Ander - Part 2: Subchapter 29
29
"Oh dear gods Mother I'm going to die!" Sarah screamed. It felt like her midriff was being stabbed by daggers, daggers that were on fire, flaming daggers that were also coated with poison, and those flaming daggers coated with poison were somehow also shooting miniature flaming poison-coated daggers inside her body with each stab.
"You're not going to die, Sarah!" Mother yelled. Sarah thought she might be holding her hand, but she couldn't feel anything besides the ripping pain. "This is perfectly -"
"Don't you dare say this is perfectly normal, because it's not! This can't be what every vixen goes through, I just know it!"
The pain started to ebb a little, allowing her to catch her breath, but she knew it would just be another minute or two and then it would start all over again. Maybe even worse than before.
"This is normal!" Mother insisted. "I went through the exact same thing when I was in labour with you, and I came out of it just fine!"
"But you knew you were giving birth to a tiny little Fox cub! I don't know what on earth is coming out of me! Oh gods, Mother, Kadai was huge! What if this thing tears me open?"
"Well, that can happen even with regular Fox births."
"What!?"
"Remember Dayna who lives just outside of town? She tore right up to her navel with her first child."
"Oh my gods, Mother, now is not the time to tell me that!"
"What? She was perfectly fine. Couldn't walk right for a while, but she healed up and so will you, so just try to calm down, all right? And you might want to consider biting down on that belt, deary."
"No!" Sarah shook her head so hard the moistened towel flew off and landed on the floor with a splat. "It looks dirty!"
"It's brown, Sarah! That's what leather looks like!"
"I'd rather go without -"
She could feel the pain coming again, a deep, stabbing pain that drove away all thought and rationality. And it was still building!
"Oh gods..." Sarah considered whether grabbing that belt and shoving it into her mouth might not be such a bad idea after all. She reached for it, but in her panic her fingertips only succeeded in pushing it off the side of the bed, where it uncoiled onto the floor like a dead snake.
The pain crashed upon her - no, crashed into her and inside of her like a crumbling mountain, and that didn't even make sense, but neither did this amount of pain.
Sarah arched her back and looked straight up at the ceiling, screaming a silent scream. There were knots in the wood, here and there, looking like eyes staring down at her. Everything was going red and hazy along the edges, and Sarah actually found herself hoping that she was passing out, because maybe, in the depths of unconsciousness, she could escape this blinding pain for a while, just long enough to regain her senses.
No such luck.
The redness faded, but the pain only grew more intense, more concentrated. The daggers she imagined stabbing her belly were white-hot in her mind, with smoke rising from the blades.
This was too much. She couldn't hold it in any longer. Sarah opened her mouth and she screamed. She just screamed and screamed, an endless cry so loud it felt like it would cut her throat wide open. Surely, no one could suffer through this amount of pain and be expected to come out the other side? This wasn't some beautiful process of nature. This was brutal. This was torture. This was butchery! She could feel herself tearing open and by the gods the pain why won't it stop why can't it just stop!!?
"Sarah honey, stay with me. I can see the head, so the worst is almost over! Don't even think of passing out!"
"I can't do this, Mother!" Sarah managed between gritted teeth. "I don't want to! Please don't make me do this!"
"I'm afraid this is going to happen whether you want it to or not, so shut up and push!"
"I can't! It hurts! Oh Mother please it's killing me!"
"Just do it, dammit!"
Sarah pushed as hard as she could, and right when it felt like she couldn't go any farther, right when her body reached the absolute limit and the pain built into an unfathomable crescendo... everything just...
... released.
She suddenly felt empty inside; hollow and deflated. It was the most bizarre feeling, like a quarter of her bodyweight had simply evaporated.
If only the same could be said of her pain and exhaustion. The pain was fading away, yes, but ever so slowly, and her exhaustion wasn't ebbing at all. In fact, it felt like she was getting even more tired than she already was, like she had run the length of Grovenglen a hundred times over and a hundred times back.
Sarah closed her eyes and lay back against the sweat-soaked pillows, gasping for breath. It was hotter than a stove in here, and every muscle in her body was aching. She knew that having a baby was going to be tough, but she never imagined it would -
Her baby!
Sarah's eyes flew open and she tried to sit up, but she was so exhausted she couldn't even lift her head.
Why was it so quiet? Why couldn't she hear her baby crying?
Sarah gritted her teeth and managed to push herself up against the headboard just enough so she could see her mother standing by the foot of the bed, her back turned.
"Mother? What's happening?"
"Shush, dear."
"Mother, tell me!" She was so distraught, she didn't even notice the pool of blood between her legs, slowly seeping into the sheets, and even if she did, it would only be a secondary concern to the danger she sensed for her newborn child.
She could see her mother's elbow work back and forth, methodical in whatever task was being performed, and a black thought crept into Sarah's mind.
What if Mother was trying to kill her baby?
No, that's impossible. Mother would never do that.
But what if Father told her to? What if he demanded it?
That was harder to argue away.
Argh! If only she could think! Not melting into a pool of quivering half-dead vixen was hard enough already.
"Mother! Please answer me!"
Nothing. Just the movement of her elbow, back and forth... Was she trying to get her baby to breathe on its own? Or...?
"Motheeeer!"
A wail, sharp and piercing, but above all else, strong. It flooded the room with its sound, bringing with it a peace that settled in Sarah's heart. She slowly slipped down the headboard, listening to the cries of her baby, a smile on her face.
"Sarah?" Mother slowly turned around, a white bundle held carefully in her arms. Sarah could see it moving slightly in the dim candlelight, shadows flowing up and down the crests and valleys formed by her baby's arms and legs. But why was her mother's face so grave? Even though it was moving and crying with good, strong lungs, she was looking down at her grandchild like it was a stillborn.
"Mother? What's wrong?" Sarah croaked. It felt like her throat was on fire.
"I'm so sorry, dear," Mother said, finally looking her daughter in the eye. "I'm afraid there is no way this babe can pass for a Fox."
"Give him to me..." Sarah said, holding out her arms. "Let me see my baby..."
Mother slowly came closer, cleaning off the newborn as she went. The distance from the foot of the bed to where Sarah lay seemed like an infinite expanse, but when she finally leaned over and gently passed the cub over, everything else drifted away.
The pain, the worry, her overwhelming fatigue, the very room she was in, it all just vanished as she took her son in her arms and hugged him close, carefully pulling back the folds of the blanket so she could see his face.
He was covered in a soft pelt of brown fur, still wet and spiky in patches. It was so much like her own, but with a darker tint he must have gotten from his father.
Kadai... she could see so much of him in their son.
His eyes, already exploring her face with such curiosity, were exactly the same warm shade of brown as his father's. His tiny hands, gripping and pulling at the blanket around him, so strong. Sarah thought there might even be a hint of her own mother's colouration around the pup's ears, and maybe even a touch of her father to the shape of his nose.
"He's beautiful..." Sarah whispered, watching every movement of her son with the utmost wonder.
"Aye," Mother agreed, wiping a lonely tear from her eye. "That he is."
Sarah cautiously reached out and flattened a spiky tuft of fur on his forehead, treating her son like a precious glass ornament that could shatter into a thousand pieces at the slightest error.
The pup craned its neck to try and see what this strange, foreign appendage was up to, making a soft mewling noise in the back of his throat.
Sarah gasped as he actually made a grab for her wrist. His tiny fingers were nowhere close to being able to wrap all the way around, but she could still feel them pressing in on both sides, gripping her with a force she wouldn't have thought possible from one so small.
"Did you see that, Mother?" she asked, smiling from ear to ear.
"He seems a lively one," she replied, but a look of worry still lingered about her face, and in her blissful state Sarah was incapable of understanding why.
That was until she heard their front door burst open with a crash and a booming voice travelled throughout the house. "Sarah! Where are you, girl!?"
"Oh, dear..." Mother said, her eyes darting from Sarah's newborn baby to the closed bedroom door. "Your father is home..."
This scene was a very difficult one to write. As a single man and the youngest member of my family, I have no personal experience with childbirth, so everything you've read here is the product of research, either taken from medical websites or conversations with the women in my life who have given birth. I'll share some of my thoughts and findings with those interested enough to read this.
Sarah's labour in this scene, although rather painful, was considerably quicker than the average human birth, which can last anywhere from 15 to 72 hours (yes, you read that right). :O
In a previous subchapter I justified her human menstrual cycle by playing the anthro card. I'm doing so again for this scene, but in the opposite direction. Real life foxes give birth very quickly, so I feel the above scene is a reasonable representation of what an anthro birth might be like, with both human and animal aspects. This way of thinking also allows Ander to be born with his eyes open, which creates a much more personal connection between the characters, in my opinion.
For those of you wondering what Laura was doing while she had her back turned, rubbing the chest of a newborn is the first thing to do if it doesn't start breathing on its own. This has been a common practice for centuries, and is still standard procedure in hospitals today.
Oh, one more thing. That part about a woman tearing all the way up to the navel? It can totally happen. >.<
If you enjoy my story, please help keep my face un-mauled by irritable ostriches by dropping me a donation. Thank you! ^_^
Paypal: [email protected]
Donation Progress $24.34 / $100 (Unlock Sunday update)
First: https://www.sofurry.com/view/517235
Previous: https://www.sofurry.com/view/572696
Next: https://www.sofurry.com/view/574268
How and Why: The Story behind "Ander" (Journal): https://www.sofurry.com/view/517234
Special thanks go out to the following furs for helping me keep this project afloat with their generous donations. I couldn't do it without your support.
- Some random guy whose fursona name I don't know.
- PyrePup
- And PyrePup again! :)
Thank you! You guys are the best! ^_^