"Wait a minute," Albin objected. "Do either of you have training in this kind of manipulation? You could hurt the baby. You could cause internal damage to Kacie's reproductive system, you could --"
"I want them," Kacie ordered flatly. "They love me, and they love my baby. I want them."
"All right," Albin reluctantly agreed. "But I'm putting a surgical team on standby right now." He stepped to the head of the bed to the intercom grill and spoke into it tersely as Caine and Peter stepped closer to Kacie.
Caine spread the fingers of both hands and trailed his fingertips over and around Kacie's swollen belly. "Peter, you must connect with your child. Become one with him. Move with him. Move for him. I must stop Kacie's contractions."
Caine's repeated use of 'him' failed to register on Peter's brain as he placed his hands at the bottom of Kacie's belly. {Connect. Become one. Move. Move.} Light and sound faded, leaving only blackness. {Tight. So tight. Can't move. Pressure. So much pressure.}
Caine concentrated on Kacie, his stroking fingers relaxing her contracting muscles.
She locked her eyes onto his. "It-it doesn't hurt so much now," she whispered.
"Focus on my eyes. Look deeply into them. Feel yourself floating. Relaxed. Free. Breathe slowly, in through your nose, out through your mouth."
Nodding slightly, she obeyed, eyes wide and trusting.
{Pressure...easing. Move. Turn. Turn. Slide.} Peter's face contorted and his body jerked and twitched, his shoulders hunching closer and closer together, rounding, with one shoulder higher than the other. He gave a convulsive jerk and his eyes flew open. "What happened?"
Caine brushed his fingertips back and forth over Kacie's stomach one last time and then stepped back.
Kacie half-rose and fell back gasping, "He's coming. The baby's coming. I can feel him!" She reached for Peter, sweat streaming down her face and neck. "Help me. Peter...help me."
Albin sat down on his stool and wheeled to the foot of the bed as he pulled on a fresh pair of gloves. "How are you feeling, Kacie?"
"Push. I need to push. Peter. Peter?"
Peter put his face close to hers and cupped her cheek in his hand. "I'm here, Hon. I love you. I love you so much."
The doctor watched the ever-widening birth canal opening and encouraged his patient, "All right, Kacie. Go with the contraction. Push!"
She took two breaths and then, with the third, held it and gritted her teeth. Her frame shook with the effort of her straining as she arched up from her bed. With a panting groan, she sagged back against Peter, mouth open as she gasped for air.
Albin announced, "That was a good one, Kacie. You're doing great. You're doing great. There's the head. Baby's head is out now, Kacie. You're almost there, kiddo." He reached for the bulb syringe and deftly suctioned the baby's mouth and nostrils. Glancing up quickly at her, he commanded, "One more time. Push!"
Kacie tensed in Peter's arms and held her breath as she pushed, grimacing in concentration. Her scream of pain became a shout of triumph as the baby slid out of the birth canal, slippery with blood and fluid.
Peter watched in awe as suddenly there was another person in the room. Tears rolled unheeded down his cheeks as he stared at the wriggling, squirming bundle in the doctor's hands.
"It's a boy, Kacie. You and Peter have a son."
There came a choking, gurgling cry, and then the room was filled with the protests of the squalling, red-faced infant.
"We have a son, Peter!" Kacie's tears flowed freely as she watched the doctor toweling off the slippery child. "I told you we were having a boy. I told you!"
Peter kissed her and stroked her sweat-soaked hair back from her face. "I love you, Kace. I love you. Thank you for my son. He's so beautiful. Just like you. He's so beautiful."
"What's his color? His reflex? His breathing? Is he all right? Is everything there?" she demanded and watched anxiously as the doctor and his nurse examined the screaming newborn.
"You've got a ten here, Kacie. And you know how often that happens."
Kacie laughed and clutched at Peter's hand. "Oh, Honey. It's a standing joke at the hospital that only pediatrician's babies have a ten for their APGAR. He's all right. Our baby is here, and he's all right!"
Albin laid the baby, umbilical cord still attached, on Kacie's stomach. She reached out eager hands to touch the squalling infant. "Hi, Baby," she crooned. "This is your Mommy. Mommy loves you so much." She helped to hold the warming blanket in place over the screaming child, who abruptly stopped crying and turned his head in the direction of his mother's voice.
Albin continued his post-delivery procedures. "You're doing fine, Kacie. I think you're about ready to deliver the placenta. Why don't you see if you can get him to nurse, OK?"
Kacie drew the infant up to her chest. Holding her breast in one hand, she offered the nipple to the baby, tickling the side of his mouth with the tip, and he automatically rooted at it, opening first one eye and then the other as he peered cautiously at his surroundings. Catching sight of the proffered nipple, he licked at it tentatively, then firmly attached himself to it and suckled. "That's a good boy, Punkin. You're such a good boy. Not every baby takes to the breast this fast. You are so special, Baby!"
Peter reached out a shaking hand and gently touched the downy head of this perfect miniature of himself. "He's so tiny."
Kacie quickly disagreed. "Oh, no, he's not, Peter. Trust me. Tiny he is not."
He leaned over and kissed her, their tears mingling as he briefly rested his cheek against hers. "You're so wonderful, Sweetheart. If I were any happier, my heart would burst out of my chest."
"Peter, would you like to cut the cord?"
Peter straightened up and stared wide-eyed at the doctor. "Won't-won't I hurt him?"
Albin shook his head. "There's no nerves in that tissue. It won't hurt a bit."
Peter's hand trembled as he severed the cord where the doctor indicated. He stared down at his newborn son and distinctly heard a voice that had spoken to him once before. "Does not the pebble entering the water begin fresh journeys? Such is the journey through life. It begins; it ends; yet fresh journeys go forth. Father begets son, who becomes in turn father, who begets son." The child momentarily stopped suckling, and newborn eyes were strangely ancient as they met Peter's. When Peter blinked, the image was gone. He mentally shook himself. {Excitement must be getting to me.}
Albin put his hand on Kacie's belly and and gently but firmly massaged her uterus as he captured the afterbirth in a metal pan. Checking it carefully, he grunted in satisfaction. "Placenta's healthy and all here." He finished examining Kacie and heaved a sigh of relief. "No excessive bleeding. No apparent uterine or vaginal tears." He looked up at Peter. "You were lucky."
"There was no luck involved here. Right, Pop?" He looked around the room. "Pop? Where'd he go?"
The doctor stared in surprise. "I never saw him leave. How'd he do that?"
Peter laughed. "Don't ask." He leaned over Kacie and kissed her forehead. "Are you all right, Sweetheart?"
"I'm wonderful." Kacie was unable to take her eyes off the infant in her arms. "You're here," she crooned. "You're really here, and I can see who's been kicking me all this time. Mommy loves you, Sweetheart."
"When he's done nursing, we'll weigh him and measure him and get him cleaned up for you. My guess is he's over nine pounds and twenty-one inches." Albin grinned as he saw the new parents were paying absolutely no attention to him. He shared a look with the nurse and chuckled. "God, I love my work."