When they returned to the ancestral home for New Year's, Cecilia finally broke the news of her pregnancy to Grandpa Rivers and Grandma Rivers.
The old couple were ecstatic, unable to stop smiling, but their joy was tinged with worry for Cecilia. They fussed over Xavier Fostern, repeatedly urging him to take good care of her.
With the arrival of spring, Cecilia’s belly slowly began to swell.
Her pregnancy hit her hard—so much that she couldn’t go to her studio anymore: everything was left in Mia Moore’s capable hands.
Little Nian Gao was utterly fascinated, laying next to Cecilia every day and talking to his soon-to-be little sister.
“Mom, will your belly burst if it gets any bigger?”
“No, silly. Once it’s big enough, your sister will come out. In a few days, when you see Aunt Yingying, you’ll notice her belly is even bigger.”
“That means she’s got an extra-chubby sister in there.”
…
Song Ying stayed home to rest until early spring. Once everything was stable with the baby, she returned to work at the hospital.
In her words, work was the safest place to be. If anything happened, all she had to do was walk straight into the delivery room and give birth right there.
Of course, she was half-joking. By the seventh month, Song Ying sensibly started her maternity leave, just in time to finally get started on that dissertation she had put off for so long.
Julian Jarvis spent most of his days at home with her—this was their first child, after all, and they both took it very seriously.
The baby came in June. Song Ying herself was an obstetrician, so she didn’t rush to check in at the hospital. With her due-date baby heavy and low in her belly, Julian Jarvis refused to step away from her side for even a second.
Sometimes she’d wake in the morning to a dull ache, perfectly normal for the final days. Song Ying would curl up on the couch, flipping through an international medical journal.
Her recently published article had just been featured there, stirring up quite a bit of buzz.
Julian Jarvis had already taken half a month off at home. He’d promised Song Ying he’d just handle a bit of business at the office that day, and then he could stay home through her whole first month postpartum.
As fate would have it, the very half day he was gone, Song Ying’s labor started.
The pain hit suddenly without any warning.
She tossed the journal aside, her slender, pale hand pressing into the plush new sofa.
She checked her belly, making sure the baby’s position was fine.
After all those deliveries she’d assisted, she knew just how much childbirth could hurt. She’d seen every kind of expectant mother in the hospital—the ones who sobbed and bit people with pain, the ones who passed out…
But when pain truly struck, Song Ying realized this agony went far beyond anything she’d imagined.
"Ugh—ah…"
How could it hurt this much? The baby had always been a bit on the small side, but this pain was not normal—sharp and urgent.
Worried it might be a precipitous labor, she realized she was all alone in a silent, empty house.
If it was precipitous labor, she needed to get to the hospital immediately.
She propped herself up, searching for her phone—then remembered it must be in the upstairs bedroom.
Clutching her belly, Song Ying inched her way to the stairs. After just a few steps, another contraction gripped her.
The intervals between pains were almost nonexistent now—she was nearly sure it was precipitous labor, and anxiety began to creep in.
If the baby came this fast, she could give birth within an hour or two.
"Easy, baby, slow down… There’s no rush…"
She grasped the handrail with sweat slicking her back, carefully making her way upstairs, heart pounding. Where on earth was Julian Jarvis?
Meanwhile, Julian Jarvis was still at the office.
He hadn’t finished his work, but his eyelids kept twitching. His gentle features were drawn and impatient—he just couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he’d had since he left the house.
“Xiao Zhao,” he called to his assistant, grabbing his phone as he stood.
“Yes, President?”
“Please reorganize these documents. Any that need my signature, bring them to my home in a couple days. I’m heading back now.”
“Oh… okay!”
Before the assistant could reply, the boss was already out the door.
Julian Jarvis called home first, but no one picked up. His heart skipped a beat, though he reassured himself Song Ying was probably just reading downstairs.
The moment he slid into the car, Song Ying’s call finally came through.
“Honey, why didn’t you answer—”
He was cut off by labored breathing at the other end. "Julian Jarvis, it’s time. I’m in labor."
“What? I was just about to head back! Don’t be scared, babe—I’m coming.”
Sweat broke out in Song Ying’s palms. She pretty much crawled up the stairs, pain pressing down hard and fast as the baby shoved lower. “Ugh… it hurts.”
Hearing Julian Jarvis’s voice, there was a trace of tears in her voice. She knew she was supposed to be calm, but nothing had prepared her for this.
“Sweetheart, lie down on the bed. I’m on my way—just hold on.”
Julian Jarvis started the car, his hand on the key trembling.
“Don’t rush—drive safe,” Song Ying warned, not voicing just how wrong things felt.
After hanging up, she called the hospital, trying to keep her voice steady as she arranged for a doctor to come to the house.
She stayed kneeling by the bed on the carpet. Only after ending the call did she finally let out a cry of pain.
Her phone slipped to the floor as she braced herself on the bed. She reached for the alcohol disinfectant by the nightstand and took off her pants to check for herself.
With her belly in the way, it wasn’t easy. Opening to three centimeters usually took time, but she was already almost at two.
She tucked a pillow under her lower back, easing onto the bed to keep the baby from descending too fast.
Rubbing her belly, her pale face finally softened just a little.
"Little troublemaker, why are you in such a hurry? You couldn’t wait even a minute, huh?"
A powerful contraction was the only reply. "Ugh—won’t even let me talk."
Moments later, she heard the front door open, then hurried footsteps on the stairs.
Julian Jarvis burst in, drenched in sweat despite the 30°C heat outside, breathless from rushing home.
Seeing Song Ying’s pale, pain-stricken face on the bed, his heart clenched tight.
"Yingying, are you hurting a lot? Let’s get you to the hospital."
Precipitous labor was rough—harder than regular contractions—and Song Ying was almost beyond speech.
She squeezed Julian Jarvis’s hand tightly and shook her head, "No… Can’t make it… Something’s not right…"
"Looks like… ah, I’ll have to do it here—at home."
"Don’t worry… I already called for help."
Julian Jarvis knelt by her bedside, mopping the sweat from her brow. "What can I do, Yingying?"
"Help me change into a nightgown…"
Her clothes were soaked through with sweat—she’d just been wearing house clothes and pajama pants, but she’d need a change soon anyway.
Julian Jarvis hurried to the wardrobe, gently helped her change, and, seeing her belly taut with contractions, his eyes filled with tears as he covered her with a small blanket.
Ten more minutes passed. The doctor hadn’t arrived yet, and Song Ying was at her limit.
The phone on the floor rang madly—they'd hit some traffic trouble and had to take a detour.