Little Nicole
I was rushed inside, barely able to keep myself standing. The pain in my abdomen had intensified, waves of contractions hitting harder and faster. My vision blurred, my legs trembling as I leaned heavily against the nurse who had rushed to help me. I could hear them speaking softly, gently, as they guided me into the hospital, but the words came and went like echoes through the fog of pain.
"You'll be alright," one of them said as they laid me down on a bed. The cool sheets felt like a blessing against my fevered skin. "You'll have a healthy baby soon."
I squeezed my eyes shut, nodding weakly. I wasn't ready for this. Not mentally, not emotionally. But my body had already made the decision for me. There was no turning back now.
"Have you been to any antenatal appointments?" another nurse asked as they worked around me. There was kindness in her voice, but I felt the shame rise in my throat all the same. Of course, I hadn't been to any antenatal appointments. How could I? I had been hiding in a forest, barely scraping by, pretending this wasn't happening.
"No," I whispered, my voice hoarse. I kept my gaze down, embarrassed by how unprepared I was.
"That's alright," the nurse said quickly, not pressing. "The baby feels fine regardless. We'll take good care of both of you."
I nodded again, feeling a small weight lift off my chest. Maybe it was the pain, or maybe it was the relief of hearing someone say everything would be okay, but I felt my body relax just a little. The fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of my mind, but it wasn't as sharp anymore.
The nurses moved around me with practiced ease, setting up what they needed for the birth. I focused on my breathing, trying to stay calm, but every contraction pulled me back into the pain. I gritted my teeth, gripping the edge of the bed as I felt another wave hit.
"You can do this," I whispered to myself, a quiet pep talk. "You've survived worse. You can do this."
I kept repeating it like a mantra, over and over, as the hours passed in a haze of pain and exhaustion. I lost track of time, the nurses' voices blurring into the background as I struggled through each contraction. I couldn't think about anything else. It was just me, the pain, and the baby.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I heard one of the nurses tell me to push. I did as they said, forcing every ounce of strength I had left into it. The pain was unbearable, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. Not now.
"You're doing great," one of the nurses encouraged. "One more big push."
I bit down on my lip, my body shaking from the effort. I didn't know where I found the strength, but somehow, I pushed again. And then... relief. The pressure in my belly eased, and I heard it—the sound of a baby's cry.
My baby's cry.
Tears filled my eyes, mixing with the sweat on my face. It was over. I had done it.
They took the baby from me, cleaning her up before bringing her back, and I barely had the energy to keep my eyes open. Exhaustion weighed me down, dragging me into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was how clean and warm I felt. I blinked groggily, glancing around the room. It was quiet now, just the soft hum of the machines in the background. And then I saw her.
My baby.
She was lying next to me in a small bassinet, swaddled in a soft blanket, her tiny face peaceful. I felt my heart swell with a kind of joy I'd never known before, a warmth spreading through my chest.
I reached out, gently lifting her into my arms. She was so small, so fragile, but as I held her, I felt an overwhelming sense of love. Instant, unconditional love. I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, my tears falling freely now.
A girl. I had a daughter.
Before I could process it all, the door to the room creaked open, and a nurse walked in. The same one who had helped me through the birth, I realized.
"How are you feeling?" she asked with a kind smile.
"I'm... I'm okay," I said, my voice a little shaky but full of gratitude. "Thank you."
She nodded, her gaze softening as she looked at the baby in my arms. "Have you thought of a name for her yet?"
I looked down at my daughter, her tiny face so peaceful in sleep. I hadn't thought much about names before now, but in that moment, the name came to me easily.
"Nicole," I whispered, my voice filled with emotion. "Her name is Nicole."
The nurse smiled warmly. "That's a beautiful name."
"Thank you," I said again, the words heavy with emotion. "I... I don't have any money," I admitted, the shame creeping back into my voice. "I can't pay for any of this."
The nurse waved her hand dismissively. "Don't worry about that. This is a general hospital. We don't charge for care here. Everything is taken care of."
I stared at her, unable to believe what I was hearing. Relief flooded through me, and I felt a fresh wave of tears.
"Thank you," I said, my voice breaking a little. "I don't know how to thank you enough."
"You don't have to," she said kindly. "We're just glad you and Nicole are doing well. Speaking of which, we did find something during your examination." She hesitated for a moment, her expression turning more serious. "There was an infection in your blood, but it seems to have cleared up after the delivery. The baby... she saved you, in a way."
I looked down at Nicole, my heart swelling with even more love. She had saved me. She had given me a second chance at life.
The nurse smiled again. "You're new here, aren't you? Where did you come from?"
Panic flashed through me for a moment. I couldn't tell her the truth. I couldn't let anyone know I was a werewolf, not in a Lycan city.
"I... I traveled from another Lycan pack," I lied, hoping my voice sounded convincing. "I got stranded on the way and ended up here. I don't really have anywhere to go now."
The nurse nodded sympathetically. "That's tough. But since your daughter was born here, she's considered a citizen. That means she's eligible for certain privileges, like free housing in cases of homelessness, and a job for you so you can provide for her."
I stared at her, stunned. "Really?"
"Yes," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "I'll bring you some food to give you strength to feed little Nicole, and I'll also get the necessary documents from the law office. You'll be able to stay here and start fresh."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. After everything, there was a chance for a new beginning. A chance for me and Nicole to have a life, a real life.
"Thank you," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Thank you so much."
The nurse gave me one last smile before leaving the room, and as the door closed behind her, I looked down at Nicole again. I pressed another kiss to her soft cheek, tears of gratitude filling my eyes.
"Thank you, Moon Goddess," I whispered softly. "Thank you for my daughter."