Dresses and Bows (Hamish and Dylan)

The pain had been coming for the last two days, but that morning, while getting ready, it was considerably worse. Aimee had been trying to get ready for Christmas with Dylan's parents, but when she woke and stood up, the pain that surged through her stomach caused her to lose her breath and sit back down. She shook Dylan awake before practically screaming to him that it was time. He sprung up, threw on some clothes and packed the bags and infant seat in the car, before helping Aimee in. Seeing Dylan drive so fast would have been almost cute if she hadn't been in the astounding amount of pain she was in.

She was in too much pain to care about what happened when they got to St. Mungo's, all she remembered was being strapped to a contraction machine and having a fetal doppler strapped to her. At some point, Dylan had allowed her to squeeze his hand during each contraction, which he quickly decided against. When she first squeezed his hand, she heard him let out a puff of air and say something that caused her to give him a glare. She wanted to punch him in that moment, after all, it was his fault she was in this position.

When she had first been checked, she was only three centimeters dilated, but her contractions were coming fast, which was why they admitted her. However, not long after being admitted, she felt her water break and the contractions grow even more painful than they were, causing her to curl up on her side the best she could and cry. Dylan tried to comfort her, but couldn't, and she wasn't progressed far enough to have the epidural. At some point she remembered Dylan calling his family,and telling her they were on their way and would wait outside. At another point, she remembered the door opening and the man she met a month or so ago, Hamish, walk in.

Dylan had been shocked that Mackenzie hadn't posed her arrival yet. He was looking forward to being able to take his daughter to his family's Christmas gathering, but that wouldn't happen. However, when he was brutally woken u Christmas morning, he knew it was time. He had no problem throwing the bags into the car or getting her to St. Mungo's, in fact, it was almost like he'd had rehearsed it several times before. Everything seemed to go smoothly, no hiccups whatsoever and for that, he congratulated himself. Usually, the expectant fathers seemed to blank out when the baby was coming, but he was quick alert, and calm.

When they had her hooked up to all the monitors, he offered her his hand, which she gladly took. He wasn't a fan of seeing her in pain, and he still wasn't exactly sure of what he should be doing now that they were in the delivery room. When the first contraction hit and she squeezed, Dylan winced, "You have no idea what this feels like," he groaned through clenched teeth. The death glare she gave him in return made him think twice on his words. Maybe it wasn't the appropriate phrase to say to the woman delivering your baby.

When she let go of his hand and curled up on her side, he moved closer to her and ran his fingers through her hair, whispering softly into her ear. When she began to cry, he felt his heart break. The Healers had said she couldn't have the pain medicine yet and it wounded his soul. He hated seeing her crying but worse of all, he hated seeing her in this amount of pain, knowing there was nothing he could do to make it better. He kissed her forehead and left the room for five minutes to call his family. He didn't want them to wonder where they were and he was instantly relieved to find out they'd be meeting them there. Not long after walking back into the room with Aimee, the Healer, or at least he assumed the older fellow was a Healer, walked in.

Hamish was rather surprised to find himself positioned in the maternity ward, even if he had requested the switch. Babies were far from his specialty, having served as a doctor in the army--and a muggle one at that--but he had specifically requested to be placed in or near the Maternity ward around Christmas.

He entered his first room and immediately grinned when he saw the occupants. It seemed he was just in time. "Well, fancy seeing you here. How is everything?" he asked as he checked to make sure everything was in order.

The mother looked to be in a great deal of pain, which was expected, but Hamish didn't become a doctor to watch people in pain. Too early for the medication, though. "I was wondering if I'd get to see you. Honestly, I wasn't sure they'd let me down here considering my specialty." Then, realizing how that might sound, "Not that you've anything to worry about. I do know what I'm doing, I assure you." Delivering babies was essentially the same in both magical and muggle worlds.

How is everything?

Did he really just ask that? Aimee wanted to shout at him and tell him exactly how much everything hurt, but through her pain, she managed to give the hint of a little smile and reply sarcastically. "Peachy keen. Everything is perfectly fine." She bit onto her lip, her hand going instinctively to her stomach where the baby hadn't kicked in a significant amount of time. However, she was told that it was to be expected since she was in the process of being birthed. The little whoosh sounds from the monitor that tracked Mackenzie's heart assure her that everything was fine and she found herself timing her breaths along with the heart beat.

Aimee had briefly wondered how Lyla had been doing, but now wasn't the time or place to ask. She was in far too great pain to ease her curious and thoughtful mind. All she found herself focusing on was the heart beat, what Mackenzie would look like and taking her mind off her contractions.

Considering his specialty? That was not reassuring in the least bit and had Aimee not have just gotten another contraction, she would have made it known. When he told her that he knew what he was doing, she gave him a questioning look as if to ask him if he really was aware of the birthing process and how to do it.

Hamish could tell the mother was not the least bit pacified when he assured her he knew what he was doing. It wasn't surprising, he supposed. He doubted he would have liked a doctor saying such things had he been present for the birth of his daughter. With a sigh, he scrubbed a hand over his face. He did know what he was doing. Delivering babies might not have been his specialty--that had been surgeries and messy, hurried stitching on a battlefield--but he had delivered babies to a few native mothers in his time abroad. They hadn't had all the comforts of a proper maternity ward there, so he was certain he would do perfectly fine now that he had them within easy reach.

The sarcasm in her reply was thick, and he smiled apologetically, "Unfortunately, the worst is yet to come," he stated honestly. Though, with the medication, the majority of the pain wouldn't register. She'd feel uncomfortable, to be sure, but the pain would be lessened considerably. "And how is our father-to-be?" He made a few final checks of the supplies to be sure everything was in order--it was, as expected.

His stethoscope hung around his neck, mostly for show and the comfort it's familiar weight brought him, but he did like to use it occasionally if his patients allowed--and it was necessary to check heartbeat or breathing. There were spells he could use, of course, but he liked the tangibility of holding and hearing the genuine heartbeat or breathing himself. It wasn't strictly necessary that he check the baby's heartbeat, but he felt he needed the absolute certainty hearing the steady thump would provide. So, he lifted one end, "Do you mind?" Of course, he couldn't be sure they'd know what it was, but he still wanted to be sure they--the mother especially--were okay with his use of it.