In Which William Bridgerton is Born Prematurely
Summary: “A third child did not come early.” Or, William Benedict Bridgerton makes his appearance a few weeks earlier than his parents expected. (Prompt: Benophie babies for Benophie Week)
Setting: My Cottage, 1822
Warnings: Discussions of premature birth and possible child death
Benedict Bridgerton didn’t know much about pregnancy or childbirth. However, he had been relatively certain that a third child did not come early. But that belief had been shaken hours earlier, when Mr. Crabtree informed that his wife had gone into labor a month early, give or take a week or two. A third child did not come early. A first child could, usually as the result of a couple having premarital relations.
“It’s too soon, Benedict. What if he’s very, very ill?” Sophie whimpered, her green eyes welling with tears, and Benedict would give anything to remove the pain and fear in her eyes… emotions that were probably reflected in his own eyes as well.
“I know, love. I know,” he responded, squeezing her hand tightly.
“Benedict?”
“Hmm?”
“When the baby starts coming, please stay. I don’t want to be alone. Please don’t leave me this time.”
He blinked back the tears, hastily wiping them away with the back of his free hand. “The doctor will be here,” he replied.
Sophie shook her head. “No. I want you. I… I’m scared, Ben.”
“Okay, Soph, I’ll stay. And I'm scared, too.”
Sophie’s lip trembled and tears threatened to spill out of her brilliantly green eyes. He paused for a moment, before shaking his head and making the decision to climb into the bed next to his wife. His lips pressed against her forehead and temple, as he muttered sweet nothings in the hopes of providing comfort.
Benedict knew this was risky. Even though women had been doing it for all of history, it was risky. Women died, babies died. It seemed nothing short of a miracle that his mother had survived eight births and hadn’t lost a single child. He didn’t know how his father had done it, waiting for hours on end for something women routinely died from. (Hell, he didn’t even know how he had managed to wait during Charles’s and Alexander’s births.) Sophie’s mother had greeted death after, or maybe even during, birth.
“Benedict?” Her voice broke his trance.
“Yes, my love?” he asked.
“I think this one will be harder than Charles or Alexander.”
“Me too. They seem so easy, when compared to this.”
They fell into an easy, yet tense, silence. Benedict’s fingers combed gently through Sophie’s blonde locks.
“Who do you think he will look like?” she asked.
“She will look like you,” he replied, keeping up the same pointless argument that they’d had during each of Sophie’s pregnancies. She thought the baby would be a boy, while he thought the baby would be a girl. It didn’t matter either way.
“The boys both have your hair.”
“With your eyes.”
“I want one with your eyes.”
He smiled. It was true. Charles and Alexander had both inherited his dark chestnut hair and her brilliantly green eyes. Somehow, the boys were an amazing mix of the two of them, each in their own little ways. Charles had his nose and Sophie’s mouth. Alexander had his ears and Sophie’s nose. He’d wager that this little one would be the same.
The knock on the door had him kissing Sophie’s head and then slipping out of the guest room to answer the door to let the doctor in. Both Charles and Alexander had been born in that room, because it was easier and then Sophie could be gently moved to the clean bed in their room with the baby. It was highly unusual, but Sophie had insisted on it with Charles. It had stuck and who was he to determine how Sophie gave birth?
It was nearly midnight before Benedict, Sophie, and a tiny baby boy were quietly ensconced in the master bedroom of My Cottage. Sophie had fallen asleep the moment she had hit their bed, which left Benedict marveling at his third son, a finger stroking over the baby’s smooth cheek. The baby was tiny, much smaller than either of his older brothers (who were currently sleeping at the Crabtrees’ daughter’s home). He’d also only emitted soft, weak cries. The doctor had told them that the baby’s lungs would probably be weak and that the next few days and weeks would be critical in determining the baby’s survival.
“Ben? How is he?” Sophie’s sleep roughened voice made him look up from the baby.
“He’s okay. Still breathing, thank God,” he replied.
“Can I try feeding him again?”
“Of course. Do you need any help?”
“Just hold him until I’m ready.”
“Okay.”
He waited as Sophie positioned herself and then gently handed her the baby. He woke up at the handover, but thankfully was receptive to Sophie’s attempts to feed him.
“He still needs a name,” Benedict whispered.
“What about William? I remember seeing that it has something to do with strength. And after you. We haven’t done that yet,” Sophie replied, stroking the baby’s head as he nursed.
“William Benedict Bridgerton. It suits him.”
“But he’ll live right?”
“God willing, yes.”
“He’s eating. That’s really good.”
“Yes, but he’s not truly crying yet, Soph. The doctor said that his lungs might be weak.”
“I just want William to be strong, just like his papa and brothers.”
“Me too, darling. Me too. Should we let the family know?”
“Maybe your mother? She might know something.”
“Okay. I’ll write to her now, and ask Mother not to tell anyone.”
He stood from the bed and crossed the room to the desk. He took out some paper and scribbled a quick note to his mother. He sealed it and walked quickly to the place where outgoing mail was to rest before returning to his wife and new son.
“Are you disappointed with another boy?” Sophie asked, once he had settled on the bed again and William secured in his arms again.
“No. I could never be disappointed with our children. I wouldn’t trade our boys for anything. Would I still like a girl? Yes, but not instead of our sons,” he replied.
Sophie smiled, and her head came to rest on his shoulder. “I’m scared. Charles and Alexander were both healthy. William isn’t.”
“I know, Sophie. I’m scared too. He’s so much smaller than either of them. But he’s breathing and eating. That’s got to be a good sign.”
“I don’t think that I’ll ever stop worrying, Benedict.”
“I know. I think that’s just part of having children. We worry over Charles and Alexander and they’re fine. Unfortunately, all we can do is wait.”
“Are you going to sketch him?”
“William? Of course. I did Charles and Alexander when they were babies. Of course, I’m going to draw William, too. No matter what happens, William Benedict Bridgerton will get a portrait.”
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DAY 2-5 Benophie Week Fics
I've been pretty busy with work so not had a chance to do this so I'm sorry i'm putting them all on here in one go so people can see them all as there has been some fantastic work so far and I can't wait to see the rest for day 6 and 7!!
THESE ARE DAY 2 ON WAYS ONLY. DAY ONE FICS CAN BE FOUND HERE
@kassioppe has written a little series with all their prompts in a story: Benophie - One shots
@aldaraareads has created a little series of work which can be found here: Benophie Week 2022
All we had was one night by @historylaura
fame is a cruel lover by @jehanprouvaire (also available in spanish)
pink scrubs by @sophiamariabeckett
Everything by @bridgertonbabe (i know it's not specifically for BW but i've add it anyway :P)
Stories by @ learningtolove (not sure on the socials sorry!)
a rose by any other name
Best friend's brother
Stories by @mrsnorapalmer:
June 5th is for lovers
loves long journey
i think i wanna marry you
Stories by @gingerbat (I can't find a social media handle i'm sorry!)
kisses instead of cigarettes
what is it to truly admire a woman?
and then we have mine... (@hallownightsblog for anyone who doesn't know me hahaha)
In Sickness and in Health... until Death do we part
A Work of Art
Changes
Paws for Thought
We have been truly blessed so far and if you have any prompts you want to write still for the previous days please do keep writing and posting!!! i will be still accepting them!!!!
Just because the day has passed doesn't mean you've missed out!
i'll do another one on Sunday or monday to wrap up the fics for the week!
can't wait to see the rest folks!
keep writing, keep creating!
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