#Chapter 129 Bedrest
Rachel POV
"Did you see Art? He knows sothing. Patrick slipped. Whatever secret he’s keeping about my mother? He slipped."
I wiped at my eyes frantically, desperate to push the hateful tears away so I could see more clearly.
"I saw Windsor, sure, but how do we know Patrick didn’t? He could be playing all of us."
"He was serious, Tyler. He believed the Code Blue."
Nathan nodded along with , "I agree. Patrick bought it. He’s definitely given enough away for Windsor to feel it was worth the risk."
Standing, I stepped around Nathan to begin to pace the area between the two banks of chairs. My legs felt restless and my stomach was tied in knots with cramps. All the stress was starting to affect my body; I needed to burn it off sohow.
"Are you alright?" Tyler asked, worry coloring his tone.
"I’m fine. Anxious. My stomach is a little twisted. I think it’s just the stress."
Tyler and Nathan exchanged a look which made snort. I eyed Lindy to see if she would take my side against the n only to find her face also contorted with concern. What did she know? She was so sheltered she had probably never been allowed to be alone with a pregnant woman!
"I’m fine! All I have to worry about is a little cramping. I assure you if I need to deal with so cramps, I can deal with them."
Nathan stood up to co to my side, his hand held out cautiously as if he was concerned I’d take a bite out of him. He gestured down and I looked at the floor without seeing any reason for him to worry. What was he trying to say?
"What, Nathan? What?"
"You’re---you’re bleeding, I think. Can you please co sit down? I’ll go get soone to help."
I looked down in fear, shock sending swaying on my feet as I realized there were several red drops of blood leading away from the chair I’d occupied.
"What’s happening? Tyler? Why am I bleeding? It’s not coming from---did I cut my leg? I cut my leg. I did, right?"
My legs ached suddenly, my knees weakened and I couldn’t hold myself up. I was falling to the floor in a crumpled heap of limbs and clothes which didn’t make any sense to anymore.
I couldn’t be bleeding with my monthly flow because I was carrying our daughter. She was too little to survive birth. It wasn’t ti for to let go of her or even to think about letting her go.
All the thoughts in my head about my mother, Patrick, Ethan, all of them were pushed out as I tried to hold my daughter in.
Nathan left at a jog while Tyler and Lindy fell to the floor at my sides. Lindy stroked my hair away from my face, held my wrist with a cool hand which felt so nice I curled down to touch my forehead to it. She was so cool for a wolf. Was there sothing wrong with her too? Or was I burning?
"You’re going to be fine. This is a temporary problem. It could happen to any woman. My mother said she didn’t know she was pregnant with until she was over six months along."
Tyler never talked about his mother.
"It’s going to be bad, isn’t it?" I asked, looking to Lindy for an answer because I knew she was guileless.
Lindy was such a sweet girl. Nathan should love her. She was close enough to in looks for us to be sisters separated at birth; her resemblance to my mother was so uncanny I wondered how she wasn’t related to Elena Campbell sohow.
Was it possible she’d been a distant relative? A cousin or an illegitimate daughter sowhere down the line?
"You’re not going to have anything bad happen," Lindy said, shaking her head ’no, no, no’ as if she could fight off anything negative if she just protested hard enough.
"You don’t know that. You can’t."
"I can," Tyler stated firmly, "I am telling you right now our daughter is too strong to die. We will look back on this and breathe a sigh of relief at how we dodged a silver bullet."
"Silver bullet?"
I laughed because it was funny in a world gone mad. Nothing was going to be funny ever again if my baby died. I was bleeding and my baby might be dying and where was Nathan?
Nathan raced in, dragging a man in scrubs who had a dical bag the size of a suitcase with him, "We’re here with Doctor Waller. He’s got a portable ultrasound. We are just going to have you lie back on the tile and get a little look at our girl."
"Our girl," I repeated, my lips trembling as my teeth started to chatter as soon as I lay back on the cold, cold tile, "Please look at my daughter. Tell she’s okay."
Doctor Waller pushed my clothes up so he could expose my belly. I didn’t care I was laying on the floor of a public room with my panties showing, bare legs sticking out, and a blood trail dotting the way to my groin.
I couldn’t care about anything except my baby.
The portable ultrasound was exactly like the bigger machine only with a smaller wand. As the doctor moved it over my abdon, it felt a lot like a child playing with a toy version of the grown-up equipnt. I was instantly comforted when the sound of my baby’s rapid heartbeat resounded loud and clear on the machine.
"She’s got a great pulse. No problems with her heart rate or rhythm. I can see no abnormalities in her anatomy. There’s no damage to the placenta---but it does look as if you might be leaking so amniotic fluid."
"What does that an?"
Tyler sounded as if he was about to tear the doctor’s throat out. I reached a hand over to him, gripped his arm with numb fingers while rubbing my thumb along the tendons and veins which outlined the strength held in his body.
"He’s checking. He’s going to tell us. She’s fine though. Everything is going to be fine?"
I didn’t intend my statent to be a question.
Our daughter couldn’t afford to question her survival skills.
The doctor put his equipnt away before helping sit up. His hand was a solid weight on my back as he rubbed between my shoulder blades with more pressure than either of the Alphas in my life would have used.
I was grateful for the firm touch. He made feel strong. Capable.
"Your daughter is a survivor. Just like her mother. All you need to do is recognize you’re not invulnerable. You need to take it easy for her sake. Bedrest. Do you understand? You’re going to have to get into the bed, prop your feet up, and let these friends and family mbers take care of you for the rest of this pregnancy."
The thought of being confined to a bed for months made want to start screaming without stopping, but I knew I would do it -I would do anything for my baby.
"How much bedrest? What can she do?"
Nathan followed up Tyler’s question with his own, "Will she need to be on it for the whole term? Is there a possibility she might heal? Get better?"
The doctor shook his head, shrugged a shoulder, responded as best he could which wasn’t nearly good enough as he said, "I wish I could give you an exact answer, but I can’t. She’s going to need to consult with her high-risk OB/GYN who will be able to do a more thorough exam in the office. They’ll outline the next tristers for you. If I were to be asked my professional opinion based on my personal experience in the field of obstetrics, I would say she’s looking at finishing her term from the bed. Getting up for the bathroom. A shower. Possibly to do so low impact exercise such as strolling or walking at a sedate pace. Nothing strenuous at all."
Everything he was suggesting kept sounding worse and worse.
"What about my music?"
"What kind of music?"
"I’m a singer and a songwriter. Would I be able to sing? Compose?"
"I don’t see why not."
Music would sustain . If I had my music, I would be able to endure anything.
Relaxing against Tyler, I murmured, "I think I’d like to see the doctor then go ho now. Can we do that? I need to get off the floor."
I needed to get away from the surgical suite doors is what I needed to do because the longer I stared at them, the more I thought I was going to have a panic attack because my baby would be taken from by nature or a surgical knife.
"We’ll go see the doctor right now and then I’ll take you ho. Lewis, can you stay here? Wait on Windsor?"
Nathan agreed as Tyler lifted and I turned all my thoughts inward to the child I couldn’t bear to lose because I loved her with all my heart and soul already.
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