(no subject)

[teatin]

It's a week before Levi is scheduled to leave for the expedition when Petra feels the first contraction. It's sudden, and it steals the breath from her, hand flying to her belly to feel for the baby. The pain fades away as she adjusts, and after she feels the baby moving, Petra feels relieved, at least for another hour until it hits her again. This time, she calls for Levi, who lays down the broom he was using and helps her to their bed, pressing a kiss to her forehead before hurrying to summon the midwife. Petra recognizes the look in his eyes as he turns away, the same expression she's seen countless time on expeditions when he's set to take care something or someone.

He returns with the midwife in tow not thirty minutes later. The pain has subsided, and the midwife, a heavy older woman who smelled of ginger and oranges, had a knowing look in her eyes as Petra described what had happened, excusing Levi from the room as she prepares examine Petra.
"He's not coming yet," the midwife says after a moment, pulling back from the bed and letting the blankets fall back to Petra's ankles. Petra sits up, looking perplexed and confused, because hadn't she just felt a contraction?

"Your body's getting ready, he'll come in the next few weeks. He's already dropped," the midwife replies, smiling kindly. Petra's mouth goes dry, and she wants to protest the matter. She had been told it'd be another month before she would deliver; another month and the Survey Corps would stop its expeditions for the oncoming winter, and Levi would be guaranteed to be home for the baby. She doesn't have the chance to protest, the midwife is already explaining that the baby will come whenever he's good and ready, describing the differences between false labor and the real thing.

The midwife leaves after a little more talk, examining Petra's belly and taking measurements, declaring the baby safe and healthy. Levi is waiting on the other side of the door, rather impatiently escorting the midwife out of the house before immediately returning to Petra, sitting on the bed and reaching to rub her back. It's something he does now without any kind of prompting, and Petra appreciates the gesture. "It was a false alarm," she explains, trying to hide the worry in her face. She knows Levi notices, but he doesn't question, and she tells him most of what the midwife told her, leaving out the part where she suspected the baby might be coming sooner than expected.

After a time, Levi presses another kiss to her forehead, then to her mouth, then gets up to prepare dinner and finish cleaning. Most nights, Petra does feel bothered at how useless she's become; the stress on her already damaged back is too much for her to stay on her feet too long, and so Levi was forced to take up the household chores along with his regular duties in the Corps. Tonight, though, she doesn't have the energy to feel guilty, too wrapped up in the fear that the baby will come before Levi can return from the expedition to feel burdensome, dozing off to a restless and dreamless sleep.


The day before Levi leaves on the expedition is frantic and busy. Petra feels more energy than she had since the false labor started, and she cleans with a frenzy, and also preparing several loaves of bread and other lunch items. The plan was to leave for her father's house before lunch, and she would stay with her father until Levi returned from the expedition. It was Levi's idea; Petra had protested at first, but Levi had been firm, pointing out the various reasons why it wasn't a good idea to leave Petra on her own so close to the due date. Petra caved, and was too focused on getting everything done in time for the carriage to remember what the midwife had mentioned about nesting.

The ride to Petra's father's home is arduously long in the carriage, and it isn't long before her lower back begins to ache. Levi does what he can, rubbing her back and just talking, whatever he can to distract her. Petra swears to never ride in a carriage again, at least not until after she's delivered. She'd rather walk six hours rather than take the two hour carriage ride again, not if it hurt this much.

Even after they disembark and Petra's quickly escorted into her old bed, the pain doesn't subside. Levi unpacks her things, and her father prepares a pot of tea for them to share. Petra falls into a fitful sleep before he's done, though, leaving her father and her husband to silently sip tea together in her room, borrowing two stool from the kitchen to stay close to her. Levi only wakes her when he's about to leave, kissing her tenderly and feeling her belly for one last time before he departs. He won't let her follow him down the stairs to the entry of the house, and Petra watches his back disappear behind the bedroom door, hoping he didn't notice the tears welling in her eyes.

She is not in the mood to tolerate much anything afterwards, though she grudgingly eats whatever her father gives her. The worry and concern in his face is too easy to see, and it's something Petra hates to see. It was the face he had worn throughout her recovery after that disastrous encounter with the Female Titan. Eventually, she falls back to sleep, though she wakes every few hours to more pain, aching that won't subside no matter how she shifts, even if she moves out of bed and walks.


Her father checks in on her in the early hours of the morning, just as the sun is beginning to rise. He asks if she still hurts, and she nods, still trying to pace the pain away. His brow furrows in concern, and he asks if she thinks the baby's coming early. Petra shakes her head hastily, and she knows her eyes are watering at the thought.
"It's too early," she tries to say, but she's cut off by another pulsing throb in her back, and there's no Levi to comfort her.

"We should get someone to look at you," her father says hesitantly, waiting for her reaction. Petra says nothing, only wipes away the tears that are beginning to fall.

The midwife her father finds is a rather ancient looking woman, and she brings along with her two young apprentices. The midwife takes one look at Petra before ordering her to lay back so she can see how dilated she is. Petra protests, says that the baby isn't due for another month, they can wait for a few more days, and the midwife only laughs, ordering one of her apprentices to start heating water and finding towels. Petra sobs and refuses--it can wait, it can wait, she says, but the midwife's hands are strong and firm, and she gives in to her orders, if only to try and stop the pain in her back.

"She's almost ready to push," the midwife says to the apprentice, then looks to Petra. "When did you back start hurting?" Petra answers dutifully that it had started on the carriage ride over, yesterday, just around lunch, and the midwife clucks her tongue. "Back labor, you should have been told about that." Petra wants to say something, but then there's another throb of pain--a contraction, she slowly realizes, a real live one. The baby is coming, and it's too late to tell Levi, who's surely departed with the rest of the expedition by now. Petra wails, covering her face with her hands. This is what she had feared, what she had been dreading the last week. "Get the birthing stool in here," the midwife tells the second apprentice, seeming to ignore Petra's distress.

'Almost ready', Petra found, was a terrible place that hurt. The midwife and apprentices tried to soothe her, giving her sugar water and rubbing her back and legs with balms, but it did little to lessen the pain. Lying in the bed was unbearable, and though the stool they brought in was better, it still hurt. Eventually, the midwife told her to get on all fours and brace herself on the bed. It was enough for Petra to protest--she wasn't some damned dog, but another contraction came, and she grudgingly follow the midwife's suggestion, pressing her face into the bedding to muffle the sound of her crying. It was terrifying, it hurt, Levi wasn't there to rub her back or even just be around, even behind the door. Fuck only knew where he was, he could be in the mouth of some titan while she was on her hands and knees, praying and begging whatever was out there to make it end.

And then ready came. Petra found herself pushing almost unconsciously, the pain actually subsiding somewhat as she bore down. "He's coming, you're doing well," the midwife says, and Petra feels some energy return to her. The contractions come, and she pushes with a low groan on the hardest ones, resting for brief moments on the milder contractions. The midwife reaches for a her hand, bringing down between her legs. "That's his head," she says, and Petra's mouth goes dry--tiny, wet, and maybe a little fuzzy. "Keep pushing, only a bit more," the midwife reminds her, and on the next contraction, Petra bears down as hard as she can, and that's all it takes, and Petra swears she has never felt something as odd as that little body slipping from her.

She collapses on the floor, panting and bewildered, and the midwife hands her a tiny, gooey creature. In the low light of the lanterns and morning sun, Petra sees her son's face for the first time, red, squished and rather unhappy. Her heart soars as she hears him cry, and when the midwife moves to take him away to clean him and to check on him, Petra almost can't hold back the urge to strike her. The apprentices are quick to distract her. "It's not over yet," one says, and Petra moans, remembering the other details her first midwife had told her.
At the very least, the afterbirth came out much more quickly and easily than the actual baby had, and her son was quickly returned to her. Petra looked over him with greedy eyes, counting his fingers and toes and just touching him. It didn't matter that she was still on the floor, sitting in what was quite a lot of filth. The midwife showed her how to touch his cheek to help him latch on to her breast, and it was the strangest feeling, to hold her child so close. He watch her with unfocused eyes as he nursed, and Petra couldn't stop herself from petting him, from murmuring words that didn't quite follow. He was tired quickly, and the apprentices showed her how to swaddle him to help keep him calm. When his eyes finally shut, Petra realized just how exhausted she was.

But the midwife wouldn't let her rest, not just yet. "Help her clean up, and get them in her father's bed," she ordered to one, and then told the other to start cleaning up the mess. Petra protested--she was dirty, but she was too tired to care. The midwife ignored her, told her that she would be back to check on her in the morning, and then left the room, possibly to discuss payments with her father. Again, Petra simply follows commands, letting the apprentice sponge off the sweat, grime, and whatever other bodily fluids she was covered in, letting them drape a clean gown over her body, then almost stumbling into her father's bed, all the while never losing sight of her son.

The next few days pass by in a blur of sleep deprivation and physical exhaustion. The baby sleeps, but not for long, and he is always hungry. Petra worries that he isn't getting enough, but when the midwife comes to check on her, she calmly explains that if stopped on his own, then he was full. Petra forces herself to believe this, but worries none the less.
Her father sits with her as much as he can, and feeds her good things like meat and soft bread, and Petra readily gulps them down, feeling like she hasn't eaten a full meal in months. When she's awake, her father chats with her about idle things, telling her stories about her mother and when she was still a little girl. Petra learns that the midwife who delivered her son is also the midwife who delivered her. He tells her that once he found out the baby's weight, he sent a message to the Survey Corps HQ. He's sure that Levi won't wait a moment to return. Petra smiles and nods, cradling the infant closer to her. He asks what name they chose for the baby--the midwife needs to know for her records. Petra says that Levi hadn't chosen yet, and her father hesitates. Petra shakes her head, and repeats herself. Levi will choose when he comes back, and nothing more is said on the subject.

Hours are slow, but the days come and go quickly. Petra finds herself in tears when the baby won't latch, but then they sleep for a few hours, and it's like the terrible fifteen minutes of crying and frustration (on both ends) were just a moment in time. Petra often found herself at wit's end, trying to figure out just what he needed when he cried--she didn't understand his cries, they all sounded the same. Her father helped when he could, but it had been a long time she had had helped rear an infant. Slowly, but surely, Petra finds a rhythm with the baby, though it's by no means perfect.

Seven days pass, and Petra can only continue to wait for Levi to return on the last day, trusting in his promise to return to her and the baby.