31: THIRD TRIMESTER

"Braxton?"

"No," Marisol sighed. "Connery?"

"No," Grey responded, flipping the page of the baby book.

"This is so hard," Marisol groaned, flipping to her other side as the timer went off. Every few hours, she had to change her position. She was getting frustrated with how inactive she was. Sedentary life was annoying when it wasn't your choice.

"We'll find names."

"Before they're eighteen?" She laughed softly. "If we ever decide to do this whole baby thing again, let's make it only one?"

"We didn't exactly want triplets this time, you know."

"I'm telling you, you have super sperm." She smiled, hearing Greyson's laugh. She sobered up a bit, looking out their bedroom window to the stars. "Do you think I'll lose my sight again?"

He stayed quiet and put the book down only fro a second. "I'm not sure, Marisol. We've never talked about what happens if you do."

"It's going to be hard. You know, taking care of babies. I'm not sure how I will manage."

"Well, you have me–"

"You're an Alpha," she whispered, "you never get breaks. One day you'll be too busy to help me change a diaper or get them dressed."

"You have the pack too."

"They already don't see me as an adequate Luna."

"Why do you say that–"

"Because they didn't tell me what you were planning to do just because you told them not to."

He stayed quiet as he listened. "I told you–"

"I know, and this isn't an argument about that. I know," she whimpered softly as she felt tears well in her eyes, "I know you did what you thought was best. I just mean, I think we should consider getting more help, you know?"

"A nanny?"

"Yeah, maybe? They will have to be a lycan, but I'm sure we could find someone, right?"

"Would it make you feel better to have one?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Because I'm terrified that I won't be able to take care of my children."

"Marisol," he whispered, taking her into his arms. "You're going to be a great mother."

He didn't understand how much that meant to her. "Will you be okay if you lose your sight again?"

She nodded after a few seconds. "I'll readjust. I always do."

❥

In the night, she had woken up to use the bathroom. As she washed her hands, she winced from another Braxton Hick. She groaned as it lasted longer than usual. She rolled her eyes before looking down at her stomach. "You kids are really giving me a run for my money."

She returned to bed, laying down in Grey's arms as another Braxton ravished her. She winced but didn't make noise. She turned onto her back before sitting up. Her hair was wet from a shower she had taken, so it was sticking to her skin. She was glad because it cooled her down significantly. She didn't want to wake Grey so she got up and went into the bathroom. She used the ladies' room, and as she washed her hands, she felt a small pop and then a small stream down her legs.

For a moment she was confused; she wasn't due for a few more weeks, but as another Braxton Hick started, she realized that this wasn't normally how they felt. They were more intense this time. She wobbled back into their room, waking Grey.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"I think I'm in labor."

"Oh my Goddess, okay, we have prepared for this," he said to himself as he sat up. "Here, sit down. I'll get our hospital bag and your outfit." Before he rushed out nervously, he kissed the top of her head. He was clearly more frazzled than she was, and it made her laugh. He was so frantic; he didn't realize they still had to call the hospital.

She reached over for her phone, dialing Dr. Meredith who answered almost immediately. "Hey, I'm sorry to wake you at four in the morning, but I'm pretty sure my water broke."

Meredith laughed on the other end. "Is Greyson doing that freakout thing all men do when their SO goes into labor?"

"Definitely," she laughed.

"I'll meet you at the hospital, alright?"

"Alright, thank you."

"For now, keep an eye on your contractions."

Marisol hung up just as Grey came back in with seven bags in his hands. "Do we need anything else?"

She smiled, standing up. "How about names? For our children?"

"Damn, we still haven't decided. Wait, wait, don't walk! I'll carry you!"

"You got another thing coming if you think imma let you carry my fat ass to the car."

"You're not fat, Marisol," he sighed.

"I'm the definition of fat; I'm pregnant with multiple babies."

Greyson gave up and held her hand as they walked to the car. He quickly packed their bags into their car and jogged to the driver's seat. As he turned on the car, Marisol leaned forward as another contraction started. Greyson rubbed her back as she practiced her breathing techniques. "They're 20 minutes apart. I brought you some water, do you want it?"

"No, I'm okay." She swallowed the pain and started breathing normally again as the 60 second contraction ended.

Greyson was too frantic, driving out of the driveway to realize that she was smiling. He clearly was panicking more than she was. He was probably worried about the C-section, which admittedly, she was nervous too. But she knew that C-sections were routine, and that she'd be okay. For Grey, this could possibly mean his mate wouldn't survive. His people didn't have C-sections, and she was sure that he had researched what could go wrong.

She reached over, grabbing his hand that was on the steering-wheel. "Hey, everything's going to be okay."

"I'm supposed to be comforting you," he said with a small smile, looking at her.

"I know you're nervous, but everything will be fine, you know that?" She laughed, rubbing her stomach. "Grey," she said softly, "we're going to have our babies. Be happy, not so stressed."

"You're right, you're right. I'm sorry." He laid a firm hand on her thigh as they drove through the city. When they arrived at the hospital, they parked in the maternity spot outside the emergency room. He slowed down to her speed as they walked inside. As soon as they walked through the door, Dr. Meredith came through the two double doors, smiling.

"Hello, soon-to-be-parents! Are we ready to have these three little babies?"

"Oh, yes," Marisol whispered. "I'm so uncomfortable."

Meredith laughed. "Well, we have a wheelchair for you here to bring you up to your room."

Grey pushed her chair into the elevator to go up into the maternity ward. They unpacked their things, and she changed into her medical gown after getting her vitals checked.

"I really don't want to lay down again," she groaned.

"How about we take a walk down the hallway?"

As Grey spoke, Dr. Meredith walked in with a broad smile. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I wanted to talk to you. Do you have a moment?"

"Yeah, of course," Marisol agreed, sitting down.

"You are early, which is normal for multiple births, but I want to do a few tests to make sure the babies are fully developed for your C-section, alright?"

"Sounds good."

❥

Marisol was leaning against the wall as Greyson rubbed her back. She tried to watch breathing to get through the pain, but her contractions were getting closer, and the pain was getting worse. The babies were healthy, although the little girl's lungs were smaller than the boys'.

"They're getting closer," Greyson whispered.

"Yeah, believe me, I know. We still haven't chosen names."

"It's okay to not be completely prepared. We can choose them once they're born."

"Are your parents and my mom here yet? The surgery is soon."

"They're in the room. Do you want to go lay down for a little?"

"Yeah, that would be good."

When Marisol walked back into her room, her family was already waiting. She was glad to see them, but the sheer pain somewhat masked it. She laid to the side, whining softly as another contraction started.

"How are you feeling, sweetie?"

Looking at her mother, she smiled tiredly. "Exhausted, honestly. It's been a few hours."

"I know, honey, but you are doing so well. You just have to stay awake for a few more hours, and then you can sleep, and all of us can take care of them until they're hungry again."

"Thanks, mom."

"Greyson went to get you some ice, do you need anything else?"

"No, I'm okay."

"Well, can I ask something?"

Marisol nodded.

"Have you thought about marriage? I mean, is he the one? Do you want to be with him?"

"Of course, mom. I haven't thought much about it, honestly. It's not that important to me. Why do you ask?"

"I was just curious, sweetie. I did the traditional thing, and got married, and not I'm getting divorced. You have to do what you think is best. I will say, though, that if your kids have his last name, somethings will be difficult."

"I know, mom. I don't think he wants to, honestly, and that's okay. I don't need to be married to know that he loves me." Marisol sat up as Grey came in with her ice. "Can you rub my back?"

Grey took off his shoes and got onto the bed behind Marisol so she could lean against him. She started crying after a second from the pain, and it honestly broke his heart. "If I could labor, I would."

Laughing, she nodded. "I know."

"You're doing so well, beautiful, you know that? In a few hours you would have given me three beautiful children. They're going to have your deep skin and beautiful eyes–"

"No, I hope they have your eyes."

Smiling, he nodded. "And we'll figure out names, of course. Put them in those little matching outfits you bought at the store. Maybe take some photos."

"Marisol," Meredith called, walking into their room after a small knock. She was dressed in her usual scrubs, but this time she had on a surgical cap. "Are you ready to meet your kiddos?"

Marisol had to admit; this shit was scary. She couldn't feel the bottom half of her body because of the anesthesia, and there was a large sheet in front of her so she couldn't see any of the procedure. She scoffed at herself when she realized that she probably wouldn't be able to see in a few moments anyway.

She could hear the steady beat of her heart and the sound of latex snapping onto the surgeon's hands as they came toward her.

"Greyson?"

"I'm here," he said, coming into sight. He had a mask over his nose and mouth, but she could tell he was smiling by his eyes.

She just looked at him. She wanted to memorize him. She could feel tears fall down her cheeks, and he wiped them.

"What's wrong?"

"The worse thing about losing my sight is that I won't be able to see you anymore, and I won't be able to see our children."

"Maybe you won't lose your sight again. Marisol–"

"I'm scared," she whispered. "W-what if, what if one of them is blind? Life is hard when you're disabled–"

"They're healthy, Marisol, but even if they were blind, they would be loved and cared for like any other child."

"I know," she whimpered. "It's just–" She was cut off by a shrill cry throughout the operation room. Greyson left for just a second to cut the umbilical cord, and when he returned, he had a screaming baby in his arms. He gently placed the baby on Marisol's chest while still holding them so she could see.

"She's beautiful," she pouted.

"She's also the firstborn. I'm going to have a heart attack."

"Mr. Weston, may I see her for a moment? I just have to check her vitals."

Greyson handed the little girl off to the nurse, and Marisol watched as she was taken away and put onto a table. Marisol could see Meredith's shadow as she lifted her arms, and another cry was heard.

Greyson, again, stood and cut the cord and then brought the baby boy to Marisol, who sobbed as a new mother would. "Oh, God, he has your nose."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No," she whispered. She watched painstakingly as Greyson once again handed the baby off to a nurse who took him to check his vitals.

"Alright, Marisol, one more to go. How are you doing?"

"I'm okay, Dr. Meredith."

After a few minutes, the last baby boy was delivered and laid onto Marisol's chest for her to see. And as she focused on her baby boy's face, she realized that it was slowly fading away. She blinked, and suddenly all she saw was black.