Don't Die This Time

Continued December 25th; 2025Taylor Swift's Point of ViewThe pain comes in waves, each one crashing over me harder than the last. I grit my teeth and clutch the bedrails so tightly my knuckles turn white. I can't escape it. Every inch of my body feels like it's being stretched and pulled apart, and I'm starting to lose focus. My breaths are ragged, each one coming out in sharp gasps as I try to brace myself for the next wave of pain.

"God, it hurts! This hurts so much!" I cry out, my voice cracking as I fight to keep myself together.

Travis is right beside me, looking frantic but trying to stay calm for my sake. His hand brushes over mine, a soft gesture in a moment of chaos. "Do you need a distraction? I can talk to you," he offers, his voice steady, though I can tell he's anything but calm.

"Sure, whatever," I say through gritted teeth, trying to push through the pain but feeling like I'm losing control. Anything, at this point, to make it feel like I'm not the only one suffering.

He seems to take that as permission, and I can hear the nerves in his voice as he tries to tell me a story. "So, the other day I was doing a stunt and nailed it. Absolutely flawless. Didn't hurt myself at all. Then, two minutes later, I stubbed my toe on a rock. It hurt so bad I thought I was going to die just a little bit. Ironic, right? Doing a stunt, then stubbing my toe?"

I blink at him, too exhausted and too overwhelmed by the pain to fully process what he's saying at first. And then it hits me—the absurdity of what he's trying to distract me with. A stunt? And then a stubbed toe? He's actually trying to make me laugh right now.

I open my mouth to say something, anything, but another contraction hits, slamming into me with a force I wasn't ready for. I gasp, my breath catching, and I grip the bedrails even harder, my entire body tensing. My thoughts scatter, and all I can do is focus on breathing through the pain.

"Travis," I manage to rasp, my voice sharp, "Really? You're comparing stubbing your toe to this?" I don't know if I want to laugh or cry. I can feel tears stinging at the back of my eyes, but I push them down, focusing on not losing my mind.

Travis's face falls, and I can see the guilt washing over him. He stammers, his words stumbling over each other as he tries to fix it. "No, no, I didn't mean—of course, this is way worse! I just thought maybe... I thought maybe it would make you laugh. You know, distract you from the pain."

I turn my head to look at him, exasperated but oddly comforted by his desperation. "Travis..." I say softly, though I'm still holding back the flood of emotions that I feel in this moment. "Just... just be here. That's all I need right now."

He nods quickly, looking relieved to hear that, though I can see the frustration in his eyes. He's trying so hard to help, but he's just... struggling to keep up with the reality of this. I can see that, and for a second, I feel guilty for snapping at him, but I can't help it.

Another contraction hits, and I tense, but this time, I don't feel as alone in it. His hand is still holding mine, and even though he might be fumbling in every other way, in this moment, that's all I need from him. His presence. His touch.

I close my eyes, breathing through the pain as best I can, grateful, in a strange way, for the absurdity of the moment. Even though it feels like my world is falling apart, Travis's ridiculous attempt to distract me has somehow made it a little bit more bearable.

The pressure builds again, and I can feel my body tightening with each passing second. I'm doing everything I can to breathe through the pain, but it's not enough. I'm starting to lose my grip on what little control I had left.

"Can't they just like, push down on my stomach to get him out or something?" I ask, half-laughing at the absurdity of the idea, but the reality is, I'm desperate for anything to make this easier.

Travis's face falls a little, the same nervous energy filling his eyes. "No, unfortunately, but you're—"

"I'm doing great, I know," I interrupt, forcing a weak smile as another contraction strikes. It's all I can do to get through it. I groan in pain, biting my lip to keep from screaming, clutching onto the bedrails as my body tenses again.

Travis watches me, helpless, his hand still gripping mine. He's trying so hard to reassure me, but I can tell he's starting to feel the weight of everything too. "You are doing great, babe. You're amazing," he says, his voice wavering slightly, but he's doing his best.

I try to focus on his voice, the way his hand is still in mine, but the pain is swallowing me whole. Every second feels like a lifetime. I know he's here, and that's all I can cling to in this moment, but I can't help the frustration rising in me. I want it to be over. I want to meet our baby already.

With a deep breath, I manage to squeeze his hand a little tighter, trying to ground myself in his presence. "Just... just don't let go of me," I say, my voice trembling.

"I'm not going anywhere," he promises, his grip firm.

The words slip out before I can stop them, my frustration and exhaustion pouring out in one harsh breath. "Oh my god, I hate you so much. Six to seven kids, my ass."

I can feel the heat of anger and pain mingling in my chest as I try to breathe through the contraction, my hands gripping the bedrails so tightly my fingers ache. I can't help it. The sheer overwhelmingness of it all makes me lash out, and right now, Travis is the closest target.

Travis, wide-eyed and looking like he's been hit with a ton of bricks, stumbles back a step, but he quickly recovers and leans in close, trying to soften the blow. "Hey, hey, I know you're in pain. I'm not going to hold that against you," he says, his voice gentle but clearly shaken by my words. "But we did agree on this... Well, you agreed," he adds with a small, nervous laugh, trying to break the tension.

I don't laugh. I can't. Every part of me aches, and I'm just so done.

"God, it hurts," I mutter under my breath, squeezing my eyes shut as another wave of pain crashes through me. I try to focus on my breathing, but the frustration won't let go. I let out a shaky breath, my heart pounding in my chest. "I swear, I'm never doing this again."

"I get it, I get it," he says quickly, rubbing my hand soothingly. "This is hell. We'll talk about it later, I promise."

I wish I could believe him, but right now, all I can think about is the pain.

The words come out sharp, full of exhaustion and sheer frustration. I can barely catch my breath as the pain rips through me again, but I find myself letting it all spill out. "It's my body, Travis, and I decide—no more! No more babies will be renting out this uterus!"

I'm shaking, not just from the pain but from the raw, overwhelming emotion of it all. I can feel the heat of my words as they hang in the air between us, cutting through the tension in the room. The truth is, I'm terrified. I'm terrified of the pain, terrified of the unknown. But mostly, I'm tired. So tired.

Travis flinches, and for a moment, I see a flicker of guilt and concern in his eyes. He doesn't respond right away. His hand remains on mine, gentle and steady, though I can feel the tension in his grip.

"I'm sorry," he finally says, his voice softer now, laced with sincerity. "I know this is harder than we ever expected. But I'm here with you, okay? No matter what."

But it's not about him right now. It's not about what we agreed on or how many kids we wanted. It's just about getting through this, surviving the pain, and knowing that I'm doing this alone in ways I didn't expect.

"I don't care about the future right now," I mutter, barely able to keep my eyes open as the next contraction builds. "I just want this to be over."

"I know," he says, his voice thick with empathy. "I know, babe. You're doing amazing. Just a little longer. Just a little longer, and we'll meet our baby."

I clench my jaw and try to breathe through it, but the idea of more babies, of this happening again, is the last thing I can handle right now.

The room is quiet for a moment, just the sound of my heavy breathing filling the air, until the door opens. A soft knock precedes it, and the doctor steps in, her calm presence immediately soothing amidst the chaos of everything else.

"Hey, Taylor. How are we feeling?" she asks, her voice gentle, though I know she's prepared for anything by now.

I can barely answer through my heavy breaths, but I manage a strained, "It's... awful."

The doctor smiles kindly, glancing at Travis before turning back to me. "I'm going to check you now, okay? Let's see how things are progressing."

I try to stay still, but the pressure is relentless, squeezing in on me with each wave of pain. I grip the bedrails again, my knuckles white, and Travis's hand is right there, his fingers tightening around mine.

"Don't worry," the doctor reassures me, setting everything in place. "We're getting closer. Just try to breathe and relax if you can."

I barely nod, focusing on the sensation of the contraction, breathing in as deeply as I can manage. The doctor checks, her brow furrowing slightly as she monitors the situation.

The doctor steps back, giving me a moment to catch my breath before she looks back at the chart. "Alright, Taylor, you're at 10 centimeters. It's time."

I almost can't believe it. After everything, the pain, the waiting, it's finally time. The moment I've been dreading and anticipating all at once. My body is exhausted, every muscle aching, but the thought of meeting our baby pushes me forward. I glance at Travis, who's leaning over the bed, his face etched with concern but also determination.

"You ready, babe?" he asks, his voice shaky, but there's a warmth in it I recognize. He's trying to hold it together, for me, for Zoë, for our baby.

"I don't know if I'm ready, but I don't think I have a choice," I say, my voice tight with the mix of pain and anticipation. I feel like I've been on this edge for hours, and now I'm finally being told it's time to cross.

The doctor steps forward again, ready to guide me through the final stage. "Alright, Taylor, I need you to push when you're ready. Remember to breathe and use all that strength you've got. We're going to meet your baby, and it's going to be okay."

I squeeze Travis's hand tighter, the familiar grip of his fingers reminding me that I'm not alone. The first push is the hardest, a wave of pain crashing over me as I bear down. My body feels like it's splitting in half, but I grit my teeth and push through it, taking deep breaths in between. Travis leans in, wiping sweat from my forehead, whispering words of encouragement.

"I'm going to throw you out the window, Travis, for doing this to me!" I scream, my voice raw with pain and frustration.

He looks at me wide-eyed, his hands helplessly hovering in the air. "Hey, it takes two to tango," he defends, trying to lighten the mood, but I can see the tension in his face. He's just as nervous as I am, but in this moment, I can't stand him being calm when I feel like I'm being ripped apart.

I turn my head to give him a death glare, my breath coming in ragged gasps. "Oh right, not the time," he says.

He raises his hands in surrender, and for a split second, I see his lips quiver in a faint, nervous smile. But then the doctor's voice cuts through the tension in the room.

"Okay, Taylor, on the next contraction, I need you to push."

I nod through clenched teeth, tears blurring my vision as the pain surges again. I feel like every part of my body is on fire, every muscle stretched to its breaking point. I'm exhausted. I've been at this for hours, the pain relentless and unforgiving. My hands grip the bed rails so tightly my knuckles are white, and I bear down with everything in me, screaming as I push.

But it's not enough.

"I can't do this!" I wail, the pressure too much. I collapse back onto the bed, my whole body trembling, shaking with sobs that wrack through me like a storm. "It hurts too much! I can't... I just can't!"

Travis is there in an instant, his hand sliding under mine, trying to offer comfort, but I can barely register it through the waves of pain crashing over me. I feel his eyes on me, full of concern, but also full of love, and I know he's trying to stay strong for me. He squeezes my hand tighter.

"Yes, you can, Taylor," he says, his voice gentle but firm. "You've got this. You're doing great. Just a little more."

But all I can feel is the overwhelming, crushing weight of the pain, and the fear that I'm not strong enough to do this. The fear that I might break before I get to the end of this.

I shake my head, gasping for air between sobs. "I can't! I can't keep going!"

The doctor steps closer, her voice calm and steady as she tries to guide me. "Taylor, I know it's hard, but you're almost there. You're in transition, which is the hardest part. But you're so close. You can do this. Just one more push, okay? One more and we'll meet your baby."

But I can't hear her. The words get lost in the haze of pain that fills my mind, and I close my eyes, trying to block it out, to find a way to hold on.

And then I feel Travis's hand on my cheek, his touch grounding me. "We're in this together, Taylor. You're not alone. I'm right here. You can do this. I know you can."

I open my eyes to meet his, seeing the raw love and determination in his gaze. For a moment, I just focus on him, on his words, on the love that's been carrying us through this whole experience. I don't want to let him down, and I don't want to let myself down either.

I take a shaky breath, and as another contraction hits, I gather every last bit of strength I have left. "Okay... Okay," I whisper to myself. "I can do this. I can do this."

I grip the bedrails once more, bracing myself for the next wave. "Just one more push," I tell myself.

And this time, I push with everything I've got. It's relentless. The pain is white-hot, like fire coursing through me. I feel like I'm being torn apart, every muscle in my body straining past its limits. My screams fill the room, raw and guttural, but I don't stop. I can't stop. I dig into every ounce of strength I have left, refusing to give up, until—finally—the pressure releases in an overwhelming wave.

The pain doesn't vanish completely, but it shifts, giving way to relief so profound it nearly takes my breath away. I collapse back against the pillows, my chest heaving as I gasp for air, my vision blurry with tears.

"You did it." Travis's voice breaks through the fog, soft and full of awe. His hand brushes my hair back from my damp forehead, and when I manage to focus on him, I see tears streaking down his face too.

Before I can say anything, the doctors place a small, squirming bundle on my chest.

The weight of him against me, his warmth seeping through, it feels unreal. The nurses rub him gently with rags, clearing his skin and encouraging him to cry, but I can't take my eyes off him. His skin is flushed and slick, and he lets out the loudest, most piercing cry I've ever heard. But it's perfect. It's absolutely perfect.

My hands tremble as I cradle him closer, the reality of the moment hitting me like a tidal wave. This is him. This is the little life I've been carrying all these months. This is my son.

"He's here," I whisper, my voice breaking as a sob escapes me. "He's really here."

Travis leans in, his hand brushing over the baby's head with the gentlest touch. His fingers tremble too, and his voice is thick with emotion as he whispers, "He's perfect, Taylor. You did so good. So, so good."

His tiny fists flail in the air, his face scrunching up as he lets out another wail. I glance up at him, tears streaming down my face, and see the love and pride shining in his eyes. In this moment, everything—the pain, the exhaustion, the chaos—fades away, leaving only the three of us in this little bubble of pure, overwhelming love.

"Shhh, it's okay, baby. Mommy's here." My voice is soft but shaky as I cradle him, holding him as close to my chest as I can. His cries pierce the room, raw and desperate, but I can feel the warmth of his tiny body pressing against me, grounding me in the moment.

His little fists flail for a moment before settling against my skin, and I instinctively begin to sway, even though I'm lying down. My hands tremble as I rub soothing circles over his back, my fingers memorizing every detail of him—the way his damp hair curls against his head, the tiny wrinkles on his fingers, and the sheer newness of him.

"It's okay, sweetheart," I whisper, my tears dripping onto his blanket as I kiss the top of his head. "Mommy's here. You're safe now."

Travis leans closer, his hand joining mine on our baby's back, and I feel his forehead press against mine. "He knows your voice," Travis says softly, awe lacing his words. "Look at him. He's already calming down."

The baby's cries begin to quiet, his tiny body still shuddering with the effort of it all. But then, as I hum a soft lullaby, his head tilts slightly, and his cheek rests against my chest. His breathing starts to even out, and I can feel his heartbeat—a steady, fragile rhythm that matches my own.

"I love you so much," I whisper, my voice breaking as tears spill freely down my cheeks. "Both of you."

Travis leans in, pressing a kiss to my temple as his hand rests gently over mine, steadying me. "Merry Christmas," he murmurs, his voice warm and full of emotion.

I smile through my tears, glancing down at the tiny bundle in my arms. "Merry Christmas. You're the best present we could have gotten, Daniel."

Travis chuckles softly, his lips quirking into a smirk. "I don't know. I really liked that watch you got me."

I let out a watery laugh, rolling my eyes. "Of course you did. Priorities, right?"

"Hey, don't act like you don't love your bracelet," he teases, his grin widening.

I glance at him, shaking my head as a warm laugh escapes me. "Okay, fine. But I think this little guy beats all of it."

Travis looks down at Daniel, his expression softening as he strokes a finger over the baby's cheek. "Yeah. He wins. Hands down."

Daniel Zachary Swift-KelceBorn December 25th 2025 5:38pm8 lbs 7 oz (3.8kg)20.5 in (52 cm)

Mother: Taylor Alison SwiftFather: Travis Micheal Kelce

—————Author's Note:

UPTOWN GURL -Braeden from when I wrote this chapter like two weeks ago and yes current Braeden is confused why I wrote this

My cat died so like...I won't be updating as often. I just need a hot minute. He was my best friend. The actual like light of my life.