a small 'pop'."

Mulder watched interestedly, his head craned for optimum viewing, as 
Scully followed the instructions and released William's mouth from her 
breast.  The baby's lips puckered, then smacked together, though he 
never woke.

"Why don't you let Dad take baby for a little while?" Traci suggested 
to Scully.  "There's a handful of anxious men out there in the waiting 
room who say they're with you.  Maybe you'd like to introduce them to 
your son?  That way we can get Mom here all comfortable and ready to 
move to their new room."

Mulder remembered the Gunmen, who had arrived a few hours back.  They 
were his 'family', he supposed, and smiled.  His kid would have three 
wacky 'uncles', that was for sure.  And a grumpy one named Bill, he 
thought with an inwardly sardonic grin.  Then he recalled Mrs. Scully 
telling he and Scully about an hour or so later that 'Walter' and 
'John' had arrived – her use of their first names, not his.  

He looked at Scully.  "That okay, Mom?"

It hit him then.  Scully was a mom.  And he was a dad.  Holy shit.

Scully smiled softly.  "That's okay.  Dad."  She slid the hand that had 
been cupping William's bottom a little further up, spreading it to 
support his back, and moved her other hand under him, to cradle his 
head, and lifted him from her stomach with a little sigh, that was 
probably of relief.  

Mulder had already slid his arm from around her shoulders and gotten 
off the bed, and was leaning over, ready to move his arms into 
position.  It was a bit awkward, but they managed, and a moment later, 
he was standing with William cradled in his arms.  He smiled at Scully, 
who had that proud yet slightly dismayed look on her face again.  
"We'll be right back, Scully, I promise."

"I know," she said, her smile widening, the dismay gone. "I love you." 

He winked at her, and then turned and walked slowly and carefully to 
the door, an almost unconscious sway to his steps.  Bending his head 
down closer to William's, he whispered, "We're gonna go meet lots of 
uncles, William.  Now some of them are a little scary, but don't worry, 
they won't hurt you."

When he reached the door, he had to juggle William a bit, and he was 
afraid he would drop him.  But he managed without incident.

It was cooler in the hallway, and William's little face scrunched up, a 
tiny little mewl escaping.  Mulder fought down his panic.  He could 
handle this.  "Shh, shh, shh," he cooed to the baby, bouncing his arms 
up and down slightly, his body automatically adapting as he walked.  

Entering the waiting room across the entrance to the Labor & Delivery 
rooms, he encountered the oddest collection of waiting men he'd ever 
seen.  It made him grin.

Doggett and Skinner sat in one corner, both dressed in their FBI 
attire, the chair beside them holding their folded overcoats.  In the 
opposite corner were the Gunmen.  Byers, of course, was impeccably 
dressed in a suit and tie, hair neat as a pin.  Langly's long hair was 
scraggly, though it appeared he had put on a fresh, clean tee shirt for 
the occasion.  And Frohike, well Frohike wore a suit too, with a bow 
tie, and a carnation in his lapel.

When he saw Mulder there in the doorway, he strode over, his face 
creased in the largest smile Mulder had ever seen on him.  
"Congratulations, Dad!" he said.  His fingerless-gloved hand came up 
for a handshake, and then he realized Mulder's hands were full.  The 
little man lowered his hand, and stuffed them both in his pants 
pockets.

The other two Gunmen were on his heels, followed by Skinner and 
Doggett, all wearing expectant, excited looks.

Mulder turned sideways a little, and lowered the arm supporting 
William's bottom half, while raising his other arm upwards, displaying 
the baby's face.  "I'd like you guys to meet William."

***

5:15 pm


Scully felt that telltale shift of Mulder's body – minute, and most 
likely missed by anyone other than herself.  She was certain now that 
she had been correct in her assumption that Mulder had been thinking 
about his father.  Her heart ached for him – so alone in this world.  
Except that now he had her, and their child, who was at that moment a 
warm and welcome weight at her breast.

Finally Mulder responded verbally to her statement, first clearing his 
throat quietly.  "Hit me, baby," he joked.

Scully was not surprised at his attempt at humor – it was one of his 
deeply ingrained defense mechanisms.  One she now understood, and 
accepted.  However, there was no trace of the curiosity she knew had to 
be there.  All attempts at choosing a name, or names, for the as-yet 
unborn baby, while light-hearted and fun, had been completely 
unsuccessful.

She gave his comment the level of appreciation it deserved – a small, 
rueful shake of her head, and a chuckle.  The baby seemed to shiver 
then in her arms, so she straightened the blanket he was wrapped in, 
tucking it more securely under his chin.  

Other than that one little shiver, and the occasional tug on her nipple 
as he sucked, he had not moved in the last few minutes.  She thought he 
might have drifted off to sleep.

Mulder had relaxed, his body was again loose and easy along hers, and 
he moved his hand to cover hers, which was cupped around the baby's 
rear end.

She turned her head to look at Mulder, and saw that he was studying the 
baby.  Obviously feeling her gaze upon him, he lifted his eyes to meet 
hers.  "William," she told him, and watched the emotions flickering 
over his face.  When he said nothing, she added, "William, after both 
our fathers.  To honor and remember them both."

His surprise was obvious – the startled blink of his eyes, and the 
slight parting of his lips.  When his eyes went glassy, Scully realized 
it was more than surprise.  Mulder was deeply moved by her inclusion of 
his father in her choice of a name for their baby.

He said her name, his voice husky.  The syllables drawn out as he did 
in extreme emotional moments, such as when he was angry, or aroused.  
He turned his head away then, and she wondered if he was embarrassed or 
ashamed to have shown such a reaction.  She was saddened that he might 
be, for she had thought they had gotten past the bottling up of their 
emotions and feelings.

After coughing into his shoulder, Mulder spoke again, his voice clear.
"William is a perfect name, Scully."

A contrite-looking Traci interrupted them then.  "How's everybody doing 
here?" she asked quietly.

Scully looked down.  The baby...*William's* breathing had slowed and 
deepened, so she was now certain he was asleep.  His mouth was still 
clamped around her nipple though, as if he were unwilling to let go.

Definitely like his father, Scully mused with an inward smile.  Lifting 
her head again, she told Traci, keeping her voice low, "He's asleep."

Traci explained that their room was ready, and then demonstrated how to 
remove William from her breast.  Scully had read several online 
articles, and pamphlets from Dr. Newall's office on breastfeeding, and 
the importance of both a proper latch and breaking the latch were 
stressed in every one.  The complications could often be quite 
unpleasant for both mother and baby.

She could feel Mulder's eyes on her as she gently inserted the tip of 
her pinkie in the corner of William's mouth.  At the intrusion, he 
sucked strongly but briefly in reflex.  When he stopped, she pulled 
gently, and felt the 'pop' Traci had described.  William's mouth fell 
open slackly and she shifted him away from her breast.  His tiny 
rosebud lips first drew closed, and then smacked them together, as if 
he were still nursing, for just a second.  His eyes remained shut, his 
expression peaceful.

Scully felt slightly nervous when Traci suggested Mulder take William 
outside to the waiting room, where several 'anxious men' were waiting.
It was silly, but she wasn't ready to let go of William yet.  In fact, 
she was certain she wouldn't be ready to let him go for some time.   
But Mulder had barely held him, and she had seen the look on his face 
when Traci had mentioned the Lone Gunmen.  

He wanted to show off his son.

Mulder's expression was neutral as he looked at her, but she could see 
the need in his eyes.  "That okay, Mom?"

Smiling a little, she replied, "That's okay.  Dad."  She moved her 
hands to better support William as she lifted him, nearly groaning as 
his weight was removed from her stomach.  Mulder's hands were there to 
replace hers, and with just a bit of awkwardness, William was in 
Mulder's arms.  She watched them both, her arms already feeling empty, 
and tried to convey only her love and pride.

But Mulder saw right through her, of course.  His smile said it all.  
It said, 'Relax, Scully, I will keep him safe.  You don't need to 
worry.'  Then he reiterated his unspoken vow verbally, and said with a 
gentle tone, "We'll be right back, Scully, I promise."

And he would be, she knew.  She relaxed the muscles that had tensed up 
when William had left her arms, and let her smile widen.  "I know," she 
told him.  "I love you."

She got a teasing wink in reply, and then they were walking away, 
towards the door.  Craning her neck, she watched them, smiling softly 
at the 'baby walk' Mulder had instinctively adopted – that half-
sway/half-step walk parents with a newborn seem to know automatically.
His bent close to his son's then and he whispered something she could 
barely make out.  She heard the words 'uncles' and 'scary', and knew 
somehow he was talking about the Gunmen.  It was all she could do not 
to laugh.

Once Mulder and William had left the room, Traci came over and said 
cheerfully, "Okay, Dana.  I just need to take your temperature and 
blood pressure, then check to see if there's any excessive bleeding."  
The nurse efficiently did so, reporting everything was normal as she 
jotted the information down on Scully's chart.  Putting it aside, she 
said, "Let's get you up and to the washroom."  

Scully shifted and tried to push at the covers, but was unable to reach 
them without causing undue stress on her still tender belly.  Traci 
quickly whisked the sheet off of her, and then wrapped her hand around 
Scully's upper arm.  She offered support as Scully swung her legs 
slowly and carefully to hang off the bed, and then inched herself 
forward until her feet had touched the ground.

Standing, she wobbled slightly, secure in the knowledge that Traci was 
there.  The nurse made sure she was stable before closing the back of 
Scully's hospital gown, holding it closed with her hand at the middle 
of Scully's back.  

Together they shuffled forward, Scully trying not to wince as her sore 
hip and leg complained.  They took it slow, and at last they made it to 
the washroom.  Scully was a little nervous about this part, she was 
certain it was going to sting.

It did, a little, but not as badly as she had thought.  Traci handed 
her a little bottle of distilled liquid soap, which she told Scully to 
squirt on herself.  As Scully did so, Traci explained possible symptoms 
or signs that there could indicate a problem, and advised Scully to 
buzz for help immediately if she experienced any sharp or sudden pains 
in her abdomen.  

A bottle of plain water for rinsing was next, and after patting herself 
dry, Scully rose slowly and baby-stepped her way to the sink.  There, 
she washed her hands and splashed some water on her face which she 
dried with a hand towel provided by Traci, before looking at her 
reflection in the mirror above the sink.

She was a little pale, and her hair was somewhat lank, but all in all, 
she didn't look half-bad.

Traci next handed her a clean gown, which she took and changed into, 
glad to be out of the other one, now a little worse for wear.  A thin 
hospital robe was next, and then they headed out of the bathroom, Traci 
not supporting her, but walking close by in case.  

Instead of resuming her spot on the bed, she was directed to sit in a 
wheelchair, which she had not noticed before.  Traci tucked a pillow 
behind her back and asked her if she needed a blanket to cover her 
legs.  

"No, thank-you," she replied.  "I'm fine."  She shifted a bit in the 
not quite comfortable wheelchair, still tender in her nether regions, 
and suddenly realized she didn't even know the statistics on her son.  
"Traci, what were William's Apgar scores?  And his birth weight and 
height?"

The nurse paused in the process of bundling up the dirty linen from the 
bed, and turned.  "Apgar at one minute was 8, and at five minutes it 
was 9.  Good scores.  William weighed in at seven pounds, eleven 
ounces, and measured 21 inches long.  I like the name 'William', by the 
way."

Scully smiled at the nurse. "Thank-you. It has a special meaning to his 
father and I."

"I'll go see if your two boys are finished visiting, and then we'll get 
you to your room," Traci said then, and headed out with the dirty linen 
in her arms.

Scully sat in the wheelchair and awaited the arrival of her 'two boys'.

***


6:20 pm


Mulder held the sleeping William in his arms, moving gently with the 
motions of the rocking chair he sat upon.  It was comfortably padded, 
and he had pulled it right next to Scully's bed.  His legs were 
stretched out in front of him and his ankles were crossed.  One foot 
provided the occasional push necessary to keep the chair in motion.

At a soft sigh from beside him, he lifted his eyes from his son, and 
turned his head to study the sleeping woman in the bed.

With a fond smile, he recalled how they had been in the middle of a 
conversation about possible middle names for William when Scully just 
stopped talking in mid-sentence.  He had been studying the baby's tiny 
facial features, and when her voice had trailed off, he had glanced up 
curiously.  To see her with her head slumped to one side, her eyes 
closed and her mouth hanging open just slightly.

He had been alarmed for the briefest of seconds, until he remembered 
reading that many women often came down from the 'adrenaline high' of 
childbirth not long after, and were exhausted.  Her body needed to 
recuperate.

Scully had been sleeping now; deeply it appeared, for the last half 
hour.  Aside from the odd sigh or snore – despite her vehement 
protestations to the contrary, Scully did snore on occasion – she had 
not moved at all.  

Her face was still pale, and the tiny lines that bracketed her mouth 
had yet to disappear, but to him, she looked absolutely beautiful.  He 
was completely content to watch both she and William sleep.

Fortunately, William seemed to be equally tired from the ordeal of his 
birth, so to speak, and was not yet making any demands on his mother.  
In fact, the little guy had only awakened briefly while being shown off 
to the Gunmen and Skinner and Doggett, and had been asleep ever since.

Mulder glanced down then at William, his smile widening as his mind 
replayed that first meeting.  Langly and Frohike had behaved like 
strutting cocks, as if it had been they who had produced their progeny, 
not he.  He was thankful they had contained their back-slapping to each 
other, and touched when Frohike had produced cigars for all – blue-
colored bubble gum, labeled "It's a Boy!"  Byers had been his usual 
taciturn self, albeit with a much wider then normal grin.

A particular moment had caused Mulder to choke back laughter there in 
the waiting room, and to stifle a chuckle at the memory, so as not to 
disturb Scully or William.  In his enthusiasm, Langly had gone to clap 
Skinner on one broad shoulder, and the AD had merely lifted a brow, 
enough to send the scrawnier Langly back a few steps, his hands raised 
in mock surrender.

Then Skinner had turned his beaming face to William, his normally 
military stiff carriage relaxed, his facial features softened, and 
cooed at the baby.  It was surely a memory for the books.  Skinner 
cooing.  And the AD's look, after realizing the five men around him 
were regarding him with stunned, bemused expressions, was also a 
keeper.

Where had Mrs. Scully and her camera been when he needed them?

Doggett had appeared as genuinely pleased as the rest, though he had 
been somewhat reticent in his congratulations.  He had offered quiet 
words, and inquired into Scully's well-being, looking relieved when 
Mulder had replied that she was doing great.

While Mulder thought it was unlikely he would ever consider John 
Doggett a close, personal friend, he had realized one thing earlier on 
– the man cared for Scully, and had been a friend to her during 
Mulder's absence.  For that, Mulder would accept the man's continued 
presence in their lives, and be civil, if not friendly.  Mulder knew 
Scully recognized and appreciated his efforts to do so.  Doggett had 
joined them twice more for dinner, after their first, less-than-
auspicious meeting.  Once with Skinner present, and once when it had 
just been the three of them.  Scully had made only one comment about 
hoping she would not need to play referee that night, and he had been 
on his best behavior.  

He had been handsomely rewarded much later that night too.

It wasn't until after all the congratulations had been said that Mulder 
had noticed a grouping of shiny, helium-filled balloons clustered in 
one corner, bobbing slowly in the currents of air in the waiting room.
He watched them spin and float gently, counting seven in total, and 
read each one.  Two had the traditional "It's a Boy!" on a blue 
background, one had 'Congratulations' scrolled in pastels across its 
silver front and back, and two were pictures of stylized storks with a 
baby hanging from their mouths.  Yet another one had a picture of 
Winnie the Pooh on it, with the words 'Welcome, baby' on it, and the 
last simply had a picture of pastel-colored teddy bears.

Seeing Frohike's grinning countenance, he had suspected the balloons 
were from the little man.  Confirmation had arrived in the form of 
Frohike's embarrassed shrug, and Langly's quipped, "Uncle Frohike went 
a little crazy in the gift shop."

Mulder craned his head a bit, careful not to jostle William, to look at 
the balloons.  Their ribbons were now looped around the back of a chair 
in one corner, out of the way but still visible. 

Scully's tired face had shone with pleasure, a smile slowly growing on 
her lips, when he had toted the balloons into the room, on the heels of 
Mrs. Scully, who was happily carrying William.  

Frohike had declined the invitation to bring the balloons in himself 
and visit briefly, saying all three of them would come back some time 
the next day, that Scully should get her rest.  Mulder had easily seen 
that she had been touched by Frohike's thoughtfulness, but also glad 
the Gunmen's visit had been postponed for the time being.

Skinner and Doggett had both asked him to pass on their congratulations 
and well wishes to Scully, saying that they too would visit the next 
day.  Mrs. Scully had arrived then, and herded them all together for a 
picture, with he and William in the center.  Mulder had then passed the 
baby to her willing arms, receiving her camera in exchange, and shook 
hands with the guys, thanking them for being there.  After they had 
filed out of the waiting room, he had turned back to see Mrs. Scully 
rocking back and forth on her feet, talking soft baby nonsense to 
William.  He had quickly snapped a couple pictures, before she noticed 
him watching her.

Mrs. Scully had taken several pictures of the three of them, with he 
perched on the mattress beside Scully, and William in Scully's arms.  
She had then kissed them all one at a time after he had settled into 
the rocking chair with William, and told them to call her if they 
needed anything at all.  Next she passed on Tara's congratulations, and 
the news that Bill was at sea, and that she had not yet been able to 
reach Charles.  Promising to return in the morning, she had left after 
one last fond look at William.

It had been nice to sit with just the two of them, and William, of 
course, after such a long day with people around them at almost every 
moment.  And it was just as nice now, with both Scully and William 
sleeping while he sat guard.

Suddenly in his hand, the one cupped under William's bottom, there was 
this odd stirring, or fluttering, accompanied by a most explosive 
sound.  Which was immediately followed by a very obnoxious smell, one 
that had Mulder close to gagging.  "Buddy!" he exclaimed in surprise, 
rather loudly.  He looked quickly over at Scully, worried he had 
disturbed her, and saw that she had turned her head to the other side.  
She made a soft, sighing sound, but did not move further.

William woke then though, with a very loud, unhappy cry, his face 
screwed up in righteous anger and rapidly turning quite red.  His 
little limbs began fighting the restrictive blanket, and his cry turned 
into squalling.

"Shhhh..." Mulder crooned, trying to keep his own tone of voice down, 
and started rocking William with more intent.  He flicked his eyes to 
Scully again, and watched her stir.  He awkwardly got to his feet, and 
began to sway, still saying, "Shhh, shhh, shhh."

"Mulder?" asked Scully's sleep voice.  "Is he hungry?"

"Ahhhh, maybe," he said, finding it necessary to raise his voice to be 
heard over the volume of William's crying.  "But he...uh, he...I think 
he pooped."

"That is a normal bodily function, Mulder," Scully responded dryly, and 
started to push her covers aside, her tiredness obvious.

"Hey, Scully.  You stay there, I can handle this," he told her, still 
swaying, if a little more quickly now.  He moved in a circle, looking 
for somewhere to lay William down.  Despite being brand-new at this, 
even he knew a flat surface was required.  And supplies.

"I'll buzz the nurse," Scully said, and did so, while he rocked and 
swayed and made 'shhh' noises at William.

A few minutes later, Traci bustled in.  "How are you doing, Mom and 
Dad?" she said cheerily.  Her eyes lit on the squalling William.  "Uh-
oh.  Someone's not a happy camper.  Come on over here, Dad."

'Here' was the bassinette.  It was basically a deep, clear plastic bed 
that sat atop a low, two-doored chest on wheels.  There was a blue card 
tucked in a little sleeve at one end, and he could make out 'Boy – 
Scully' in black marker, along with William's birth weight and height, 
the room number, and the doctor's name.

Traci opened the doors to reveal one shelf bisecting the chest in two 
halves.  On the top shelf was a small stack of tiny diapers, a 
container of baby wipes, and what looked to be a stack of washcloths.  
On the bottom shelf, which was also the bottom of the chest, were 
several extra receiving blankets and a washbasin.  She removed the 
basin, the wipes, several of the cloths, and a diaper.  Closing the 
doors, she then demonstrated to Mulder, and Scully, now sitting up in 
the bed, how the bassinette turned into a change table, by sliding out 
a flat section of board from beneath the bed.

"Come with me, Dad, to wash your hands first."

He followed Traci obediently to the bathroom, where she took William 
from him easily, and held him while Mulder thoroughly washed and dried 
his hands.  Oddly enough, William settled down in her hold, reduced to 
tiny cries.

Once he was done, she handed William back to Mulder and said, "I'll 
fill the basin with warm water," Traci said.  "You lay William down and 
unwrap him."

Mulder carefully shifted William and got him situated on the makeshift 
change table.  He slowly unwrapped the blanket from the crying baby, 
while making soft, cooing noises, trying to calm him down.  But 
apparently William was having none of his soothing efforts.  He also 
seemed to be quite averse to being nearly naked – he shivered, his 
hands and feet drawn into his body, and started his full-throated 
crying again.

Traci returned then, and put the bowl of water to one side, as William 
did not take up the entire space.  "Okay," she said.  "Undo his diaper, 
Dad."

Mulder's fingers felt enormous and clumsy as he plucked at the tabs on 
the sides that held the diaper on.  He peeled it back hesitantly; the 
smell having been a pre-warning that something unpleasant was likely to 
be found within.  His upper body recoiled when he was hit full force by 
the aroma of his son's very first bowel movement, and he automatically 
shut the diaper again.  Eyes watering, he began breathing through his 
mouth, trying to lessen the effect.

It was no use.  The smell was in his very lungs.  Holding his next 
breath, he yanked the diaper back again.  And was promptly baptized by 
a stream of urine in the face.  

Slamming his stinging eyes shut, he slapped the diaper down over his 
son's 'weapon' in mid-stream, hearing Scully's giggle, and Traci's 
choked, "Oh, dear."  A moment later a wipe was being pressed to his 
face, and she was telling him she had William.

He stepped back and wiped his face thoroughly, before cautiously 
opening his eyes and blinking.  Well, at least he could see.  And 
hopefully Traci could scrounge up a scrub shirt to replace his wet tee 
shirt.

"Mulder?" Scully called.  "Are you okay?"  

For her words, she certainly didn't sound concerned, he mused to 
himself.  She sounded downright amused as hell.  "Just ducky, dear," he 
called back with mock-tenderness.  "But you get the next diaper!"

"Okay, Dad, let's try this again," Traci said, taking his arm and 
pulling him back to his duty.  "For the future, and I'm sorry for not 
warning you sooner, little boys will always pee up.  When you first 
undo his diaper, pull back slowly, and be prepared to cover him up 
again."

Got it, he thought silently, while plotting a way to have Scully 
responsible for any and all diaper changes in the future.

Traci removed her hand from the loosened diaper and gestured for him to 
proceed.  Taking a deep breath and holding it, he lifted the diaper 
back slowly.  William was done with peeing for now, but what he had 
done earlier was frightening.

It looked like tar.  Thick blackish-green tar.

Traci saw him hesitate, and explained.  "That is meconium.  It's what 
filled his intestines before birth, and is completely normal.  Once 
he's expelled all the meconium, his movements will be softer and 
lighter in color.  Okay, lift his legs gently and pull the diaper out 
from underneath him."  She took it from him, wrapped it efficiently, 
and laid it aside for the moment.  She then handed him a cloth that she 
had soaked in the warm water.  "Always wipe from front to back, and be 
gentle."

One cloth was definitely not enough, he quickly saw, and realized that 
was why Traci had removed several.  By the time he was done, William's 
bottom was clean, and he had the stuff in his fingernails.

He held his hands up and away from his body, and seeing them, Traci 
laughed a little and said, "You watch me finish up, and then go wash 
your hands with soap and water, which you should do before and after 
every diaper change."  The nurse then capably wiped William with one 
last wet cloth before patting him dry with another, then took his feet 
and legs in one hand and lifted him, sliding the fresh diaper beneath 
his bottom flawlessly.  She picked up a small tube of ointment, and 
applied a scant amount to William's diaper area.  Showing him the 
ointment, she said, "We recommend you use this or something similar 
with every diaper change."  In seconds the tabs were sealed and William 
had been rebundled.  "Go ahead, Dad.  I'll take this little guy to his 
mom, I'm thinking he's hungry again."

Mulder headed to the bathroom yet again, and spent several minutes with 
his hands under nearly scalding hot water to get the very sticky 
substance from beneath his nails.

When he returned, Traci was waiting with a green scrub shirt for him, 
and William was at Scully's breast.

Mulder changed from the wet tee shirt, laying it over the arm of the 
chair for now, and then eased onto the bed beside Scully.  He put his 
arm around her shoulders, rubbing her upper arm gently.  She looked up 
at him briefly, smiling, and then looked back down at William.    

The baby's eyes were closed, but his jaw was working furiously.  Mulder 
could even hear tiny little noises that sounded like gulping.  One hand 
had slipped out of the blanket, and his tiny fingers were clutching 
Scully's index finger, held near his cheek.

"I have to say it again, Scully," he said softly.  "You are 
incredible."  He leaned closer and rested his head against hers, his 
nose almost buried in her hair.

"I love you too, Mulder," Scully replied, her voice equally soft.

Smiling, although she couldn't see it, Mulder carefully swung his legs 
up on the bed to make himself comfortable, and settled in to watch 
their little miracle.

***

End of Part 10

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