To Wan A Babbeh
written by CoronaryHeatingProcedure
“HNnnnnn! Huuuuuhuuuu!”
Scribble pushed one more time and her final baby came into the world.
She was crying bitterly, these babies were not ready yet but her body would not listen to her plea to wait just a little bit longer.
The probability of any of them being alive was slim but she turned nonetheless, hoping beyond hope that somehow, they were alive.
“Pwease babbehs, chiwp fow mummah.”
Her hoovsies reached for them, desperately hugging them close to her body for warmth.
“M-mummah wub babbehs… pwease… nu weave mummah.” big tears streamed down her face, dripping on her unresponsive babbehs.
Her tongue lapped at their beautiful little snouts, clearing their nostrils and mouths of amniotic fluid so they could breath but none of them did.
The warmth they had was starting to fade away, taking Scribble’s hope of ever seeing them happily playing with the toys she had for them with it.
Heartbroken, she buried her face into them, her sobs racking her body.
She had tried so hard to be a good mother but she had failed them. She had failed all of them.
Her momma had bought her many forevers ago from a breeding mill advertising pretty patterns.
She had a few that looked like abstract flowers just like all of her siblings, her mom and her dad.
She remembered being crammed in an outdoor cage with many many fluffies, barely able to play.
Some of them looked strange, crusted eyes and runny noses. It stunk terribly of pee-pees and poopies. The litterbox never got new litter or a cleaning. She could hear begging and crying that no one responded to.
Then she was taken away, washed, crammed into a smaller cage in a metal monster with foals she had never seen before and then it was suddenly dark.
The foals around her screamed and cried for their parents to safe them. It was so loud, her voice faded into the crowd like a drop in the deep dark ocean.
Once they didn’t have any more energy in them, the monster stopped on gravel, the ticking of the turn signals audible.
Light cascaded in trough the opening trunk lid, revealing soft moonlight overshadowed by the orange tinged lights of the streets, two silhouettes talking to eachother.
“This one.” the woman pointed with her shaking hand, clearly distressed by the presence of the man beside her.
She could see emotion dripping from her eyes as she made her choice, not able to safe all of them.
“You’re a kind soul Miss. You won’t regret this.”
Scribble had everything she could have ever wanted.
A beautiful saferoom full of toys and space, plenty of food and water, regular sketti days and all of the huggs and kisses her momma could give.
She never ever demanded anything but she got it all the same.
Sometimes she felt bad for the other foals trapped in that cage. Did they ever find a homesie and someone who loved them as much as she loved her momma? She would never know.
Once she was old enough she was asked a simple yet life-changing question.
“Would you like to have babies Scribble?”
It was just a yes or no question but it sparked something inside her heart, a feeling of endless love and happiness that could never be put out again.
It didn’t take long at all to find people willing to stud their stallion to such a beautifully patterned mare for a foal or two and soon she had fallen pregnant.
Everything was fine at first but then it went horribly, horribly wrong.
As she was playing ‘stack blockies’ in her room, a sudden pain swept over her body making her cry out in surprise.
Somehow, she knew what it was immediately.
“BIGGEST POOPIES!”
“I’m so sorry sweetheart…”
Her momma tried to console the distraught mare, petting her back as she stared at her litter.
She had had three foals.
There was no fur, only flesh with a thin layer of skin, veins and organs partially visible.
They were so tiny.
“Babbehs…?”
She didn’t know how to react to the gruesome image before her eyes, shutting out reality.
As she drew closer, smelling the concoction of her and her partner’s scent mixed with the blood, a fear rooted deeply inside told her to stay away, but she fought against it.
No matter how appalling it all looked, they were her babies and she would love them no matter how they looked.
“H-hewwo babbehs… am mummah.”
“Scribble, sweety, they didn’t make it. It was too early.”
Her hoovsie made contact with them and as the cold crept up it, the sudden realization hit her like a slap in the face, her legs giving out.
The wails could be heard echoing off the walls until exhaustion set in in the late evening hours, her momma never letting go of her as she cried for her lost children.
“Wan twy gain mummah.”
The mare said, her voice mirroring her depressed state of mind.
It had been months since her miscarriage but it still came as a surprise to her parent.
“Are you sure, Scribble?”
The mare looked back at her solemnly, longing in her eyes.
“Pwease mummah, Scwibbw am weady.”
There was uncertainty flashing across her momma’s eyes but with a sigh and a nod she gave in.
Once again, many were interested in her unique markings, wishing to stud for a pretty foal.
This time around, the stallion seemed unsure, seeing the state Scribble was in but after a heart to heart, he obliged, only to give her a chance at being a mummah.
They waited days, weeks, nothing. Another stallion, more waiting, nothing. More and more and more.
Another one dismounted her, she begged for it to work, and finally after more sessions than she could count, she was pregnant again.
Finally she would have the foals she so desperately wished for.
“Su hurties! Babbehs pwease come ou! HuuUuuhhh…!”
“Come on Scribble! Push!”
“HnnNNNScREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”
“OH GOD!”
“EEEEEEEEEeeeehhhhh…huff…huff…babbeh?”
It was a huge baby, full term. She had expected the birth to be more painful but she couldn’t have imagined it being this bad.
In the middle of it, her first baby got stuck inside her special place and she had to push so intensely, she was sure it had ripped something on the way out.
Exhausted, with more babies to come, she looked back, regretting it instantly.
Her baby was a lime green color. It had two heads, sides fused with three eyes total, six legs, three wings and many deformities.
A stinging sensation met her eyes, no foal deserved to be born like that. She cradled it, licking it clean as it stirred and gasped for air.
Her momma was distraught, not knowing what to do but opting to help deliver the other foals.
There were four foals this time.
Besides her conjoined twins, there was one underdeveloped foal, one stillborn and another one that didn’t look anything like a foal.
She held her twins tightly, cooing to them, telling them how much she loved them. They tried to respond but only a wheezing sound escaped their mouths.
After 15 painful minutes, they exhaled shakily for the last and final time, convulsing for another minute before they succumbed to their condition.
Scribble was so heartbroken, she held them until the next day and her momma let her grieve undisturbed, holding a funeral the next day.
Each pregnancy ended in another failure and nothing Scribble and her momma did helped.
No kibble, no restrictions, vitamins or supplements helped her conceive healthy foals.
Frustrated, her momma took to research, looking trough the internet for any clues about Scribble’s heritage and other possible causes.
What she found made her wretch.
Not only were the living situations horrid but to get the patterns, they paired closely related fluffies together, causing more and more damage down the line.
Scribble and her foals were the ones to pay the price.
“Mummah pwease!”
“No Scribble! I’m sorry but we can’t go on like this! You mean a lot to me, I don’t want to risk your health.”
The whole thing had escalated into a full blown argument, leaving both parties in tears.
“Scwibbw knu mummah wub Scwibbw, Scwibbw wub mummah tu. Just hab su many heawt hurties! Scwibbw onwy wan’ twy one mowe timesie. Pwease mummah, Scwibbw du anetin’ tu hab babbehs.”
There was silence for a few heartbeats.
“Scribble?”
“Yus mummah?”
“Promise me this will be the last time you try to have babies.”
The mare looked deep into her eyes.
“Scwibbw pwomis.”
It grew increasingly more difficult to get people to accept to breed their stallions with Scribble.
Her fertility problems had made rounds in the forums and her momma had no choice but to make an appointment for artificial insemination.
Without the prospect of having to deliver bad news, they both were much more at ease.
Scribble enjoyed every single second of her pregnancy as much as she could, knowing it could be over in an instant.
Each day she would sing to her tummy babies and tell them stories from the story books her momma used to read to her as a filly.
Her belly grew bigger each day, the chances of success rising with it and then it was time.
“Biggest poopies!”
“PWEASE! PWEASE! PWEASE! PWEASE! PWEASE!”
Her momma was at work as the contractions started.
Scribble had been alone for a few of the births but she was very anxious about this one, being her last chance at motherhood.
It took longer than it should but she pushed trough, gasping for breath as her first baby exited her special place.
Then it stopped.
“Jus…haff… one…babbeh?”
She was so scared, scared to look back and find it malformed and dead like all her babies. Then there was a sound.
“Cheep!”
Her head snapped towards the chirpy in surprise.
“B-babbeh?”
“Chirp! Chirp! Chirp!”
She couldn’t believe her eyes.
It looked exactly like a newborn fluffy should, a light fuchsia coat with deep fuchsia markings, chirping for her love and attention and she obliged, tears of joy running down her face.
She remembered her momma talking about some games she loved to play in her spare time, a perfect name for her baby forming in her mind.
“Pixew! Mummah wub Pixew! Neba wet you get hurties. Hab su su many heawt happies you with mummah! Neba eba weab mummah!”
Finally, after years of pain and suffering, she had the child she had always wished for.
One she would protect and love until the day she died.