#tw: premature births

[norrisleclercf1]

It’s Too Early

Pairing: Charles x Pregnant!Reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Tough pregnancy, premature birth, PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome), IVF mentioned, angst, fluff at the end

Synopsis: Being pregnant hasn’t been easy, especially when Charles is away for the season and can’t be with you 24/7 like he wants to be. So what happens when he finds out you went into labor from a reporter? Chaos, utter chaos

A/N: Wrote this morning and I picked PCOS because that's something I suffer with all the time, and felt the need to write a fic about now, everyone's experience with PCOS and the topics discussed in this are different, I did research and put my own hardships and feelings in this, I hope everyone reads with an open mind and enjoys this but also Dad!Charles who could give up Dad!Charles

Charles would kill for you; he really would. And right now, he wanted nothing more than to kill the FIA, who would refuse to let him sit out this season to be with you, his pregnant wife.

Finding out you were pregnant was the happiest day of his life, but soon it turned...not a nightmare, but a living hell. You were classified as a high-risk pregnancy due to polycystic ovarian syndrome, something you let Charles know when you first started dating.

He was there through the painful periods, the cramps that left you defenseless and laying in bed all day, to the doctor visits and the mood swings. Through it all, he was still with you and loved you more and more each day.

When you both married and settled down a bit more, the conversation of becoming pregnant came up. Charles knew the risks and had done research before bringing it up with you; he even explored other ways of having children. But you told him you wanted to try naturally and go from there before discussing different ways and seeing what happens.

After 3 years of trying and doing everything, even trying IVF, that damn stick showed that fucking plus sign. You sat in the bathroom for hours just staring at the positive test, and that's precisely how Charles found you when he came home. On the bathroom floor, staring at the test.

He can still feel the tile on his skin as he hugs and kisses you, calming your fears away from the worst thoughts in your head.

It hasn't been an easy pregnancy, from cramps to horrible morning sickness, to the doctors worried you might give birth way too early, even being put on bedrest for the rest of the pregnancy due to worries of preeclampsia. Charles fought hard with the FIA, saying he needed to be with you, but they refused to listen and told him he needed to race. You talked him off the ledge as he called to quit and stay home.

"Charles stop; this is ridiculous. You love racing; you aren't quitting because of me." You groaned, going in circles with your mess of a husband.

"No! What's ridiculous is that the FIA won't even see why my wife has a high-risk pregnancy and that I'm needed home, not driving in goddamn circles!" He snaps, slamming his phone down and pulling his hair.

"Char, breath." You whisper from the bed, in agony, simply because you can't get up and comfort your husband.

Charles, almost sensing your dilemma moves from the end of the bed to laying down next to you, placing his head on your chest, careful of your swollen breasts, knowing how much they've been hurting lately. No words are said as fingers run through his hair to calm him down and stop him from making a huge mistake.

"Charles, I'll have your mother here with me. Me and the baby are going to be okay. Listen, if anything changes, I will call you immediately. You can't miss this; you have a real chance this year and must show the world that Charles Leclerc will be a World Champion." Your words convince him as he lets off that familiar defeated sigh of his, making your smile grow at this.

"Immediately. Do you understand? I don't care if it's stupid like your back itches you call me." He bargains, making you laugh and nod in agreement.

Pascale has been staying with you for only a month, and you finally reached the safe zone, where if you did go into labor, it wouldn't be so dangerous for you or the baby. It was race day, and Charles was in Silverstone, needing to finish P2 or higher to challenge Max for the title.

It was a typical day as Pascale fixed you a light snack as you weren't feeling well, your lower back was hurting, and it felt like your pelvis had its own heartbeat. You didn't think much of it as it was a hot day in Monte Carlo, and you had read in books that it was customary to feel this, so you didn't say anything to Pascale to not worry her. The race was halfway through when the first real cramp startled you to the point you dropped your cup; thankfully, it was rubber, so it didn't break.

"Y/n? Honey, what's wrong?" Pascale was right there in an instant picking up the cup, looking over you.

"Just...a cramp, it's nothing." You mummer rubbing your stomach but flinch from how much it hurts to touch it.

"Y/n, when did this start?" Pascale asks calmly, knowing it was wise to keep you calm and not start to freak out because you might be in early labor.

"Last night, but it's picked up this morning. It's nothing, Pascale, honestly, just the baby moving." You try to reason, not wanting to jump straight to labor.

"Y/n, I'm calling for an ambulance, okay? I think you might be in early labor, and with you being on bed rest, they need to help me, alright." She mummers pushing your hair back, trying everything to keep you calm.

"Okay, okay." You repeat as the cramp passes, and you hear her on the phone telling them everything as you force yourself to pay attention to the race and not to the growing pit in your stomach that you might be in labor.

They get here fast as you breathe through another cramp. Tears start to flutter down your cheeks, the realization of you possibly in labor while Charles isn't here, but in the UK. They ask you question after question and share a look, a look that sets you off.

"No! No! I'm not in labor, okay? I'm just having some cramps, which is normal; I have PCOS; okay, nope, I'm not." You argue as the medics alert the hospital to your condition.

"Mrs. Leclerc, I understand that you are only 29 weeks and you're scared, but right now, you are in early labor, and we need to get you to the hospital as soon as we can, okay?" The friendly medic tries to reason with you, but you refuse to see reason.

"I'm sorry, but no. Charles isn't here; he should be here; I can't do this alone. I'm sorry, but I'm not going anywhere." You argue as Pascale packs your bags and looks over at you.

"Y/n, I know you are scared, but Charles isn't here right now, but he will be okay. I'll call him when the race is over and let him know immediately what's going on. But, please, if you wait, it'll be worse for you and the baby." She can reason with you, finally getting you to the hospital as you try hard to stay calm and not make things worse.

But of course, Pascale could never make the phone call as everyone was too busy keeping you calm.

Charles was on top of the world. He had won Silverstone and was only 4 points behind Max now. Sticky with champagne, he checks his phone, looking for the standard text from you, but not seeing a text from you, he hits dial, calling you. But, you don't pick up, making him call you again, yet again, you don't pick up.

He reasons you must be asleep, knowing you had been super tired lately, and his mother said everything was fine. You're eating normally and just sleeping or reading. He moves and takes a picture of the trophy, telling you he won it for you and the baby and he couldn't wait to get back home to you both. Sadly, he's pulled away from his phone to go do media even though he wants to head to the airport and go home, but he needs to do this first.

Only 4 more hours before heading to the plane, then another 5 to 6 hours before he's back home to you.

He makes it through all 5 interviews before coming to the last one, Pierre on his right and Carlos on his left as they all give their final interviews.

"Charles, amazing race. I have to say that it was fabulous to see you win this and to have your teammate and your childhood best friend up there. It must've been something." The reporter gushes, making Charles smile at how genuine the reporter is.

"Yes, um, having Carlos and Pierre be there next to me was something. I mean, the Red Bulls put up one hell of a fight, but we know not to get too comfortable and that we really need to start pushing it more and more each day so we can close the gap and pull in front of them." Charles smiles.

"Yes, this must be a wonderful day with you; with what winning Silverstone and your wife going into labor, you must be just on top of the world." Charles freezes, hearing the words come out of the reporter's mouth and let's put a nervous laugh.

"I'm sorry? My wife isn't in labor," he argues, starting to fidget and lick his lips.

''Really? Reports are that she went into labor at the start of lap 23 and has been at the hospital, your mother." Having cut the camera, realizing that Charles honestly had no idea.

"Nope, she's not, okay, she's not in labor. She would've called." he snaps, hands fumbling for his phone, trying to call you again. This time, it goes to voicemail, sending his heart plummeting to his feet.

"Alright, that's enough for today." Pierre voices and grabs Charles leading him away from prying eyes as he keeps calling you repeatedly.

"Charles. Charles, stop!" Pierre yells, snatching the phone away as his friend cries. Fear takes over Charles as he starts to imagine the worst. What if something was seriously wrong, and you went into early labor. You're only 29 weeks. That's 6 months. Yes, the baby would be okay, but would you?

"Come on, let's go to the hotel. Get your stuff, and you and I will fly out and call your mom. Okay, let's go." Pierre reasons, dragging his friend away and to the cars trying to calm down Charles.

'Pierre calls Pascale and puts her on the speaker; thankfully, the woman picks up after 3 rings.

"Why the fuck didn't you call me the moment she went into labor? I wouldn't give a damn if I was still in the car. Why didn't you call!" Charles rips out before Pascale can say anything, and Pierre groans, knowing that if the situation was different, the Ferrari driver's mother would bury his ass in the ground.

"Because Charles, I've been trying to keep her calm. She's freaking out because you're not here, and honestly, honey, I forgot, as I was trying to make sure your wife's blood pressure doesn't get worse; now, get here as fast as you can because she's almost fully dilated and she needs you Charles, and she needs you to be calm and strong for her because right now she's not." Pascale hangs up, leaving the car in a stiff eerie silence.

"Get me to the airport as fast as you can," Charles whispers, making Pierre nod to ensure he'd get there.

"I can't do this, Pascale; nope, I'm sorry, but I can't. It hurts too much, please, make it stop." you cry as your mother-in-law soothes you. She tells you Charles is on the way. But that did nothing to comfort you. It only made you more anxious about the fact that this would happen.

"Y/n, I know you're scared but Charles will be here soon, okay? But you can't stop pushing, okay? All these nurses and doctors are here to help you, ow let them." She urges as you scream out from another contraction.

"I want Charles." You sob, collapsing against the bed from exhaustion. This was too much for you, the pain, Charles, and everyone in the room; you can't do this.

"Baby!" A familiar voice cries out as the door swings open, and Charles runs in. His hair is messy, and he looks so bewildered you could kiss him, but all you can do is scream.

"WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?!" Making Pascale and everyone else jump, Charles just smiles and pushes everyone out of the way to get to your side.

"I'm sorry, I was on a plane, and my phone wasn't working." And lies, not wanting to tell the truth of no one telling him but a reporter that you were in labor.

"You're lucky I'm giving birth right now or so; help me go-" Your words get cut off by another contraction, making you grab Charles's hand and squeeze it so hard he'd thought it'd break.

"Okay, Mrs. Leclerc, we need you to push." the doctor instructs while Pascale slips outside, startled to see half the grid in the hallway.

"Come on, let's give them some privacy." Pascale smiles, wrapping an arm around Pierre as she leads the boys down the hallway.

"I love you," Charles whispers, kissing your forehead, not caring for a minute you are drenched in sweat.

"I love you too, but we're adopting or surrogacy next time." You cry as you get one more contraction, everyone yelling at you to push, and soon your cries are mixed in with smaller ones.

"He's here. He's here." Charles repeats, kissing you all over and making sure you are okay. He wanted to check on his baby, but first, he needed to ensure you were alright.

"It's a boy? We had a little boy." You whimper, leaning into Charles's chest as you cry in relief that everything went as smoothly as possible.

"He's perfect, Y/n, all ten toes and fingers, and god, I love you so much." Charles mummers finally kissing you while the nurse cleans up your son.

"Here you go." the nurse smiles, handing you your son, who cries his little lungs out but soon stops when he's placed on your chest.

"He'll need to go to NICU for just a night so we can go over everything and make sure there are no complications, but after that, he can come down here and stay with you, Momma." the nurse smiles, going back to help make sure your vitals and everything else was good.

'Charles, and you can't help but stare at your little boy while you start to feel that ache and tiredness settle in, but Charles holds you both, his entire world in his arms.

"We need a name," Charles whispers, making you hum in agreement.

"I've got the perfect one. Also, tell Pierre I say thank you for getting you here."

Charles blinks down at you, confused, but you just giggle.

"I can smell his cologne." Making Charles laugh right along with you.

You fell asleep after picking the name, and the nurses follow Charles to the waiting room where everyone is, Pascale the first to see her son.

"Everyone," Charles starts making the others turn their heads, Isa and Carmen gushing at the tiny little baby in Charles's arms.

"Meet Pierre Hervé Jules Leclerc." Charles announces, making everyone laugh as Pierre stands there stunned, looking at his best friend holding his son.

"Really?" Pierre asks, making Charles nod. "Of course, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have gotten here in one piece. Also, Y/n says thank you." Charles smiles but adds, "she could smell your cologne on my clothes." Making everyone laugh at this.

"Can I hold him?" Pascale asks, but Charles shakes his head no.

"Sorry, but he won't be held by anyone but us and the staff for right now; he's got to go to the NICU overnight, and frankly, I want Y/n to get a say who holds him first after us, Mother." Charles smiles, but Pascale just beams, seeing Charles transform before her.

"Say goodbye to all your uncles and aunts, Pierre," Charles whispers, laying him in the trolly as the nurse reassures him that he'll be fine and he can come up and visit if he'd like.

Everyone watches as the Ferrari driver just smiles at his boy and leans down, whispering something to the baby before pulling away and watching the nurses take him a floor up.

"What did you say?" Pierre asks his friend.

"We'd always love and protect him, and he's only allowed to root for Ferrari." He laughs, making Pascale slap her son on the arm, everyone joining in on the laughter, a memory no one would forget.

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 imagine #f1 2022 #f1 scenario #formula one #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles imagine #charles x reader #charles x y/n #f1 charles leclerc #Charles leclerc angst #dad!charles #tw: pregnancy #tw: premature births #tw: pcos #tw: rough pregnancy #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x reader

[joelsgreys]

softness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Joel’s a little unsure of doing skin to skin with his newborn daughter.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. established relationship. (TW) PREGNANCY. mentions of premature birth, minor descriptions of childbirth, mentions of birth weight, it is implied that reader is breastfeeding her baby, semi accurate medical journal research, girldad! Joel, mentions of scars (Joel), mentions of insecurities and anxieties, if i missed anything, please let me know! NO MENTION OF READER’S AGE. NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER. no physical description of child except for her hair color/type. very minimal editing.

word count: 3.5k

a/n: i had this outline sitting in my drafts and i decided to finally just write it out and post it. it ain’t much, but it’s honest work. it is part of the safe and sound universe.

She’d made her entrance into the world early.

About four or five weeks, the commune’s doctor thinks.

Without ultrasounds, it’d been a guessing game.

And a fucking terrifying guessing game at that.

For several months, all you could do was hope.

Hope for a smooth pregnancy.

Hope for a safe labor and delivery.

Hope for a strong, healthy baby.

When you went into labor earlier than the doctor had predicted you would, all of your hopes shattered, the pieces falling around you like shards of broken glass you couldn’t put back together even if you tried.

“No! No, it’s too soon! It’s too fucking soon!” you’d cried out, the sheer panic setting in and seeping into your bones as a warm, clear liquid dripped down the insides of your legs and pooled around your bare feet. You had been in the kitchen making Ellie breakfast and packing her lunch for school—one second you’re standing there in front of the food pantry debating with yourself on what vegetable to throw into the kid’s lunch bag with her sandwich and the next you’re calling out for help as an intense pressure nestled itself between your hips. It wasn’t until you heard a faint popping sound and then felt the gush of fluid between your thighs that you’d realized what was happening. An unmistakable first sign of labor, you’d experienced your water breaking. “This can’t be happening, it’s not time yet!”

Joel, who by some stroke of sheer stupid luck had the morning off from patrol duty, instructed Ellie to run upstairs and gather some clean clothes along with a pair of boots and the warmest coat you owned that still fit. November had brought along the first snowfall of the season—the frigid temperatures outside were anything but kind and the clinic was on the opposite side of the commune, a fifteen minute walk he wished you didn’t have to make in your condition. “I know this is real fuckin’ scary darlin’ but y’need to stay calm. I need you to stay as calm as possible. Y’think that you can do that for me, sweetheart?”

He’d been just as terrified, but he masked it well.

On the outside, he kept a calm, collected composure for your sake and for Ellie’s too, shoved aside his own fears so he could be the support you both needed, act as the glue that held yours and his little family unit together should anything were to happen. But on the inside, he was scared shitless, to say the least. He couldn’t be certain he would have the strength to hold himself together if something went wrong, if he lost you—or his unborn child.

Admittedly, it had taken him a few months to come to terms with the fact that he was going to be a father again at this stage in his life. The thought of him changing diapers at his age was one he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around—but the moment he felt that first little flutter of movement one night as you lay curled up against his side fast asleep, something shifted. That night, he had stayed wide awake, his large hand splayed over your belly in hopes he would feel that little flutter again.

“Joel, I’m really fucking scared. What if it’s too early—”

“Baby, look at me.” He reached up and gently took your chin, holding it between his thumb and index finger as he coaxed your gaze to meet his own. “S’gonna be okay,” he’d assured you, softly. “If this is happenin’ now, it’s because she’s ready, alright?”

For a split second, that panic had ceased.

“She?”

Confused, Joel’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“You just referred to the baby as a she, Joel.”

“I did?”

“Yeah—just now.” You’d stared at him with curiosity and took a step back, cradling your belly in both of your hands. “Do you think we’re having a girl?”

Sheepishly, he had shaken his head at you.

“No, I just—m’sorry. I ain’t all too sure why I said that.”

He truly, honestly hadn’t.

It’d slipped before he could even think about it.

But his accidental slip had been right.

After thirteen hours of grueling labor in Jackson’s small clinic, you’d given birth to a little girl, the sound of her loud wailing filling the whole room like a sweet melody eliciting a sob of joy from you and a shaky sigh of relief from Joel.

“Holy shit, she’s here! She’s actually fucking here,” Ellie breathed, her eyes going wide. Her arms were still wrapped around one of your legs—despite you warning the teenager about what she would see, it hadn’t stopped her from volunteering her assistance in the childbirth process. She watched on in a mix of both fascination and disgust as Dr. Porter, a woman in her sixties who served as Jackson’s sole physician, lifted the infant and immediately placed her onto your bare chest to clean her off. “This has gotta be the grossest, most amazing fucking thing I have ever fucking seen in my life.” Gently, she set your leg down onto the bed before walking around it to stand beside Joel. His hand was stroking your hair, his dark eyes trained on his crying newborn daughter. It was the perfect moment for Ellie to run her mouth and tease, “You’re not gonna cry, are you, Joel? I’d think you’re a lot fucking tougher than that, old man.”

“Shut up,” he’d muttered under his breath, putting an arm around her and pulling her against his side. He almost couldn’t believe this was now his life—a life he would have never even known if he hadn’t flinched twenty years ago when he had pulled the trigger.

Though she’d been born a few weeks prematurely, Rosemary Miller was deemed to be healthy—a tad underweight, but nothing to be worried about just yet, according to Jackie, the commune’s nurse. At about four pounds, eleven ounces, Rosemary was the tiniest thing you’d ever seen and somehow even tinier when Joel would cradle her in the palms of his large hands. Despite the fact that you’d been reassured that the baby’s low birth weight was nothing to be alarmed about, you and Joel had been advised it was best if you didn’t take her home until she gained a few more ounces and tipped the a scale at what the books state is a normal birth weight of five pounds, eight ounces.

“We just would feel better if she were here at the clinic where we can closely monitor her weight,” Jackie had said upon seeing the crestfallen look on your face. “Besides, you tore a little and you need time to heal as well, you know.”

Left with very little choice, you’d agreed to it.

“I’m losing it,” you say with an exasperated sigh as you stare up at the drab, gray ceiling. It’s been three days since you had given birth and all you want to do is take your daughter home. In an effort to lift your spirits, Maria had tried to warm the place up and make it feel more comfortable for you. She had swapped out the rough, scratchy bedsheet the clinic provided for you with a soft, knitted blanket she had made herself. She also took it upon herself to pack you a bag with your own clothes, a couple of books to read, and your favorite polaroids of Joel and Ellie. While it had been incredibly sweet of her to do for you, you still wanted out of that clinic sooner rather than later. “I miss our house. I miss our bed. I miss our kid.”

Joel, who’s sitting in an old, worn leather armchair tucked over in a corner of your room next to the frosted window, raises an eyebrow at you and then juts his chin towards Rosemary, who is swaddled up and sleeping soundly in the plastic bassinet beside your bed.

“Our kid’s right there, darlin’.”

You lift your head off your pillow and glare at him.

“I’m talking about Ellie, Joel.”

He chuckles and leans forward in his chair. Next to him sits a brown stuffed bunny rabbit—Ellie had traded a precious comic book for it and gifted it to the baby the same afternoon she was born. 

“She’s been comin’ to visit every day after school.”

“It’s not the same,” you pout, shaking your head.

Joel sighs and glances at the cot that he had been sleeping on for the last few days—truth be told, he misses the house too. His back certainly misses the bed. “It ain’t the same,” he agrees, tiredly. His face is worn with exhaustion. Despite you insisting that he go home and get some proper rest, he’s too stubborn to listen and only leaves the clinic to take a shower and change his clothes—and to check on Ellie, who’s got a bad habit of not doing her homework unless you or Joel nag her to get it done. “M’real sorry, darlin’. But you heard what they said. Baby’s gotta gain a little more weight before we can take her home.”

Even from where he’s sitting, he can see your eyes glaze over with tears of frustration. Since the baby was born, you’ve been very sensitive, more so than when you’d been pregnant—something he didn’t think was even possible.

“If she keeps on eatin’ the way she’s eatin’ we’ll be home by the end of the week,” Joel adds in an effort to cheer you up. “Besides, you need to heal before we make that long walk across town and back to the house, sweetheart. S’not like I can just pull up the fuckin’ minivan and drive you girls home like back in the day, y’know?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Ew, Joel. We would not have a fucking minivan.” Dabbing at your eyes with the back of your hand, you can’t help but laugh at the thought of Joel Miller behind the wheel of one of those things. Then, you realize how endearing it would be to watch as he’s loading up Rosemary’s car seat into the van, the muscles of his broad back flexing underneath his shirt as he pulled on the straps to make sure it was safe and secure. You’d climb into the backseat with her and on the way home, you would ask Joel to swing through the nearest burger joint drive through because you’re fucking starving and in need of a proper meal after being subjected to boring, bland hospital food. You shoot him a small smile. “On second thought, that doesn’t sound all that bad. Maybe we would.”

Suddenly, there’s a light knock at the door.

“Come in,” you call, careful not to be too loud.

Dr. Porter walks into the room.

She had been a primary care physician prior to the world ending, according to Maria, who a couple of months ago had given birth to her son while under Dr. Porter’s care. Maria had assured you that, even though the woman never trained in obstetrics, she always went above and beyond for all the mothers to be in the commune. She dedicated her spare time to studying, lost herself in medical books she found on the shelves of the town’s library—kind of like the one that’s currently tucked underneath her arm.

“Hi there mama,” she greets, her eyes shining brightly behind her coke-bottle glasses. Wearing jeans and a sweater, she doesn’t quite look the part—maybe she’d worn a white coat once in her life, but now it was only the old, silver metal stethoscope she had draped around her neck that gave her profession away. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“I’m okay,” you say with a shrug. “Can’t complain.”

Over in his corner, Joel can’t help but snort.

Ignoring him, you add, “Bleeding’s slowing down.”

“Good, that’s good,” Dr. Porter tells you. “And how about this sweet little girl?” She smiles and makes her way over to the bassinet, keeping her voice low. “She eating well?”

“She is. Her last feed was about two hours ago.”

“How’s she sleeping?”

“Like a rock.”

“And you’ve been doing skin to skin as well?”

You nod. “Yes, before and after her feedings.”

“That’s perfect.” Dr. Porter beams at you with pride. “Keep it up and do it as often as possible. There are a ton of benefits of doing skin to skin with her. It’s one of the most incredible things that a mother can do for her baby. Actually—” She pauses for a moment and pulls the book out from under her arm. “I have been doing a bit of research and as it turns out, there are also benefits if dad does skin to skin with baby as well.”

Joel stiffens slightly in his chair. “S’cuse me?”

“I found this book in the library. It talks about all of the benefits of fathers doing skin to skin with their newborn. It was written some time in the nineties and studies were still being conducted, but I really believe they were onto something.” She hands you the book. “For being preterm, Rosemary’s healthy, but it doesn’t do any harm to try whatever you can to make sure that she builds up that immune system and stays healthy, especially now that winter’s here.” Flashing you a smile, she informs you, “I went ahead and folded the pages for you and made some notes. There’s a few benefits in it for Joel as well. Could be worth a try.”

After telling you she’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you and to weigh the baby, Dr. Porter excuses herself from your room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Curiously, you open the book to the first page that she’d folded for you and start reading the first passage out loud.

“Ongoing studies have found skin to skin between father and child have similar benefits to those that come from skin to skin between mother and child. It regulates the baby's body temperature, blood sugar, and stress levels.” You pause and look over at Joel, who appears thoroughly unimpressed. “It also helps to regulate the baby’s heart rate and breathing rate. Joel, this is incredible! I think you should—”

“No.”

Joel winces. He doesn’t mean to sound so curt.

Your face falls. “Why not?”

“That’s for mothers,” he grumbles. “Y’know, for feedin’ the baby.”

“It’s for much more than just that.” You shake your head and flip over to the next page, scanning both the text as well as Dr. Porter’s notes. “It says here that it also helps the baby pick up their father’s natural scent and promotes bonding.”

“Sweetheart, I can bond with her just fine with my fuckin’ shirt on, there ain’t no need for me to—what in the world are you doin’?” Perturbed, Joel watches you as you take a handful of your blanket, throwing it off yourself. He jumps up to his feet the second he realizes that you’re about to get out of bed. “Don’t—”

“Oh relax, Joel. I should be moving more anyway,” you say, wincing as you sit up and swing both legs over the side of the bed. It isn’t so much pain as it is discomfort—everything had been shoved up and out of place for months, after all. As soon as you stand, Joel’s there at your side, one hand on your arm and the other on your back, trying to guide you back onto the bed. You lightly swat him away with your hand. “Joel, stop fussing over me! I’m fine!”

“Baby, y’need to lie down right now—”

“Take off your shirt.”

His hands fall away from you and his eyes widen.

“What?”

“Take off your shirt and go sit down in the chair.”

The blood drains from his face and he pales. 

It’s not that Joel doesn’t want to do it. He does.

He’ll do anything if it’s for his daughter’s benefit.

Still.

The idea of laying his innocent little baby girl on him without his shirt on—it’s uncomfortable. His chest and stomach are littered with several scars. Rough, raised patches of skin that serve as reminders of a brutal past he doesn’t want her finding out about, not for as long as he can fucking help it.

Rosemary deserves to be wrapped up in softness.

The softness of your smooth, blemish free skin.

The softness of the blankets you’d knitted for her.

The softness of the stuffed bunny Ellie had given her.

Joel?

He isn’t soft.

Nothing about him is soft.

Even holding her in his hands for the first time had been something of a battle. Hands that once snapped necks and slit throats didn’t deserve to hold something so pure and innocent.

“This sounds really promising, Joel.” Slowly, you make your way over to the plastic bassinet, ignoring the dull ache between your thighs. With your back to him, you carefully begin to unswaddle the baby. You try not to wake her as you peel off her warm, knitted onesie and matching socks, leaving her in nothing but her teeny, tiny cloth diaper. Gingerly, you pick her up and turn around to face him. “If Dr. Porter thinks we should try it, then it’s for a good reason, don’t you think so?”

Joel swallows harshly.

“What is it?”

“S’just that I—I’ve got scars everywhere, y’know?”

Your expression instantly softens for him. “Joel, you’re her daddy,” you remind him, gently. “She’s not going to care about things like that.” Pausing, it suddenly occurs to you that it’s not just about his scars. It’s about something else, something that runs so much deeper for Joel. He’d done what he had done in order to survive, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t live with the shame—the guilt and the regret. Rosemary begins to fuss awake and you lightly bounce her in your arms as you assure him, “She isn’t going to care about your past or what you’ve done. Her love for you is going to be as unconditional as yours is for her. She’s going to love you no matter what, Joel. I can promise you that.”

His jaw clenches and his lips press into a tight line.

Rosemary starts to cry—she’s cold, no doubt.

The old heater in the clinic hardly runs.

And when it does, it breaks down.

“Joel, please,” you beg over her wails. “Just try it? For me? For her?”

Sighing in defeat, Joel shrugs out of his jacket and he tosses it aside. With trembling fingers, he begins to unbutton his green flannel shirt—his long sleeved thermal henley comes off next and then he takes off the cotton t-shirt he wears underneath for an added layer of warmth during the winter season. As he stands there shirtless, he shivers and his flesh erupts with goosebumps. “Wait,” he mutters as he watches you take a step forward. He drags the armchair away from the window. He then sits down, his heart racing and the anxiety flaring as he gives you a subtle nod of his head. “Okay.”

You walk over to him and place her on his bare chest.

The second he feels Rosie’s soft skin on his, there’s a shift.

It’s similar to the one he felt when he first felt her move in your belly.

He calms and his heart slows—his nerves dissipate. 

And Rosemary stops crying.

She scrunches, curls up on his chest, and yawns.

Grimacing, you lean over and pick up his flannel shirt. “Here,” you say, draping it over them as a makeshift blanket. “How’s that feel?”

“Think she likes it, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, his fingers delicately brushing over her soft tufts of dark brown hair. His touch causes the newborn’s lip to curl and he catches a glimpse of the prominent dimple in her left cheek—the same dimple Sarah had inherited from him, Rosemary had inherited too. There’s a dull ache in his chest, but somehow, he still smiles as she peers up at him with sleepy eyes. “Hi, Rosie Posie. S’me, babygirl. Your daddy.”

Rolling your lip between your teeth, you stifle a giggle.

“What?” he asks, arching an eyebrow at you.

“She’s not the only one who seems to like it.”

Joel chuckles, admitting, “S’pretty relaxin’.” He presses his nose into his daughter’s curls and inhales deeply, relishing in the warm, sweet milky scent of her. After a minute, his smile falters slightly. “Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really believe it?”

Your brow furrows. “Believe what?”

“That she’s gonna love me no matter what.”

“Of course I do.”

“How can you be so sure ‘bout it?”

Carefully, you perch yourself on the arm of the chair and press a gentle kiss against his right temple, your lips brushing over his scar. “Because I just am, Joel.”

Somehow, he believes it—he believes you.

Joel tilts his head back, puckering his lips.

Grinning, you give him a chaste kiss before standing. “I’m going to see if I can get a nap in before her next feed,” you tell him, padding back over to the bed. “Do you think you’ll be okay with her for a while, just the two of you?”

“I think we’ll be just fine,” he murmurs, gingerly stroking Rosemary’s silky cheek with his finger. “Yeah. We’ll be just fine, won’t we, babygirl?”

divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller x pregnant reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller drabble #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #tw pregnancy #tw childbirth #tw premature birth

[bensonmichaels]

Who: Benson, Victoria, Baby Theo and Bailey @bailcyrhodes Where: Napa Valley Hospital - Maternity Ward When: October 31st, 2023 - Just after 7PM Notes: Trigger Warnings for - car accident, parental death, gang violence, premature birth, nicu stay

Clouds filled the night sky as thunder bellowed in the distance. It was storming, but that was nothing abnormal for Napa Valley, nor was it abnormal for this time of year. Fall in California was a lot less dry than a lot of the other places in America, but something about Halloween and the rain seemed to go hand in hand. This was the time of year that raincoats sales were the highest, water bills were dropping in price, and everything just seemed so much colder. Kids could be seen walking up and down sidewalks, scoping out the neighborhoods for the most decorated houses to visit on Halloween because those were the ones with the best candy. But for Benson, unlike most people that adored Halloween, it had never been a day he enjoyed. The day had always brought a bunch of harsh memories to him, and it was a day he tried to graze by without making a big deal out of it. Because something about remembering the day your life changed forever wasn’t something you wanted to remember. It wasn’t that he was a superstitious person, in fact, it was nearly the opposite. He knew that things happened by pure coincidence, and for him and those around him Halloween had always been one where more unfortunate things happened. From the death of his mom in the car crash when he was thirteen that had rocked his family to their core, to the gang-associated death of his best friend at the age of 22, it was never full of great memories. So when his fiancé Victoria Hastings went into early labor nearly a week prior, only to give birth to their beautiful baby boy - Theo - on Halloween, Benson was less than ecstatic; he was filled with nerves, because nothing good happened on Halloween. 

“You’re baby seems to be having some problems with his heart.” Were the words that echoed into his ears as his fiance’s tears fell. Thirty two hours of gruesome labor after a week of stopping the contractions had ended in a c-section, and to make matters worse, the couple hadn’t even gotten to hold their baby yet as he was immediately rushed to the NICU moments after delivery. They’d been sent to Victoria’s room after surgery, and were told to wait, despite the fact that Benson had so many questions. Was Theo alive? Was he going to make it? And How would they emotionally navigate taking care of a sick child? He didn’t want to sound ungrateful; they’d just welcomed a new life into this world. But their baby boy was sick, and Benson didn't know the first thing about taking care of a healthy newborn, much less a sick one. Though, they waited, and man, did the waiting feel like forever. Nearly thirty hours of recovery and some tests later and they were able to go see him - Benson had refused to go without Victoria, and they needed to make sure she was healthy so she didn’t risk giving her baby an infection - and hand in hand the two made their way towards the NICU floor, where they began navigating this life with a baby who had already brought them so much pain and happiness in his short little life. Theodore Alexander Michaels was the name that read on his little incubator bassinet that the nurses so carefully placed him in, keeping his body temperature regulated as he fought to stay with them. He was tiny. Benson’s finger was nearly the size of his whole hand, but he already adored that baby more than anything else in this world. His attention was fully on their son, sharing stories, laughs and tears about how much they already adored him that neither of them had even noticed the brunette that came over to check his vitals. That was until Benson’s eyes met hers and he felt the color in his face drain just slightly. Swallowing the knot that formed in his throat, he whispered a faint “Bailey..”

#benson x bailey #car accident tw #parental death tw #gang violence tw #premature birth tw #NICU stay tw #bailey thread; 001

[honeystwiggypeach]

If you don't mind can i request an angst to fluff scenario with shirabu where his newborn baby is very sick and still hasn't able to leave the nicu as a doctor shirabu feels utterly useless and couldn't even bear to look at his baby but seeing his wife visiting their baby everyday and hearing her assurance that it's not his fault and that their baby will be ok he finally decide to visit with his wife as much as possible and apologize to his baby for not being there then gradually their baby show enough signs of improvements to go home and the parents just cry tears of joy 😭

I know this isn't what i usually request and it's a pretty heavy scenario but i just couldn't get it out of my head and shirabu is like perfect for it 😔 you don't have to write it if you don't want to or if it makes you uncomfortable of course!

Bestie I’ll be honest I wasn’t sure if I wanted to write this because I don’t have much experience with the nicu and premie babies and I don’t want to be insensitive because that’s a very touchy subject for lots of people, but I’m hoping this doesn’t come out insensitive (if anyone finds this insensitive pls let me know so I can fix it!!)

Part two here!

Tw: premature birth, nicu stays, premature baby, angst to fluff, guilt, crying, possibly a breach in hippa guide lines(the doctors talk about declining healths of patients), baby comes home for the first time, cursing

He could feel the guilt eating at him everyday. Everyday he’d come home from the hospital to you crying because your precious little girl had been born premature, this meant she would have to stay in the nicu for a while before she could come home to ensure she’d be healthy.

He couldn’t help his own daughter because he’d be a conflict of interest and it only made him feel worse, how was he supposed to trust his colleges with her? He’s heard how they gather around the coffee machine whispering under their breaths about how certain patients were declining in health. Could he ever recover if the subject of their gossip were to become his daughter?

Seeing you come from the nicu everyday a sad smile on your face knowing you’d have to wait until tomorrow to see her again. He couldn’t even bring himself to see her after she was born and he felt like shit because of it, he’d seen her from across the room after you went into labor but that was really it.

Slowly say by day, your crying died down which Shirabu was thankful for, assuming it meant she was doing better. Any free time you’d had was spent telling him about all the little things she’d done during your visit and how they were preparing for her to go home soon!

“Shirabu?” He hears you call tiredly as he sits in the living room quickly wiping at his face, “what’s wrong?” You ask seeing him wipe at his face.

“I just feel like it’s my fault” he breaks down at the question, you quickly move over wrapping your arms around him as he cries into your shoulder.

“Listen, Kenjiro I felt like that at first too, but I talked with the nurse and she said it’s normal to feel that way when this happens but it’s important to know that there wasn’t a thing either of us could have done to prevent it.” He looks up at you with watery eyes as he nods.

“Besides, she’s ok now, they told me she’s going to come home soon as well.”

And you were right, after a few more days, the two of you were leaving the hospital with your little girl, Shirabu didn’t really know how to react, when he’d seen the nurse holding her he wanted to sob, she looked so much different from when he’d seen her in the delivery room, she looked healthier. Maybe that’s what he was scared of seeing her and she’d been worse than before.

After getting through all the paperwork and getting home he was hurrying to set her car seat down asking you if he could hold her.

“She’s your baby to you know” you tell him looking up as you unbuckle her lifting her gently before handing her over.

“Yea…of course I knew that” he replies but it doesn’t have his usual bitter bite to it, it’s softer almost a whisper full of emotions.

If anyone has more experience with the nicu and knows that something is particular wrong(I tried not to be too detailed to avoid this!) pls let me know so I can fix it!!

Anyways let me know if you guys want me to write anything else because I love writing requests!

#anons #tw: nicu #tw premature birth #tw: premature baby #reader insert #x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader #haikyuu parents #haikyuu dads #mom!reader #dad!shirabu #shirabu x reader #shirabu fluff

[charliesimss]

Grace delivered baby B, a baby girl on new years day eve! The twinnies were born at 34 weeks, so a little bit early, but they are doing okay and being monitored in the NICU. 👶🏻👶🏻💙💗

#tw medical #tw premature birth #sims 3 #sims 3 legacy #ts3 #ts3 legacy #baby twinnies #dime legacy #simblr #charlie queues

[tidemoonchild]

Headcanons & Musing

>>Trigger Warnings: premature birth<<

When Maggie's mother was pregnant with her daughter everything seemed to go perfectly fine, most of all because Hank was making sure that no risk was taken during the pregnancy. He was very much protective over her and their unborn child. But even he couldn't prevent everything that fate threw at their feet.

So it happened that Maggie came to the world earlier than they had excepted. It was so unexpected and suddenly that they had no time to go to the hospital. Luckily Hank knew what to do and was able to bring his daughter to the world himself.

When Maggie was finally born she was so tiny, Hank could hold her on just one hand.

#ooc :: mun #headcanons & musing #tw premature birth

[albentelisa]

Ok, so I was looking through my old docs and found a really old AU I wrote at some point (probably will put it into some coherent form at some point). Meanwhile, wrote a oneshot that can work as a prequel to that one.

It's mature and has some trigger warnings (premature birth, child loss, and suicidal thoughts), so proceed carefully.

As for my progress update, there will be Chapter 64 of Mirrored convictions this Friday.

#tales of arcadia #toa fanfic #oneshot #au #barbara lake #tw child death #tw premature birth #tw suicidal thoughts #also some status update

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Somewhat based on this post

Summer of Angst Masterlist

Title from It’s Quiet Uptown from Hamilton

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If I Could Trade His Life For Mine

Three days ago, things were different.

Three days ago, Sophie was a mother to three children. Two beautiful little girls and the baby in her belly.

Three days ago, Gideon was telling everyone how excited he was to become a father for the third time.

Three days ago, they were happy. Everyone in the Lightwood home was happy.

But three days ago, something changed.

Sophie went into labor in the middle of afternoon, while simply drinking her tea. Something had been wrong, she’d known it right away.

It was too early, she wasn’t due for almost two more months.

And when her water had broken, it wasn’t water, it was blood. Strikingly bright against the lightly patterned carpet.

Something was wrong.

She labored for nearly two days, forty hours in total. The whole experience longer and more painful than she had felt before with Barbara and Eugenia.

The girls had been sent to stay with Henry and Charlotte, as Gabriel and Cecily had been busy enough to little Anna, who’d recently begun teething. And Charles was closer in age to the girls anyway.

It was by the twelfth hour that Gideon demanded she be transferred to the Silent City, fearful for her life and that of the babe in her belly. But the Silent Brothers refused, citing the reason to be it was too dangerous to move her now.

So Sophie had watched as Gideon stewed in his own worry from his place beside her. He had desperately tried to hide it from her, but she knew it was there.

But as she said, that was three days ago.

And after those forty long hours, a baby was finally born. A baby boy, small and blue.

He didn’t cry or scream as he came into the world, having already been dead long before he was born.

The heartbreak of that was hard to voice, to give birth to a dead baby.

Especially since she wasn’t even close to being finished.

It was barely ten minutes after the first baby that the midwife told her there was another one coming. Another baby boy.

He was small too, but not blue like his brother was. He too, didn’t cry, at least, not at first. It took him a minute but he cried and cried, proudly showcasing his small lung capacity with small squeaky cries.

Sophie and Gideon cried when their son was placed on her chest, whether it was from the relief of him breathing or from the grief of their lost boy, she didn’t know.

They named him Thomas, after her dear friend Thomas Tanner, who had died protecting the London Institute. It felt fitting to name their son after a fighter, since he would have a long fight ahead of him.

Which brings us to now, three days later. They had been brought to the Silent City shortly after Thomas’s birth, the three of them-Sophie, Gideon, and Thomas of course.

She didn’t know what had become of her other son, the one she called Philip in her head. She his body would be held in the Silent City, for a proper funeral later on. She hoped it wouldn’t become a double, but with how Thomas looked, she couldn’t be very hopeful.

He was a tiny little thing, with a head full of sandy colored hair-just like Gideon’s-and skin that was all but translucent. The short, shaky breaths her son emitted made Sophie want to break down into tears.

The Silent Brothers were doing everything they could to help him survive, but they didn’t give much hope to the parents, telling them to prepare for the worst.

Didn’t they know that the worst had already happened?

She was now content to sit here and watch every breath her son took, desperately praying that each one wouldn’t be his last.

Sophie jumped and tensed when a hand came to rest on her shoulder, only relaxing when she saw it was only her husband. Gideon was looking worse for wear, the bags under his eyes making the green in them pop brightly and contrast against his nearly-white pallor. He hadn’t slept since she’d gone into labor, maybe even before that. He’d been so stressed out lately, she had noticed; but had chalked it up to late night patrols or the fact that they had two children under the age of five.

But now she could see that the stress had been a combination of the two, coupled with the difficult pregnancy.

The stress now made worse by the loss of the Philip and the possibility of losing Thomas as well.

“Do you think he’ll make it?” she whispered to her husband, eyes still focused on their tiny son.

Sophie could hear Gideon swallow audibly from behind her, a nervous tick of his. “I think we should have faith in the Angel and in the Silent Brothers.”

“What if faith is not enough?”

“Then I don’t know, sweetheart. I really don’t know.”

They wasn’t meant to be cynical, Gideon’s words. He was merely speaking the truth, there wasn’t much they could do for Thomas besides sit and wait.

All Sophie knew is that she couldn’t lose another baby. It would break her.

“I can’t lose another, Gideon. I can’t.”

“I know.”

She couldn’t lose another Thomas.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before I go, I shall leave you all with another Boo meme:

#the infernal devices #the last hours #sophie lightwood #gideon lightwood #thomas lightwood #mentioned barbara and eugenia lightwood #tw premature baby #tw premature birth #tw infant death #tw stillbirth

[stigmvtas]

MYRIA SAENGKAEW — ABRIDGED.

welcome to marina, MYRIA SAENGKAEW ( nonbinary, she/they ) ! they are a THIRTY year old who has lived over on MARINA HEIGHTS for MOST OF HER LIFE and works as a MORTICIAN/TAXIDERMIST. everyone says they look a lot like KITTY CHICHA. what do you think? — JAMES, 24, THEY/THEM, EST.

MENTIONS OF PREMATURE BIRTH, CHILD NEGLECT, CAR ACCIDENT, DEATH, ALCOHOLISM, TAXIDERMY, AND DEAD ANIMALS.

profile.

full name: myria 'noi' saengkaew.

birthday: july 13th, 1993.

astrology: cancer sun, taurus moon, leo ascending.

sexuality: bisexual.

currently listening to: timefighter by lucy dacus.

last known location: [[[cannot be found]]]

PINTEREST.

brief history.

premature birth; born prematurely on a day considered extremely unlucky, to a pair of parents who were not only household celebrity names in thailand, but deeply superstitious and spiritual people at that.

child neglect; from there on, myria was considered the unlucky one. the one whose bad luck follows. she's so sure that her parents didn't mean to ignore her in favor for her siblings, but they did, regardless. myria's other two siblings became classic nepo babies, riding off of the success of their parents and finding their own fame - and myria stayed in the background.

every time she tried to branch out like them, it only wound up in mysterious accidents on set. as a child, she overcompensated by picking up hobbies left and right, trying to master them all but always falling short.

eventually myria came to marina one summer, thinking it's a regular vacation at her family's home they've had on the island for generations - but she didn't leave with her family when they did. instead, she was left with a nanny and a bodyguard and an enrollment in the local school.

her family rarely visited, and rarely paid her any mind when she came to them, so eventually myria stopped altogether. when she was 18, she decided to travel the states.

car accident / death; stopped in LA and falls in love with a up-and-coming film director there. they make it to a year before a car accident takes their life and leaves myria all alone again.

came back to marina after that, feeling defeated. took a few years to herself before eventually going to mortuary school & becoming the local mortician. took up a few taxidermy classes as well, but she's still a bit amateur at it.

facts & temperaments.

her family calls her noi, because she was born so tiny, and was considerably frail for the majority of her childhood. the nickname stuck afterwards, but it's more of a demeaning mark than anything.

the most cheerful person you've ever seen. is usually smiling, and talking a mile a minute - laughs everything off, and tries her hardest not to take anything to heart. gives pieces of herself away at a whim if it's going to help someone else.

refuses to badmouth her family, even though they've only hurt her. has a Complex about it.

is usually in a short term relationship, or a situationship, or some kind of fling that doesn't last longer than a few weeks to a few months. is bad with longterm commitment, because it scares her. but she loves love and loves to give it.

attachment issues central! very clingy. and loyal to a fault. only sees the good in people, and leads life through rose-tinted lens.

chronic oversharer. is an open book unless it comes to her deep emotions, which she keeps bottled up on the inside so tightly.

is probably only a few dents away from having a complete meltdown but its okay. has a lot of inner insecurities and doesn't really think positive about herself. thinks she really is just a beacon of bad luck, which is why she's okay to let people go when they pull away. is just. sad on the inside.

alcoholism; partier and is usually always seen out and about. a high functioning alcoholic who hides it very well.

hates being alone and will often wake up in other's beds, or vice versa. has decorated her room at the mansion entirely in glow in the dark stars and glass light-catchers.

lives life in an array of colors. is never wearing black, only clashing patterns and colors. is a maximalist to an extreme.

taxidermy / dead animals; has an etsy shop where she sells taxidermy animals, mostly rodents like rats, and has them dressed up and posed in different 'series'. they're called furever pals / furever friends.

#marina:intro #premature birth tw #child neglect tw #car accident tw #death tw #alcoholism tw #taxidermy tw #dead animal tw #––– ❛ myria saengkaew 【 little blurry stars scattered all across / about. 】

[merrock]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: Idris Elba

full name: Marquis Owusu

nickname(s) / goes by: Marcus 

pronouns & gender: he/him/his and cis man 

sexuality: heterosexual 

birth date: November 24, 1973 ( 50 years old )

birth place: Saint-Germain-en-Laye, France

arrival to merrock: 2011, twelve years ago. 

housing: the coast and pier

occupation: Owner and CEO of Le Marquis Business Consultancy and Investments Inc  

work place: 

family: deceased mother and father, deceased wife of eight years, one older siblings and two younger siblings, three children: Charlotte “Lottie” Rose, daughter born October 2017 and twins Finn Dion and Sienna Alexandra born August 2018

relationship status: Widower / Single

PERSONALITY

He’s got a face that people often takes him to be incredibly serious, and when it comes to work, he plays no games. Marquis can often seem cold and aloof, aside from when he is with close friends and family. There, another side of him comes out, a more charming and caring side of him comes out. He knows his fault is shutting people out after so much loss in his life but he tries his best to not come across as harsh or standoffish but it’s something he knows that his personality comes with a fault and is something he continually is working on to just not be the ‘business man’ that he often exudes when in public. 

WRITTEN BY: Bri (she/her), est.

BACKGROUND / BIO

triggering / sensitive content: tw parental death, tw parental loss, tw death mention, tw spousal death, tw childbirth, tw death, tw infertility, tw early term pregnancy

Born to Omari Osuwu and Penelope Osuwu in Saint-Germain-en-Laye, France life with the Osuwu’s was relatively normal. Well, as normal of a life could be for a household of six. Being the second born child came with less challenges, at least that was his mother always alleged. When she welcomed Marquis into the family she was expecting him to be the rebel son, the hot-headed tempered child, much like her pregnancy had been. Hot and cold the entire time, but from the moment he popped into the world he was the levelheaded peaceful child of the bustling bunch. 

Despite the challenges that came with his father always working, his mother made the best home for them. They didn’t go without, his father providing for the family financially while being the disciplinary in the household. For the most part he ruled with an iron fist, but that was just due to the fact he liked order. It was never too much of a power trip, or nothing his mother couldn’t manage to smooth over if she felt he was being too particularly difficult with any of the children. Still, as most people saw it, he was a man attempting to raise a family of four children and keep a happy wife. Sometimes that meant having things more strict and set at times than others. Still, if you asked him, there was no doubt that his mother was the shining star of their Owusu family. She made sure they got to live their best childhoods possible. There were trips to Paris, day or weekend long excursions to neighboring countries, and endless activities that pepper his memory. One thing his mother was determined o do was raise well-rounded, worldly children. For this, from the moment they were just starting school, each child was enrolled by their mother into multiple language lessons. 

By the time Marquis was thirteen he was fluent in French, English, Spanish, and German. Given both his parents were well-versed in multiple languages themselves, his father always appreciated the love and care that his wife put in to making sure the kids would have the best opportunities for their future, starting with being fluent in other languages and enrolling them in a top accredited school for their primary and secondary education. In his father’s eyes this would give them the best advantage when going out into the world when they became adults.

To Marquis, by any other standard, the Owusu’s lived a normal life with his family. When he turned seventeen he started interning with his father at the bank he worked at, and it was the first lightbulb that went off in his head that things made sense. He caught onto patterns faster than his father, started to build client relationships, and before he knew it he had caught the eye of the local bank president who decided to make him a personal project and take him under his wing as a mentee. With a new mentor leading him distance grew between his father and him. After finishing secondary school, and with glowing recommendations from his mentor he entered a business school in Paris. Part of him wasn’t expecting to excel as well as he did but each time he turned around he was catching the eyes of several professors — and the women on the campus. 

During his university years he was know as a bit of a lady’s man, wining and dining them, but never was in the mindset to settle down. If anything it was just the little bit of fun he needed while building towards whatever future career he was planning for himself. To him, a relationship wasn’t needed to him to be happy. To him his goals were always more career oriented, much like his father. Setting his eyes on someday being a president of a local bank in France, living a comfortable life, once all the things fell into place. It wasn’t until one of his professors approached him and told him he could do so much more with his skill set. That aiming for just working in a bank was well below what he could do. While back to interning with his father, he signed up for all different classes at his university that his new mentor suggested from accounting, investing, human resources, project management, and more. This was where he got the first taste of the world of investment. 

When he graduated university he accepted a position in an investment firm as an entry level advisor. At the beginning it was mostly just paperwork and mind-numbing dribble. There came a point he almost gave it up, starting to think this wasn’t the career path for him. But, stubborn like a bull, he stuck it through and started to gather his own clientele and a name for himself within the business. 

Over the next few years Marquis continually raised through the ranks learning every bit he could about proper investing in companies, start-up businesses, and people. In his mid twenties, his father suddenly passed due to cardiac arrest leaving his mother well off financially. Though no amount of money can prepare a person for losing the love of their life. While his father had never been overly affectionate, his mother always said he loved her beyond measure at all times of the day. Something Marquis didn’t fully understand since he had never felt a love that powerful. What could he comprehend? His mother passing away only six weeks later. Doctors said it was respiratory failure but Marquis knew his mother died of a broken heart and couldn’t continue to live without the love of her life. Once the estate was settled each sibling was left a considerable amount of financials from everything from trusts to properties, something Marquis hadn’t even been aware they had. 

For awhile he floated lost in the world, losing both parents so close together and both of them prior to him turning thirty years old. He attempted his hardest to be a sounding board for his younger siblings when needed while still attempting to try and figure out his own grief and life — mainly how to move forward after something that rocked his life upside down. Anger, sadness, and grief started to consume him little by little so he threw himself into his work, storing his portion of money he had inherited into investments while he continued to work. 

After being overlooked and several promotions came and went with someone with less experience were brought up over him, despite the massive clientele base he had brought into the business, he decided to reach out to the one person he felt like he still had for his own sounding board. His old mentor and father’s old boss, this is where the budding idea started of opening his own investment firm in France. He wanted a mix of business consultancy and investments. Little did he know how good he’d be at running his own business, investing others money into proper channels and consulting for others to build their own businesses taking a percentage of profit to help up and coming business. For the next decade Le Marquis Business Consultancy and Investments Inc opened two more brick and mortar businesses in France, one in London, one in New York City, one in Miami and one in Los Angeles. For Marquis this was all about building his empire, building his legacy, and taking a no holds barge approach. 

Some considered him ruthless with the way he came in and built a company of seven offices around the world, but he was building something for himself, and no one else. His siblings, however, bugged him about settling down but it truly never crossed his mind. With the amount of travel and meetings to keep the expanse of businesses he had running who had time to think about settling down. It wasn’t that he didn’t date, he just didn’t let it get any further than a few fun nights in bed before going their separate ways. It wasn’t until he was home one Christmas at thirty five years old did he meet the new next door neighbor to his eldest sibling. It was here he understood the meaning of what it was to meet your other half and feel like you were struck by lightening all at once. Eleanor was confident, had a tiny business making jewelry and his idea of sweet talking was offering to invest into her business. What truly shocked him was the blunt way she told him to kick rocks and move along. 

It was no immediate love story, though he was captured by her immediately, but mostly it started off as bickering but slowly developed into more. Marriage followed nearly two years later after dating and they started talking about him slowing down as Eleanor wanted children. With a promise of opening one last firm, what he would coin his ‘retirement’ firm where he’d work most exclusively out of, would be what lead him to Merrock where Eleanor’s parents were local from. After finding the perfect building for his business they spent the next several months settling into Merrock life. 

Going from massive cities, constant traveling, and endless business meetings to small town life wasn’t easy for Marquis at first. It left him restless but his wife was patient with him. It was at 38 years old did both Marquis and Eleanor start trying for a family of their own. With his wife at only 32 years old he didn’t think it would be as hard as it was, but one year turned into two and they were slapped with potential infertility issues. With the help of medication and lots of patience, at 44 years old Marquis and his wife welcomed their first born daughter into the world. 

They were supposed to be on cloud nine, and it wasn’t supposed to happen, but twelve weeks later they got the news that after one night of celebrating, Eleanor was 5 weeks pregnant, and to bigger surprise came then when they found out she was pregnant with twins. Being that his wife was nearly 39 years old now she was placed in high risk. Marquis took every precaution possible once he heard those words, money was no object and he sought out the best medical care to bring to Merrock. At only twenty eight weeks along Eleanor went into labor delivering two premature babies, a beautiful baby boy and baby girl. They were small and needed time to develop in the NICU but they were strong, however his wife wasn’t as lucky. Due to the high risk pregnancy she suffered two embolisms in her lungs and by the time they caught it, it was too late and she didn’t survive through the night. 

At nearly 45 years old Marquis was now not only a widow but caring for three babies, an almost one year old, and newborn infants. His siblings came to Merrock and with the help of Eleanor’s parents to help him settle in as best as he could. Five years later he still regrets waiting so long to start a family. Part of him blames himself that if he hadn’t been so stubborn and worried strictly about his business, if they had tried earlier, she wouldn’t be gone. Not to mention the regrets he has not being careful enough after she had given birth to their first daughter. It’s a blame he hasn’t let himself forgive himself for, and not sure he ever will. 

At the end of the day, business doesn’t stop for anyone when you are running a global company. To be close to his wife’s roots and her family he decided to stay in Merrock, though his family suggested him coming back to France. After hiring a nanny to hep with the kids in between, he has done everything he can to be as devoted of a father, attempting to give them anything and everything they could want. It means learning how to balance the business that he hopes to someday pass onto his children, and spending time with his little family. Though if you had told him in his twenties he’d never thought at fifty years old he’d be a widower raising his six year old daughter and five year old twins. But something he’s learned several times in life, life doesn’t always go as planned. 

#merrockbio #marquisowusu #death tw #parental death tw #spousal death tw #childbirth tw #premature birth tw #early term pregnancy tw #infertility tw

[spamtonrescuesociety]

What about flat faced spammys?

Flat-faced Spammys can be natural, but they only occur during premature births.

They cannot smell, which may not seem like a big deal, however, Spamton noses are a lot like cat whiskers. They help Spamtons navigate through everyday life and make sure they don't bump into things.

Unlike tea cup Spamlings, these guys are up for adoption, but you must go through an intense screening process and multiple checkups on your Spamton when you bring them home.

#spamton #deltarune #spamton husbandry #spamton rescue society #tw animal disability #tw premature birth

[vulnonapix1234]

TW: Death and premature birth

Ok, so I have this headcanon where Hau is Sabrina's cousin and had weak psychic powers.

Now you might ask yourself "how?".

Let me explain:

Haus Father was an adventurer.

He hated being stuck on alola and planned to leave it, as soon as he had enough money.

Hala wasn't a fan. He had already planned that his son would take his place as Island captain one day.

They fought constantly about it, to the point of Hala saying that he would disown him if he where to ever leave alola.

His son took him by word and left after an big fight.

He left alola and traveled around for a bit, till he came to Kanto.

Here it was where he met Haus Mother, who was a shrine maiden.

She had psychic abilities and was the aunt of an gym leader. They where really close in age and acted more like siblings.

He thought that she was the most beautiful woman in the world and tried to flirt with her.

The language barrier made it hard and he accidentally called her red eyed demon.

She still found it funny and their relationship evolved from there.

They married after an year dating and Haus Father wrote hala for the first time in half an decade.

Asking him for forgiveness and explaining that he married.

Hala was a different man back then. He threw the letter into fire without even reading it.

This is one of his biggest regrets.

Time passed and Haus mother became pregnant with him.

This was one of the happiest moments of their lives.

But things became worse real quick 

(Tw: death and premature birth)

|| Haus mother became really sick by the 3th trimester.

Due to her psychic abilities, her brain needs more nutrients, that it wasn't getting because of the pregnancy.

She became weaker and weaker and the doctors where unsure if she and the baby would survive.

Haus Father searched for a way to help them and found something with the help of Sabrina.

A flower that was used throughout many generations of psychic users, that gave them everything that they needed.

It grew on an near-by mountain.

He immediately went to find it.

He never returned, as he was surprised by bad weather and fell to his dead.

Learning about this led to him coming way to soon, because of the stress his mother felt.

She didn't survive the birth and hau was fighting ||

Sabrina really didn't do well after the loss of her aunt and uncle.

This didn't go well with her powers and it was clear that she couldn't keep hau with her.

So she had to arrange a call with hala, so he could Raise him .

Halas world was destroyed when he learned about his sons fate.

Despite his actions, he still loved him. To have his last words being so cruel was something he had to fight with the rest of his live

He immediately traveled to Kanto, where he met hau for the first time.

Hau was tiny.

Barley bigger than his two hands .

And yet, he kept on fighting with every breath he took.

Hala stayed in Kanto till hau was strong enough to travel.

He spent the time learning about his son and daughter in law and what kind of people they where.

When he left he promised to let  Sabrina know everything about hau.

(He would phone her daily and send pictures. His kantonese became really good)

Hau grew up really loved and with full knowledge of who his parents were and where he comes from.

He is also really good at speaking Kantonese, due to Sabrina's calla and many visits. This comes in handy with sun/moon.

His psychic ability is weak compared to Sabrina and he needs to eat a lot of sugar to power it up.

But he is still young and will grow stronger

#Hau #rival hau #Pokémon hau #trainer hau #hau pokemon #alola #Hala #Pokémon hala #Trainer hala #Sabrina #Pokémon Sabrina #gym leader sabrina #tw: death #tw: pregnancy #Tw: premature birth

[oftatteredwings]

⸻  FREEMA AGYEMAN. SHE + HER / have you ever     heard of  STRONGER (WHAT DOESN’T KILL YOU) by kelly clarkson, well,     it describes AMBER STEVENSON to a tee! the 42 year old, and MIDWIFE  was spotted browsing     through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know     them? would you say  SHE is  more guarded or more STRONG  instead?     anyway, they remind me of fresh flowers dotted on every surface, the glow of fairy lights, a few too many self-help books and early morning walks with a freshly squeezed orange juice, maybe you’ll bump into     them soon! 

time in notting hill ; 17 years.

tw: death, war mention, alcoholism, premature birth, death of an infant

ABOUT.

Name: Amber Stevenson Nicknames: None Age: Forty-two Date of birth: 22nd August 1981 Birth place: London, UK Occupation: Midwife Romantic/sexual orientation: Heteroromantic/bisexual

Amber was very much born to be a city girl. She decided early on that London was the place for her, she’d become a high-flying businesswoman and spend her weekends staying in the most expensive hotels sipping on Cristal champagne.

All of that came crashing down around her when she turned 15 and her father up and moved the whole family across the ocean to Atlanta.

She struggled to fit in, was always going to, she was the strange kid from England who clearly hated everything and everyone around her. That was up until Timothy stepped into her life anyway.

Amber never planned on falling in love, especially in high school, but that was exactly what happened. She ended up graduating on complete and utter nine, something that lasted up until the day he told her he was going into the army.

Things after that became a blur. An undeclared major at college, a dead end job, with sporadic visits from Tim. Back and forth, back and forth, it wasn’t really the life she’d asked for. 

Then one year, at the holidays, he came home and he proposed. It was an instant yes. Naturally. And then six weeks later, she made the discovery she was pregnant. She didn’t think that life could actually get any better.

She was right. Three months down the line she received the news that Tim had been killed while away serving. At first she didn’t believe it, wouldn’t believe it, but as the news sunk in her dependency on alcohol began. Drinking erased the memories, staved off the nightmares that threatened each night.

Two months later she went into premature labour. She knew it was too early, she panicked, she screamed and she cried. Jessica Ada was born 17th June 2006 and lived only a week.

Shortly afterwards, Amber made the decision to travel back to London to stay with her grandparents and that’s where she’s been ever since. She got herself sober and began to attend counselling, started a brand new life, even chose to go back to university to study medicine.

It took her a very long time to start dating again. She dipped her toe in and out of relationships, still undecided if the time would ever actually come that she found someone again. She told herself it didn’t matter though, even if sometimes she felt lonely.

Over the last couple of years she has finally developed something with someone she works with. It was very much a slow burn, from colleagues to friends, from friends to lovers, from lovers to... well they don’t know what yet. They’re still figuring that part out.

All she knows is that she’s happy, but she thinks of Tim every day.

HEADCANONS.

Amber is a bit of a fitness freak, she loves to swim and hits up the gym at 6am every day she’s not working.

She does her best to eat healthy, too, but she won’t lie she has a bit of a sweet tooth and eats way too much Turkish Delight. Her mother always orders her a hamper full from Fortnum and Mason around the holidays.

Flowers are one of her favourite things. She has dozens of indoor plants and a couple of window boxes, seeing as she lives in a flat.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

- cousins. - tim’s best friend from back home. - close friends. - colleagues. - past attempts at dating. - current love interest.

#✧ amber ( about ) #nottinghillintro #death tw #child death tw #alcoholism tw #premature birth tw #war tw

[charliesimss]

Gracie finally went into labor! At 34 weeks she delivered baby A, a baby boy, naturally, without any medications or interventions.... however baby B was being a little more difficult

#tw birth #tw premature birth #sims 3 #sims 3 legacy #ts3 #ts3 legacy #sims 3 couple #gradley #oc grace #oc bradley #simblr #charlie queues

[tidemoonchild]

Headcanons & Musing

>>Trigger Warnings: miscarriage, premature birth<<

Maggie's mother was pregnant before her but lost the child. After that she had trouble to get pregnant again. When she went to the doctor she was told that due to her time with her ex and the torture she had endured there, her fertility and chance of getting pregnant was virtually non-existent. She was also told that even if she would get pregnant it would be highly risky especially for the child.

After the devastating news Maggie's parents stopped trying for a child until many yeary later her mother did got pregnant again and decided to keep the baby despite the risks. In the end their baby girl was born premature but initially seemed healthy. But then the problems started shortly after the birth and Maggie's parents had to fight a lot for their daughter's survival.

Before Maggie turned one year old, she would often get very sick. Just before her first birthday, Maggie's health deteriorated to such an extent that it seemed like she might not make it this time. Her parents were already preparing for the worst when they learned that their daughter might not survive the night. However, the next morning brought a miraculous surprise, Maggie had defied the odds, her fever had gone down, and her condition had improved significantly.

#ooc :: mun #headcanons & musing #tw miscarriage #tw premature birth

[theobailey]

pov. motherland. μάνα

Theo doesn’t believe in God. And yet, here he is, waiting in church for an act of faith. This particular church isn’t grand or impressive like the ones he’s seen across the world before—churches carved in pure gold, churches tall enough to make your neck hurt, but the ceiling is painted in blue, constellations in bright gold, and he can’t stop looking up, nervously rubbing his fingers together. He often wonders if he would have been different had he grown up under normal circumstances—if the orphanage he’d grown up in didn’t believe so much in penitence, if the Baileys hadn’t been so syncretic and secular. 

He’d never looked for any sort of faith, even though the poetry of it never went unnoticed for him. In the devotion of the faithful, the prayer of those in pain. He was, after all, a man of words and those said with such honesty fascinated him.

Now, he’s in the third row, on the hard wooden bench, and waits. Waits, staring at the starry ceiling, until slow, deliberate steps echoes through the church and a veiled sister, a nun, sits next to him. Theo can’t find the words in him, “You called for me.” She says, in Greek, sounding heartbreakingly unimpressed. He’s dreamed of this moment many times in the past, a moment he thought had been stolen from him, and so he didn’t know how to proceed. He nodded, not able to look in her eyes—eyes he’s dreamed of his entire life. “Do you know who I am?” She makes a sound with the back of her throat. She knows. He hadn’t been looking for her, he had never looked for her.

He’d been arranging his documentation, his resident visa, when bureaucracy drove him back to his motherland, to the island he was born in, the pastoral community so ill equipped to deal with dangerously premature babies that he’d only spent a few hours of life there before being taken to Athens. He’d never actually returned to his birthplace, even if he visited Greece fairly often. Now, the ferry took him to the island through the clear blue water, to a stunning place secret to tourists, where fishermen yell around in angry, dialect-heavy Greek. It doesn’t feel like home, and the fact that it’s on top of a rocky mountain doesn’t make it very easy on him—another reason why he likes Athens better, because accessibility there is at least an afterthought whereas here it’s not a concept at all. The climb, the endless stairs, are hard on him, and he makes the decision to spend the night, just so he’ll manage to rest. Theo didn’t know then what he knows now.

Theo didn’t know a lot of things.

He didn’t know, for example, that he never knew his mother’s name not because no one knew it, because she’d died in childbirth, but because that’s what you do when you hand a child over for adoption.

hand him over for adoption.

he also didn’t know that as an adult, he could ask for the information to be disclosed. 

Theo wants to ask her why, but the words don’t come out. Why? He knew why. Because you could fit in the palm of my hand. Because I didn’t think you would make it --- they said that if you did... He wouldn’t talk or walk or think. He knew the drill. His knuckles were white. He wanted to tell her that none of it should have mattered, because it didn’t matter to his parents, his odd, loving true parents, Richard and Jasmine Bailey. He wanted to ask her if she regretted it now that he was six feet tall and not attached to any machines, now that he spoke twelve languages and had all academia glory one could dream of. Instead, without him even asking, “I was young and alone”, she says. 

“Me too.” Theo answers.

They don’t say anything else. He can’t say anything else. Theo wishes he could stand up fast and simply leave, show her how wrong she’d been, how he could have been worth it, but it doesn’t have quite the same impact when your limitations are as visible, when it takes so long for him to even manage past her in the asile and his graphite crutches resonates against the centuries-old stone floor as his tired, cramping legs carry him out of the church. He doesn’t make it very far. He sits on the stone bench under an old, twisted olive tree and buries his face in his hands as his chest clenches even tighter and his heart races and he finds it difficult to breathe, until he hears someone coaching him through it in his mother tongue, with a calm, steady voice.

She brushes his back. “You know where to find me, son.” It feels unclear whether she means son in the biblical or biological sense, and he supposes it doesn’t matter. Before she leaves, he looks at her. Theo has been right his entire life. They do have the same eyes.

#yes this is a daredevil arc i dont care #tw sad theo #tw orphan #tw anxiety attack #tw religion #tw nun #tw premature birth #ᴀɴᴅʀᴇᴀs ― ❝𝐏𝐎𝐕