Fertile Islands (Patreon)

Note: This is a story-prompt for Absolus.

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Alana’s hand clutched her belly as she waddled off the dock. She took in a deep breath of the fresh ocean air. She had finally made it.

Alana had wanted to visit Fertile Islands ever since she had first learned about it, back in her first trimester. It was a popular tourist destination, catered specifically to pregnant women, promising a blissful pregnancy — no matter the stage — and a smooth delivery. Their whole motto was “giving birth will be a breeze.”

The islands were famous and revered by all. Some claimed it had magical properties, though even Alana, in all her excitement, knew that was a bit far-fetched. She was just looking forward to the massages, treatments, fitness classes, and expertly-prepared exotic food dishes that would all facilitate a great experience and a comfortable birthing experience.

Alana chose the ‘Bountiful Birth’ package. It had been the only one still available when she had booked six months ago. All of the other, more popular, packages had been completely sold out even with the long wait. Alana knew she had been lucky to get in at all.

She had been truly worried that she would not make it in before she went into labor. But now, at nine months pregnant, she had just managed to squeeze in before her reservation became pointless. Her spot was guaranteed until she gave birth, which would surely be imminent. Alana was still excited to reap whatever unique benefits Fertile Islands had to offer between then and now.

She was flushed and panting as she waddled to her suite. After she settled in, she was guided to an orientation which included a tour of the expansive facilities. Everyone was so warm and welcoming, and Alana already loved it. Time seemed to flow by, as one day turned into the next. Wherever Alana went, staff members attended to her, offering her food and beverages, quilts and slippers, guiding her from one activity to the next. Sometimes she just lounged on the beach, or pigged out at the twenty-four hour luxury buffet. The whole experience truly was blissful.

Alana was in such a contented state, she hardly realized as days turned to weeks, or as her belly rapidly grew, expanding by inches as it became fuller and heavier, her waddle all the more pronounced. She was absentmindedly leaning against walls or clutching furniture wherever she hauled her swollen body. In no time, her abdomen had grown immense.

And Alana didn’t notice it. Not until her first labor pains started up, and she snapped out of her daze. As she winced and clutched her contracting belly, she knew something was off. She should have gone into labor weeks earlier. And her size—it was just absurd. Her belly was enormous, and she could hardly wrap her arms around it. She looked as though she had a beachball tucked under her dress!

Alana was terribly concerned, though the exacerbating contractions didn’t afford her much time to deliberate. Instead, she allowed herself to be pushed into a wheelchair and rolled off to the birthing suites, where she was soon straining and pushing, her face flushed and sweaty. Her swell bobbed and heaved, practically towering over her, as it stretched out the hospital gown she had on. All the while, she tried not to think about how huge this baby must be. Because that would make this birth all the more daunting.

“You’re doing great,” the attending physician encouraged. “Give me one more big push.”

“EERRRGGHHHHH!” Alana roared, pushing with all her energy. She slumped back as she heard a hoarse crying. She had done it. She wiped the tears out of her eyes as a small, pink infant was lowered to her chest. She cupped him, stroking his back. A boy.

“Okay, you’re doing great,” said the doctor, as he leaned back down between Alana’s thighs. “The second triplet is already crowning. Push with your next contraction.”

“W-what?” stammered Alana, baffled. She was only having one baby, not three! “I think you’re confused, I’m not—nnnghh—errghhhhhh!” She arched and groaned, yet resisted the urge to push. As the contraction mitigated, Alana dizzily reflected on things. Her belly was still fully swollen, terribly huge, and heavy. She could feel more squirming movements inside her. Triplets? But in all her prenatal care and scans, it had always been only one. “I—” she fumbled. “Wh-what’s happening to me? I—I’m not—”

“Alana, you have to push,” the doctor chastised. “I know it’s scary, but you’re already a third of the way they are. Don’t you want to meet your other babies? Think about how great it will be once all four of you are finally together. Now on this next contraction—”

It barreled through her, even stronger than the last one, her belly clenching and squeezing, the crowning baby shuttering forward, and she just couldn’t fight as it pushed its way into existence.

Alana screamed.