When a second, squeezing pain hits, the whooshing in my ears travel to my eyes and everything goes black.
“She’s going into shock. We’re losing too much blood!”
“She’s not going to make it! Bring me a bag of blood!”
Nausea keeps me in a constant discomfort as my body temperature drops. I feel like I’m constantly trembling on the inside even though I doubt I’m moving even an inch on the outside.
“We need blood now! We’re losing her!”
I hear the machine next to me beep erratically as it goes haywire moments before I pass out a second time.
Next time I come around, it’s to silence. No more strangers yelling above me. No more disturbingly bright lights shining on me.
It is quiet, and dark, at least from what I can tell.
The occasional beep is the only indicator I’m still in the hospital.
I test my muscles and let out a little breath of relief when I can feel my fingers move. I’m not exactly sure what’s happened, but I can already tell something.
There is no baby in my stomach.
I crack my eyes open and look down at my flat stomach. No longer is there a boulder in its place. Now a blanket lay against me and I can once again see my toes.
I lift my hand and run it down my belly hissing through my breath once I hit a tender spot.
That’s right, I was stabbed.
Randall.
Bits and pieces start floating back into my mind, but it’s still foggy.
“You’re awake.” My head snaps over to the window and there sits Rose in a chair, and a bundle of blankets wrapped in her arms.
Is that…?
I swallow the worry and fear that’s making its way up my throat and croak, “What happened?”
She stands up gently and walks over to me. “It’s been quite a couple days.” She looks down at the bundle in her arms, a softness in her gaze I’ve never seen before. My chest quakes with emotion. If Rose looks like this with the baby in her arms, I can’t imagine how I’ll be.
I already feel completely out of sorts.
“Couple days?” I whisper.
Rose nods.
“Tell me.” I demand, voice stronger. My head is still hazy, and I feel like I’m missing some huge details from the last couple days.
“When you came here, you lost a lot of blood. They brought you to have a c-section and then the baby swallowed meconium and his lung collapsed. Thankfully, they were able to stabilize him quickly. He finally got off his meds and machines early this morning. He’s doing great.”
“Can I… can I see him?” I whisper, my hand going to my throat. It hurts from what I went through, but emotion is clogging it like never before. It feels like it’s getting smaller by the minute, and any second I’m going to lose my breath. My eyes fill with overwhelming joy and my heart races with a panic that I didn’t know I would feel when it comes to my baby.
“Of course.” She leans over, and I see the most perfect face. Chubby cheeks surround the most adorable pink lips. Smooth, creamy skin goes in contract with the little bit of dark, wavy hair covering his head. I can’t help by lean and brush my nose across his forehead, taking a heady whiff of the perfect baby scent.
Is this how a mom feels once their baby is born? A mix of panic and adoration?
Once Rose settles him into my arms, tears spring to my eyes. I can’t help the need to hold onto this little bundle and never let him go.
And that’s when I realize I can’t let him go. I won’t.
I look at Rose with tears streaming down my face and hope in my eyes.
“Rose…”
She stares at me, and she immediately knows what I’m thinking because all she does is lean over and bury her face in the bed as she breaks down into a sob. “Oh, thank God.” We both cry as we come to terms with the fact that our lives are going to be completely different now. Mine will, for sure. It’s no longer going to be just me. It’s going to be me and my little guy.
“I’m scared.” I admit with blurry eyes, because I am. I’m terrified of screwing this up and a part of me still thinks this is a bad idea. The thought of this baby leaving my arms makes a terrorizing pressure build in my chest.
Rose lifts her face off the bed, red and blotchy, but