Reversal in the Delivery Room

Chapter 1
Reversal in the Delivery Room

Reversal in the Delivery Room

Thinking back on it now, I should have called for help when I first heard the baby’s cry coming from the supposedly empty birthing room. But I work, or at least used to work, in a busy hospital, and a baby left behind wasn’t unheard of if their mother had to be rushed away for surgery. Tracking them down didn’t seem like it should take more than one person, and as charge nurse for Labor & Delivery, it was my job to fix those mistakes.

Still, it shouldn’t have happened, especially not on my watch, and I had to work to stay calm as I rushed into the room. I was already rehearsing the lecture I’d give the person responsible for this screwup when I found them, but right now I needed to be calm for the baby’s sake.

I didn’t realize it until it was too late, but the room didn’t look as though it had been left in a rush. Everything was set out for the next woman who needed to deliver her baby, except for one thing. The bassinet in the corner was occupied by a newborn infant, who was wailing up a storm. I dashed over to her side and tried to speak soothingly to her.

“Shh, it’s OK, baby. I’m here now, you’re OK.” I said, reaching into the bassinet and picking her up. She calmed as I cradled her in my arms, and I looked for her ID bracelet as I rocked back and forth, trying to keep her calm. It wasn’t there, and I had to tamp down my anger again. Someone was going to be demoted over this. Without that bracelet, I had no idea where to begin looking for this little girl’s mother. Little did I know that it wasn’t going to matter for very long.

“Hey now! None of that!” I yelped as I felt tiny cold hands reach into my shirt, pulling on the cup of my bra. I’d let my anger distract me, but the baby in my arms now had my full attention once more. I reached down to tug her hand away, but her grip was so tight that I felt the bra cup come with it, baring my breast to the baby. She lunged for it with surprising speed, and had latched on before I quite realized what was happening.

“Oh baby, you’re going to be disappointed, I don’t have milk in there.” I said, realizing that she must be really hungry. “Hold on just a moment, I can get a bottle for you.”

I took two steps towards the door of the room, then felt a wave of dizziness wash over me, followed by a strange pressure in my breast. The baby in my arms sucked harder, and I felt something flow out of my breast into her mouth.

“I’m lactating? That can’t be right.” I said, as another wave of dizziness swept over me. I sat down in the first chair I could find, the one next to the birthing stool. I suddenly lacked all energy, as though it was draining out of me along with the milk, and couldn’t do anything but stare as the girl in my arms continued to nurse happily.

A moment later, I realized that she was growing as she nursed, and instead of a newborn, she now looked to be around nine months old. She sucked again, a long drink, and I watched in disbelief as she grew into a toddler in my arms. My dizziness increased, and my own body felt strange, but I was too preoccupied with the impossible child I was holding to pay much attention to that.

That was my second mistake. If I’d realized what was happening, much less what was about to happen, I’d have pulled her away from my breast and run from the room. But I didn’t, and that option vanished a few minutes later.

She continued to drink, growing into a grade-school child that filled my lap, yet kept suckling away at my breast. She now looked dimly familiar, like someone I’d known once upon a time, but I couldn’t quite place why. I lifted an arm to brush my hair out of my face and found my sleeve sliding off my shoulder and down my arm, like my shirt was several sizes too big. I stared at it for a moment, not quite comprehending what that meant, then another wave of dizziness passed through me and the sleeve grew even looser.

“What’s happening to us?” I asked, staring down at the child, no, the teenager now in my arms. She lifted her head from my breast as the dizziness crested, and I stared in shock at the very familiar face of my own teenage self.

“Don’t worry about it, everything will be fine soon.” My doppelganger said, climbing out of my lap. She towered above me as she stood, and her body seemed to be still growing, maturing into the body I saw in the mirror every morning. Well, almost. This was me from a decade ago, before the streaks of grey started showing up in my hair.

I felt a flash of anger for this imposter who’d so casually taken my place, but before I could do anything, she’d leaned forward and pressed one of her nipples into my mouth. I struggled for a moment, then a gush of creamy milk filled my mouth. She held my mouth in place, preventing me from spitting it out, and eventually I had to swallow it.

“Just calm down and drink, dear. It’ll make everything better.” She said as I swallowed.

It did, so help me, it really did. Suddenly, nothing mattered but getting more of that milk, and I let her scoop me up out of the chair and hold me in her arms so that I could drink more easily. I barely registered my clothes falling away, or just where the woman sat as she settled us into one of the positions I’ve guided many a new mother and baby into for their first long nursing session. I did hang on to my ID lanyard. It’s amazing what we choose to cling to when everything else changes around us.

I really should have paid more attention to where she sat. But the milk was my whole world, and it made my shrinking body thrill with delight. I was too distracted to notice my mother’s breathing quicken, then settle into a rhythm of panting and deep breaths that should have been familiar to any nurse who’s ever helped a woman through labor.

Did I mention that the milk was really distracting? I only realized what was in store for me when she finally pulled me away from her breast.

“There, that’s better. Now you’re ready to tuck away.” She said, lowering me between her spread legs and sliding my toes into her fully prepared birth canal.

That was when I realized that she’d been nursing me while going through labor on one of our birthing stools, and that I was about to be undelivered into her! I wailed and fought, but it was no use. My legs slid smoothly inside her, then my hips.

She stopped for a moment, finally prying that ID badge out of my tiny hand. “Don’t be silly, baby. You can’t take this with you, and I’ll need it to finish your shift.” She said as her contractions pulled me deeper inside her body. I watched in dismay as she hung the last vestige of my old life around her own neck.

“Bye now, baby. See you in a few months!” She said, offering me a cheerful wave. Then, riding the next contraction, she put a hand on my head, took a deep breath, and pushed me the rest of the way into herself.

Her body continued to squeeze all around me, forcing me through her cervix and into her womb, where I curled up into a tiny ball. Somewhere along the way, I’d become connected to her by an umbilical cord, which reassured me when my surroundings filled with liquid and breathing for myself became impossible.

Once the contractions of labor died away and her body settled down, I felt my mother stand up from the stool. I could feel her move about, and somehow knew she was getting dressed in my clothes. I kicked out at her in outrage, but she just laughed and kept dressing.

“Hmm, I see I’ll need to go shopping when our shift is over. But right now, we’ve got patients to see, don’t we baby? Don’t worry, you’ll be all settled in by the time we go home.” She said afterwards, and I could feel her start walking down the hallway of my ward.

I worried a little over what she meant by “settled in”, especially when her cramped womb started to grow bigger around me. I was still shrinking, and that made me flail about in panic. I must have hit her bladder, because the next thing I knew, I heard the sounds of a toilet being used. It’s really strange to hear someone pee when you’re inside her body and pressed up against her bladder. It’s even stranger when you realize that it’s essentially your own body that you’re listening to so closely, though worn by a different person.

After the sounds died down, mom stayed in the stall and talked to me reassuringly for a long while. Despite myself, I felt her words soothe me, though I was having more and more trouble understanding them. She said something about needing a place to hide in this world for a few generations, and a bunch of stuff I couldn’t make out. Then came a part I could hear clearly.

“So, I need to take over this life of yours, but I promise I’ll give you a good one in return, new daughter. And at least now your parents will stop nagging us about having kids. Well, they will once it’s time for you to grow back. I’ve got a few changes to make to this life of yours before I’m ready to raise you.”

Then she stood up and I heard the toilet flush one more time. I shrank a little more after that, but I wasn’t so afraid any more. I had no reason to do so, but I trusted my mother’s word that I wasn’t going to shrink away to nothingness. Now that I knew I’d rejoin the outside world again, the same way we all come into it, I could relax a little.

By the time we went to bed that night, I’d come to terms with my new position. I wasn’t happy about it, but there clearly wasn’t any point in fighting my new mother. And a womb is remarkably comfortable when you’re young enough to need one.

The comment about my parents was the turning point for me, I think. If you’ve never had an overly controlling family, you won’t understand, but the realization that I’d never again have to hear my mother pestering me for grandchildren filled me with relief. Instead, I’d be the granddaughter she’d dote on. I decided then that I could live with this change.

I’m not sure how long it’s been since that fateful shift. It’s really hard to keep track of time when you’re a tiny fetus inside your mother’s womb. I know it’s been long enough for mom to audition several people for the role of my second parent.

She’s finally picked someone, though I can’t tell whether they’re someone I knew before I ended up in here, or whether I’ll be meeting them for the first time in a few months. I know that she started by acting on the crushes I’d been afraid to do anything about, but I can’t tell who she’s sharing a bed with these days. I guess I’ll find out in a few months, or at least I assume that’s why I’m starting to grow again.

Surprisingly, I’m not upset with her for stealing my life, not anymore. I was at first, but the longer I spend in here, the less I care about that. She’s honestly doing a better job with my life than I had been, and I’m still going to get to be part of it. I will admit to looking forward to getting some payback by waking her up in the middle of the night to nurse in my first months after I’m reborn. And when I hit my teen years, she’d better watch out!