Page 69 of Because of Them

“You weren’t there.” I cut him off, not needing his pointless small talk or distractions. “I was so scared, and you weren’t there.”

He leaps off the chair to my side, kneeling down until his face can rest on the pillow beside mine. “I was, I’m sorry. They pushed me out of the way, I kept trying to get closer to you but I couldn’t. I followed you into that room, but then our first tiny baby was crying and they just handed him to me, like I was supposed to know what I was doing. And then … I don’t even know Audrey … it all happened so fast, his brother was born and you were bleeding and they made me leave.” Tears stream down his face, but I want to slap him.

I want to tell him that I know it was scary because I was there. Because I thought I was dying and I couldn’t tell him I loved him and I was never going to meet my babies.

“Audrey, I wanted to stay with you, but I couldn’t. Because you had the best team of doctors working to save your life and I couldn’t leave our boys to be by themselves.”

“Boys?”

He sniffs. Stretching a hand up, he uses his thumb to wipe away the tear that had threatened to spill from my eyes. His fingers lace into my hair and he pushes forward to kiss my forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “There was probably a better way for me to tell you that.”

I nuzzle into his hand. “What are their names?”

“I was waiting for you. It was … rough … for a little while. They couldn’t tell me if you were going to be okay, I think because they just didn’t know. Your placenta tore a hole through your uterus and the doctor struggled to control the bleeding. You lost a lot of blood. You were out for … I don’t know, I lost count of the hours. But all I could do was wait. With our tiny boys on my chest, I just waited for you to be okay.”

“I need to see them.”

“I know, you will. I’ll go and check on them soon. But you need to rest.”

“What about Maisie?”

“She’s with Callum, he said she can stay as long as we need. He’ll bring her in when you are ready.”

Realising that Michael has everything somehow under control my eyelids grow heavy and I have to force myself to keep them open. “Stay with me, a little longer. Before you go back.”

Michael kisses my head again, then leans down until his forehead rests against mine. His eyes are the colour of chocolate in the dim lighting of the room, but they twinkle with deep joy. “I’ll stay with you always. I love you.”

He doesn’t stay, because when I wake again, Michael is gone. Again. But the wound doesn’t cut so deep this time because I know, deep in my gut where my babies once lived, that he is with them.

The room is blurry as I open my eyes. The pain in my stomach is intense, but also somehow dull and I’m able to sit myself up the tiniest bit so I can sip at the water beside my bed. The first mouthful glides down, cooling the sore, dry edges of my throat. I refill the tiny plastic cup and have a second gulp, then a third. I push to sit up further, but the odd feeling between my legs is back. I hadn’t thought earlier, but I know now what it is and I want it gone.

As though she can somehow sense I’m awake, the same midwife from earlier slips into the room. “Audrey,” she all but sings my name.

“Are you Sarah?” I ask, remembering the name Michael mentioned earlier.

She gives a little curtsey, “I wouldn’t have blamed you for not remembering. How are you feeling?”

“Better, I want to go see them. I tried to sit up but …” I gesture at the catheter between my legs. The word sits like a lump in my stomach and it’s hard enough to think about it, let alone actually say it. If I do, I might vomit up the water I just drank.

Sarah tips on her heels and rushes to check my chart. She taps at the tablet, swiping through notes. Reaching under the cabinet, she pulls out the blood pressure machine.

“We’ll check this again. If it’s all good, the next step would be to remove that and see how you go sitting. If your blood pressure stays stable, I can take you across the hall. Sound good?”

In lieu of answering, I reach my hand across to her. She smiles as the cuff inflates, and hums a little when it deflates and she jots down the number.

“This is going to be a little uncomfortable, you ready?” Sarah moves to the end of the bed and when I give her the okay, she goes about removing the catheter. Uncomfortable is one way of describing it. Humiliating would be another good one. Butonce I’ve regained some composure a lightness begins to spread through the room. I’m ready.

She helps me spin my legs off the bed, moving slowly and pausing with each step. Once I’m seated, albeit awkwardly because of the numbing pain through my core, she checks my blood pressure again.

“Okay,” she says with a satisfied smile. “You ready to meet your boys? You’ve got three bloody beautiful ones down there.”

Three?My heart skips enough beats that if I was still connected to the heart monitor it would have sounded like a novelty horn.

Sarah giggles. “Well, two little boys and one stunner of a man.” She gasps and slaps a hand across her face. Her cheeks turn red as she tries to hide her embarrassment. “That’s incredibly unprofessional of me, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, you should see him without the shirt on.” The memory chips away at the walls that had built around my heart.

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