All for You
As soon as we step into the house Isabel jolts down the hall and runs straight into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Tossing my keys on the island countertop, I walk to the bathroom and rest my forehead on the closed door, wishing I knew what has her upset.
“Talk to me, Isabel.”
“Hunter, I can’t,” she pleads in a strained tearful voice that hurts my heart.
A wave of sheer dread and fear washes over me. I have to swallow with effort before I speak. “Baby, please. I need you to talk to me.”
“I can’t, Hunter. I can’t…” she trails off lost in her tears.
With a shaky hand, I reach for the knob and twist, but it’s locked. “Baby, let me in please. Whatever it is, I promise that we’ll get through this.” I bang my forehead against the door and squeeze my eyes shut. “Forever, Isabel.”
There’s a pause before she asks, “Forever, Hunter?”
“Forever, Isabel.”
With that said, she unlocks the door and opens it. My eyes dart to her jeans that are pooled around her ankles and up to her frighten eyes that leak, a small clear stream running down both her cheeks.
She looks down at her outreached hand she holds up to my face. My gaze drop down and I wish I hadn’t looked at all. Bright red stains her trembling fingers. Grabbing her hand, I wipe it clean on my coat and pull her in for a hug. She cries in my chest as I hold her.
“I’ve been bleeding since New York,” confesses quietly.
“We have to get you to the hospital.” My voice is hoarse, and very very weak.
“No,” she protests in a definite tone. “I’m terrified. I don’t want to go. I can’t go.” She inhales through her nose, sniffing. “What if I lost the babies…” she shudders violently.
“Don’t talk like that, Isabel. You’re fine. We’re fine. But we have to go the hospital. You’re bleeding and I won’t lose you because of this.”
“But I wanted the babies for you, Hunter. I wanted to be a mom for you. I wanted you to be a father. I wanted everything for you, Hunter. All of this was for you. You deserved to be a father. You deserve the best, Hunter. You deserve the world.”
“Give that then and let me take you to get checked out.”
She conceals her face in my coat, nodding. “Okay. For you.”
***
Isabel lies back on the examination table, the roll of crepe paper underneath her crackling with each anxious movement. She looks extremely defenseless and vulnerable in the pale blue exam gown. Feeling defeated, I hold her hand tight in mine while I stand at her side, prepared to hear the worst news of my life.
Dr. Marvin knocks on the door before entering. “I’ve heard you’ve been bleeding. Let’s take a look at the babies, lovely.” He sits on his rolling stool and puts on his gloves, then opens her gown, squeezing jelly on her small rounded tummy. He moves the scanner across the skin on her abdomen and the first thing we hear are the strong heartbeats that pulse loud and clear in our ears. The sound is one of relief. I can almost breathe again.
“Look at the screen here.” He points to the ultrasound picture moving. “Look at the babies. They are unharmed and developing normally for six months. Mommy’s just having a bit of spotting. I’m going to draw blood and run some tests to make sure. But you seem absolutely fine.”
“What if I lose them?” Isabel asks horrified.
Dr. Marvin shakes his head. “Listen, your body knows what to do. You were born to do this, Isabel. Trust that. There’s no need to worry about this process. In mid February you’re going to give birth to two wonderful babies. You can worry after they arrive. That’s what most mothers tend to do, anyway.”
“They’re healthy?” I ask, my voice cracking.
He nods. “Yes, they are doing well. Her blood pressure is good. I’m going to take some blood to be on the safe side.”
Thank Christ my family is okay.