It was 3am when it hit. You had just waddled your way out of the bathroom when you felt a sharp pain, and as you grabbed the bookshelf to your left to brace yourself you felt wetness spreading on your legs.
Your water just broke.
As quick as you could, you ran into the bedroom to see Sweeney snoring away in bed. He had been so sweet during the whole ordeal. Granted he did pass out and then disappear when you told him you were pregnant, but once he returned he promised to be by your side every waking moment, to be the perfect father to his new son (He was sure it was a boy.) You’ve even caught him speaking to your belly once or twice when he thought you were asleep; he told your unborn child all sorts of stories. Of when he was a king, a sprite, and even how he met you.
He was the sweetest man you could’ve ever asked for.
“Sweeney wake the fuck up!”
Your hands repeatedly swung down on the leprechaun until you smacked dangerously close to his crown jewels, causing him to jump up in alert.
“M’ up! M’ up!” His eyes weren’t even open but he shot up in bed, his hands immediately covering his crotch for protection from another attack.
“Baby.” You breathed, the panic setting in.
A sleepy grin grew on his face.“Yes, darling?”
“Oh.Oh! OH!” Sweeney’s eyes shot open and he looked at you, holding your stomach with fear.
“Right! I’ll get the bags, you drive.”
“I’m in labor dumbass!”
“Right! Right! Sorry, I’ll drive lass.”
It seemed the panic was just beginning to set in for him.
“It’s happening its’ happening sweet FUCKING BRAN IT’S HAPPENING!”
The car ride was surprisingly silent. Your dingy truck sped down the road to the hospital as you groaned, pushing through the pain. Sweeney didn’t say much, he was too focused on getting you to the hospital and making sure you and his child were safe. He continuously mumbled under his breath as he drove with clenched hands. Perhaps a prayer of some sorts, but you were in too much pain to notice.
“I’m gonna be a dad. I’m gonna be a father.“
Needless to say, it was stressful for the both of you.
The workers at the hospital were scared. Not because of health complications. But because a 6’5 man of muscle, red in the face, burst in through the doors shouting. “WE GOT A BABY COMIN’!”
"You’re gonna get through this love I just know it.” Sweeney held your hand tight and you looked up at him and giggled. Worry was written all over his face and your contractions were torture but-
The image of Mad fucking Sweeney himself stuffed into scrubs too small for him was just too silly not to laugh at.
Sweeney smile and pressed his forehead against yours.
“Think you’re the only woman I know who could laugh in a time like this.”
He’d never felt such love before than having his wife laugh at him while going into labor.
When it came time to push the doctors didn’t know who they were more concerned about: you or Sweeney.
When you screamed he screamed.
When you cried he cried.
When you shouted and cussed at the doctors, we’ll what type of husband would he be if he didn’t back up his wife?
In the end, you gave birth to a healthy little boy by the name of Jeremy. He had his father’s freckles and green eyes.
“We did it love.”
“WE didn’t do anything.” You tried to sound angry but the fatigue was taking over your body so you merely sounded sleepy. “You ran around like a lunatic, meanwhile I pushed a fucking baby out of my vagina. Don’t steal my thunder leprechaun.”
He leaned down and kissed your sweaty forehead as you fell asleep.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Mo chroí.”
One of the doctors came in and asked if Sweeney wanted to hold his son. And as much as he did want to, he was scared shitless.
He was a large man who sometimes used more force than he means to, holding such a fragile being terrified him to his very core.
But all that fear washed away when the doctors set his son in his arms and he saw his baby boy staring up at him.
The world seemed to freeze in that moment. His son was so tiny and soft, curled up in his arms, unknowing of the pandemonium you both went through to bring the blessed boy into this world. No, he only knew his mother’s soothing voice and his fathers brawny arms, the same one’s he snored peacefully in right now.
"Hello Jeremy. I’m your old man, and I just want to say ahead of time I’m sorry.”
Sweeney had a bittersweet smile as he looked at the child before him. Holding his son brought a whirlwind of emotions and memories back all at once, hitting him square in the chest as he spoke to his son.
“You see, it’s been awhile since I’ve had to take care of a young babe such as yourself. So I may be a bit rusty. But you’ll forgive me, won’t you?”
The child blinked and reached forward, gripping his father’s pointer finger with all the might he could muster in his tiny hand.
Tears streamed down the older man’s face and he smiled, bringing the boy close to his chest as if the newborn baby would taunt him for crying.
“That’s my boy.”