Victoria The Billionaires Maid

I took out my laptop and typed in: premature labor and delivery. I read through a lot of medical sites. None of them seemed to worry much about a baby that was born at thirty-five weeks. It seemed that everything major would be developed and working by that time, the major concern would be weight and developmental milestones.

After that, I read through some of the testimonials of people who had children born prematurely. One woman who’d had her baby at thirty-five weeks noted that at that point the child wasn’t even considered premature, but “pre-term.” She said he was four years old now and keeping up with his peers in both his growth and his development.

Another mother said her son was only three pounds at birth. The doctors thought he would be small and sickly for most of his life. He’s fifteen now, she said, and over six feet tall. Reading all of that made me feel better. It also made me feel strange. I knew I was getting attached to the idea of having a son. I just hadn’t realized how attached.

I was thinking about things now in the future; when he learned how to walk and talk when he started school when he had his first girlfriend. I wanted to be there for all of it. I wanted to be someone that he could look up to and respect. I didn’t want to just be some rich guy who had a gaggle of lawyers at his disposal that told him what to do and how to do it. I also wanted to be with his mother. I wanted Vicki more than I had allowed myself to admit. I care for her so deeply that my chest physically aches when I think about it.

Cassandra can take the money. The tabloids can have a field day. My parents can give me their quizzical, disappointed look. I don’t care because I knew that this had worked out perfectly. I’d fallen for her by accident and it took everything that happened in between to make me realize that she was the one I’d been waiting for my entire life.

VICTORIA’s [POV]

I realized as I was dilated to about eight and the contractions were about two minutes apart, the reason God had invented the maternal instinct… if not for that, I may have just given up and said, “Forget this, I’ve changed my mind.”

But there was that instinct there that drove you on. You knew that you had to do this and make sure this baby came safely into the world. I wanted that more than anything at this point. I wanted him to be safe and healthy.

While I lay there for the two minutes that seemed to only be two seconds, between pains, I tried to imagine what he would look like. I hoped that he had Alex’s eyes and maybe my blonde hair. He’d be gorgeous.

I can’t imagine that he’ll be anything else anyways. I often wondered if parents of unattractive children would even know if they were unattractive. I doubted it and then I thought about my mother and her endless criticisms.

I vowed that no matter what, I’d never be like that. I was going to do my best every day to tell him something good about himself. I wanted him to grow up knowing that anything was possible as long as he believed in himself. I was finally beginning to believe that about myself, but it had been a long time in coming.

“Victoria! How are you?” My doctor had arrived at last.

“Hi Dr. Patterson. I’m doing okay…” Another pain seized me. He watched the monitor as it did.

“I know you’re probably a little bit anxious because we’re a little early. But at this point, the chances are you’ll have a very healthy baby. He will likely be small… but if we have to, we’ll keep him here until he gains enough weight. His heartbeat is good and strong and you’re young and healthy, so all should go well.”

I nodded, another pain was starting; I tried to breathe through it, but it was getting harder. I could feel the sweat begin to bead up and roll down the side of my face. I was really glad I’d pulled my hair back this morning or it would be a sticky mess in my face.

“They’re getting a lot closer. Are they harder too?” I nodded again. I’d barely begun to relax from that one and another started. Involuntarily a little cry escaped my lips. “I’m going to have the nurse come in and we’ll check you again. I think you may be ready.”

The nurse came in and together she and the doctor checked. He said that I was dilated to ten and “fully effaced” whatever that meant. I didn’t care. I just wanted to get this show on the road. I concentrated on the pains while the bed was broken down and moved around underneath me. I heard the doctor say that he was “crowning” and I could push soon.

“Sir! You can’t just come in here!” I turned my head and thought I was hallucinating. Alex was standing in the doorway and the five foot tall nurse was trying to block the big man’s way into the room. His face looked more determined than I’d ever seen it.

“It’s okay. He’s the father.” She stepped aside. I think he would have stepped over her if she hadn’t. He came up to the bed and grabbed my hand.

“Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

With tears in my eyes I nodded. “We’re fine. What are you doing here?”Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“Karen called me, thank God. I wasn’t going to let you go through this alone. Besides, I wanted to be here. I want to see my son be born. I hope that’s okay with you.”

I felt a tear escape down my cheek as another pain hit me. I tightened my grip on his hand. It was amazing how much it helped to have him to hold on to. When I could speak again I said, “It’s better than okay. Thank you.”

He looked distressed, like he hated seeing me in pain. It made my heart feel good, especially when he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. When he stood back up, I had the worst pain I’d felt so far and I felt an incredible need to bear down.

“Doctor! I need to push.”

He was doing something on his end and he said, “Hang on just a second Vicki, just one more second…”

“No! I have to push now!” Alex still looked distressed, but he put his hand on my forehead and brushed the hair there back and made shushing noises.

“You’re doing so good Vicki. I’m so proud of you. You can do this. Thank you for doing this. Thank you for not letting anyone pressure you to do something you didn’t believe in. I’m so very proud of you.”

“Okay Vicki,” the doctor said. “With the next pain, push as hard as you can.” I started to nod, but the pain hit and I pushed. I felt like I was crushing Alex’s hand but he didn’t seem to care.

“You can do this. You got this. I can’t wait to meet our son.” It only took about three pushes and he was out. The pain was over. I was shaking all over and my baby was crying… loudly. Alexander was grinning from ear to ear and suddenly a wiggly, wet little baby boy was laid across my belly. I looked down at him, all covered in muck and I knew that I would never see anything as beautiful again. “Look what you did,” Alex said with tears in his eyes. “He’s beautiful.”

“He’s perfect,” the doctor said. “A little small, but not too bad. Dad, do you want to cut the cord?” Alex’s eyes were a mixture of joy and terror.

Alex looked at me as if asking for permission and I said, “Go ahead.”

The baby’s cord was clamped close to his belly and the doctor handed the scissor things to Alex. His hand trembled slightly as he snipped and once the baby was loose the nurse said, “I have to clean him up and weigh him. He’ll be back in a minute or two.”

Alex was still staring at him in awe. “Hurry,” he said. He dropped down in the chair next to my bed and lay his head down against me. I could smell his musky shampoo and I couldn’t help myself… I ran my hand through his soft hair. He closed his eyes and just lay there for a few seconds and then he lifted his head up and looked at me again. I saw the same awe and wonder in his eyes that he’d looked at the baby with and it filled me up with such strong emotion that I wasn’t sure what to do with it all… so I cried again.