by Aria Grace
Jude tells me every day that I’m just as sexy as ever, but he has to be lying as well. My fat stomach is only accentuated by my swollen cankles, and I feel like Shamu.
At the refrigerated section of the store, I pretend to gaze upon the different brands of cheeses when I’m actually just absorbing the cool air. I now run at about two hundred degrees and can never cool down. When a line starts to form behind me, I grab a package of shredded mozzarella hanging from one of the hooks and then glance around for a container of ricotta. Of course, the package I need is on a top shelf so I have to stretch on my tiptoes to reach for it. Just as my fingers close on the plastic tub, my body locks up in a sharp and quick pain.
A small gasp escapes my throat as I try to assess what hurts. My frown catches the attention of a woman nearby and she stops to check on me. “Are you okay?”
“I think so,” I reply as the pain subsides. “I’m not sure what happened.”
Her eyes soften as she looks at my stomach. “How far along are you?”
“Almost eight months.”
“Oh.” Her embarrassed look is one I’m not unfamiliar with at this point. She obviously thought I was further along.
“It’s okay. I’ve gained a ton of weight.” I smile, letting her know I’m not offended by her comment.
“I’ve been there.” She shrugs. “What can you do, right?”
I laugh with her. “Not eat?” I say sarcastically.
“Yeah, but that’s the best part of being pregnant. You get the excuse.”
“True.” I’m finally feeling well enough to attempt another grab at the ricotta, pleased to reach it without incident.
“Well, just be sure to take care of yourself and that little one. Trust me…this is the easy part.” She gives me a wink and says goodbye, turning back to her buggy and strolling away.
Placing my newly acquired purchase in my own buggy, I turn down the next aisle to grab the remaining items I need. I swing by the bakery, picking up a fresh loaf of bread to top with a delicious garlic-butter sauce. Somehow, I’ve only managed to spend thirty minutes in the store and am able to get home quickly enough to get the oven pre-heating and several bowls out to begin mixing ingredients.
By the time my sauce is heated on the stove, the oven has beeped, letting me know that it’s at the right temperature, and I have my cheese filling ready to spread. I layer the ingredients into a glass pan and fill it to the top. Since I don’t want to deal with the mess of having the cheese bubble over, I decide to be cautious, placing a huge sheet of foil on the bottom rack of the oven to catch any spillage.
After setting the oven’s timer for sixty minutes, I start peeling some apples to make an apple pie for dessert. The pre-rolled pie crust was too tempting to resist since we already had apples and sugar at home. It was a good choice because I wouldn’t feel right serving Jude’s favorite dinner without his favorite dessert.
Making quick work of the apples, I set them aside along with some pre-measured sugar and spices. The lasagna still has forty minutes to go and Jude should be home within the hour. Looking down at myself, I can feel my body screaming for a shower. There’s enough time before Jude gets home, so I decide to give in to what my body wants.
The warm cascade of water flowing down my back is well received as I wash the day away. I’m excited for the romantic dinner I have planned for my mate…
My mate.
I never thought I would be saying those words about anyone until I was older. But he’s exactly what I want. I caress my baby bump, or more like baby mountain, and talk sweetly to my growing baby.
“You’ve made Daddy a very happy man. You know that?” I rub the body wash I’ve piled into my hands over my belly and wait for a kick in response, but nothing comes. Of course, the baby is sleeping while I’m up. Later tonight, when I’m trying to rest, that’ll be time to play bouncy house against my bladder and lungs.
I rinse off and hop out of the shower. As much as I’d love to dress up for Jude, I simply can’t find the energy to put on a nice shirt and pants. I settle for a pair of shorts and one of Jude’s T-shirts, which is about the only thing I can fit into lately.
Looking at myself in the bedroom mirror, I shrug at the frumpy look I’m sporting. I guess tonight will be a true test of whether or not Jude loves the inner me. Because the outer me looks like a crack whore on a dirty street corner. I comb my hair with my fingers and then head back to the kitchen with ten minutes still left on the timer.
I blend the spices for the pie and get everything into the crust, ready for me to place it in the oven once the lasagna is finished. I’m just about to start making the butter sauce for my garlic bread when the timer goes off. Opening the oven door, the delicious aroma of seasoned tomatoes and cheese come wafting out. I inhale deeply, feeling a jump in my stomach.
“Oh…so, now that you know there’s food, you want to wake up. I see how it is.” I laugh gently as I place the hot lasagna pan on the stovetop to cool while I pop the pie pan into the oven and turn up the temperature. Returning to the butter I’ve laid out on the counter, I put it into a small saucepan and set the burner to low, letting it melt slowly as I add in some garlic seasoning.
With the lasagna cooling and my sauce on low, I grab a couple plates from the cabinet and set them on the dining room table. Wishing I had some candles for the table, I check the closet for a set. Coming up empty, I mentally scold myself for not thinking of grabbing some from the market. Although, considering what I’m wearing, tonight wasn’t meant to be romantic anyway.
Back in the kitchen, I grab the loaf of bread and slice it down the center then pour the buttery concoction across both sides. Once they’ve absorbed the golden liquid, I place the two halves back together and wrap the bread in foil before tucking it beside the pie in the oven.
I almost have everything ready. The new aroma of baking apples mixes with the fresh scent of Italian seasonings. The two together should be completely disgusting, but another kick in my belly confirms the baby agrees that it smells delicious. As I step over toward the counter to grab utensils for our place settings, a sharp pain races up my body.
“Umph!” I place one hand on my stomach and reach out to grab the countertop. Just as my hand is about to hit the surface, another pain shoots up my spine and across my abdomen, sending me into a panicked twist. My body turns and my back slams against the counter edge. Both hands fly to my stomach instinctively as something warm winds its way down my leg. A trail of scarlet sends my senses into overdrive.
Panicked, I try to move over to the table where I left my phone next to one of the cookbooks I was using. Another sharp pain pulls against my will, sending me crashing to the floor. I don’t know what’s happening, but the world is spinning around me as I try desperately to claw for the table. It’s just inches away from my fingertips but it might as well be a mile.
My hand stretches as far as it can only to come up short and fall to the ground in defeat. The final pain I remember shoots out from my spine to every extremity as I double over and feel a new flood of warmth spill from my legs onto the kitchen floor.
Then the world goes black.
46
Jude
The smells that greet me have me salivating after a long day at work. “Baby, I’m home!”
Surprisingly, there’s no response. Assuming Andy must be in the back, I set my satchel on the chair in the den then head to the bedroom.
“Baby?” The room is empty and the bathroom light is off. Maybe he just didn’t hear me in the kitchen. I move back through the hall and toward the kitchen. The scene in front of me couldn’t be any closer to a horror movie if I’d tried to imagine one.
Andy is lying on the floor in a pool of liquid that appears to be watery blood. I’m not sure what’s in the oven, but the scent from earlier now smells burnt. I flip off the oven and kneel on the floor, trying to wake Andy.
“Andy? Baby?” I check his neck for a pulse, which is faint but there. Oh, god. What’s happe
ned? Pulling my phone from my pocket, I quickly dial 9-1-1.
“9-1-1. What is your emergency?”
“Please, I need help. My mate is passed out on the floor in a pool of blood.”
“Sir, what is your name and address?”
I rattle it off quickly before adding the most important information they need. “He’s pregnant. God, I hope he’s still pregnant.”
“Sir.” The female voice on the phone remains calm but that does nothing to settle my nerves. “I need you to tell me if he’s breathing.”
“Yes, he is. What do I do? There’s so much blood.”
“We’ve dispatched an emergency crew to your location. You said he’s pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“How far along is he?”
I’m trying to think, but everything is hazy as I try to focus on Andy. “Seven months.”
“Okay, I want you to take a look between his thighs and tell me what you see.”
I pull gently at Andy’s shorts, grateful he isn’t wearing anything more difficult to remove. “Oh, god… I think I can see the baby’s head.”
“That’s okay. We’ve got help on the way. But I need you to help me, okay. What’s your name, sir?”
“Um, Jude. I’m Jude.”
“Okay, Jude? Can you help me?” Her soothing voice helps me focus.
“Yes. I… I hope so.”
“I need you to lay him on his back so that you can get to the baby’s head.”
Turning Andy from his side to his back, I spread his legs apart. I grab a towel hanging from the oven door and throw it over the fluids between his legs. “I’ve got him on his back.”
“Great. That’s good, Jude. Now I want you to slip your fingers inside and feel around the baby’s neck. We want to make sure the umbilical cord isn’t wrapped around the throat.”
“How can I… The baby’s head… I can only see the top.”
“Jude, I need you to reach into his opening and feel around the baby. Put the phone on speaker and set it where you can hear me, okay?”
I do as she asks, hitting the speaker button on my phone and setting it on the counter near my head. Moving gingerly, I slip my fingertips past the baby’s head and into Andy. Feeling around the throat is surreal, and thankfully, nothing feels as if it’s obstructing the neck. “I don’t feel anything.”
“That’s good. Okay, Jude, we’re going to get the baby free of your mate.”
“But it’s not time. It’s too soon.”
“Jude, we’ve got to help your mate. What’s his name?”
“Andy… He’s my Andy.”
“Responders are just a few minutes out. But we need to get the baby out of Andy. It’s going to be in distress and getting the baby out will help the strain on Andy’s body as well.”
“I’m not sure I can do this.”
“Jude, you can. I know you can. We’re going to move quickly, okay? Since Andy’s unconscious, we have to do the work for him.”
“Okay… What do I do?”
“Carefully, you need to start loosening the opening and gently try to extract the baby from the birth canal.”
Trying to follow her instructions, I place my hands around the baby’s shoulders, careful not to put undue stress on the head or throat. Shockingly, the baby begins to emerge. I pull it out slowly, scared that I’ll be too rough and injure it further. But the baby comes out gently in my arms. “I’ve got it. But it’s not crying.”
“Good job, Jude. Now, stick your finger in the baby’s mouth and make sure nothing is obstructing the airway.”
I pull some muck out, and within seconds, my baby begins to wail in my arms. It’s the greatest sound I’ve ever heard.
“Hang in there, Andy,” I say to his unconscious form while I pull off my shirt and wrap our baby boy in it. Just then, a knock sounds on the front door. “Help! I’m in here.”
I hear the click of the door as several footsteps make their way toward me. “Hello?”
“Please, I’m in the kitchen. I need help.” Two seconds later, a group of men and women step into the kitchen. A female first responder moves in next to me.
“You did great, Dad.” She pulls the baby from my arms and lays him on the table, doing a quick inventory of his body and heart rate. “He looks perfect, but we’ll take him in for an exam just to be sure.”
Two men are next to Andy. “I have a heartbeat,” one of the men says aloud. “Let’s get him out of here.” He presses a button on the radio attached at his shoulder. “Bring up a gurney.”
It’s not long before another set of responders come in with a rolling gurney. They lower it to the ground and the four surrounding Andy lift him up and place him on the bed. Then, they begin rolling him toward the front door. The woman holding my son follows behind the gurney. I grab my phone and run into the den after them.
I follow my family into the awaiting ambulance and hop inside just as they close the doors and speed toward the emergency room. My heart is beating faster than I can ever remember it beating before. When we pull up to the emergency room entrance, a flood of doctors and nurses greet us as they take over for the EMTs as the responders explain the situation.
A nurse grabs my arm. “Are you the father?”
“Yes.”
“Please, come with me. We need some information.” She pulls me over to a customer service desk where a young man hands me a clipboard with papers attached.
“Can you please complete these for me?”
I nod almost as if in a trance and take the papers from him.
“You can have a seat over there. Just let me know when you’re finished.” He points toward a large waiting area where several people are already sitting. Some look as though they’re in pain while others are crying, obviously distraught by whatever situation they’re going through.
I take a seat and try to focus on the papers in front of me. It’s not until I see the dried blood coating my hands that the emotional toll on my body and soul floods my senses, and I begin to weep.
I weep at the thought of losing my mate.
I weep at the prospect of raising our beautiful baby alone.
And most of all, I weep at loss of a life I’ve already come to cherish.
Unsure of what to do next, I pull out my phone and text Matt, letting him know what’s happened and that we’re at the ER.
Not a minute passes before he responds. On my way.
Thank god for him, because I don’t know if I can do this without someone at my side. I’m supposed to be the big, strong alpha who takes care of my own, but without Andy, I’m nothing. I’m at a loss as to how to function without knowing he’s going to be okay.
When Matt arrives, he pulls me into a hug. “I’m so sorry this is happening. Do you know anything yet?”
I shake my head, tears streaming down my face. “I can’t even fill this out,” I say, showing him the clipboard full of papers.
“We’ll get it done. Don’t worry.” Matt takes the stack from me and helps me work through the information. When we finish, he takes the clipboard back to the man at the desk then sits silently next to me.
“The guy at the desk said he doesn’t know anything, but the doctors will come out when they have some information.”
“Thank you.” My voice is weak, but Matt hears me and nods.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Time ticks by slowly as we wait to hear something…anything. But nothing comes. My heart is in my throat, constricting tighter with each second that passes.
I’m not sure how much time has actually passed when someone finally calls my name. “Mr. Taylor?”
Jumping up from my seat, I step over to the woman at the doorway. “I’m Jude Taylor.”
“Mr. Taylor, I’m Gwen Stevens, the prenatal doctor helping your son.”
“Is he okay?” Tears threaten to spill again as I await to hear how my baby is doing.
“He’s stable right now, but we have a long road ahead of us. As you know
, he’s several weeks premature. We’ll maintain a close eye on his vitals. The next few weeks will be critical.”
“Thank you.” Relief sweeps through me as I realize he’s okay.
“You’re welcome. But prepare yourself. We aren’t out of the woods yet.”
Matt places an arm around my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Any word on Andy?”
“I’ll find someone on his detail to come and give you an update.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Matt says, guiding me back to our chairs.
Another hour passes before my name is called again. “That’s me.” I try to stand, but the man waves at me to stay seated.
“No, please. Stay there.”
This can’t be good.
“I’m Dr. Marks, one of the surgeons assisting on Andy’s case. I’m sorry you’ve had to wait out here for so long without any news.”
My stomach sinks again as I prepare for the worst.
“Andy suffered from preeclampsia. We also found bruising on his back and side, which we believe occurred during his fall.”
“Is the preeclampsia what’s taking so long to fix?”
“Unfortunately, when Andy fell, he ruptured his spleen. We had to go in and do emergency surgery. He lost a lot of blood, so we’re lucky you called for help when you did.”
“But he’ll be alright?” Thank god Matt is able to ask the questions I can’t seem to formulate with the barrage of information coming at me. “When can Jude see him?”
“Andy should be just fine. We’ve replenished his blood supply and the other surgeons are closing him up now. He’ll need an hour or so of recovery before we move him to a room.”
“Thank you.” Tears pour down my cheeks as I finally feel like I can breathe again.
* * *
“Mr. Taylor?” A young female nurse stands in front of the waiting area, calling me.
Matt and I get up and walk toward her, wondering what new news she’s bringing.